Some bands sound like they’ve got something to sell. GREY CZAR sound like they’ve got something to get off their chest before the walls come down. Euarthropodia, their newest full-length out of the Austrian underground, is the kind of record that doesn’t beg you to listen. It just starts, and if you’re not ready for it, tough luck – you’re already knee-deep in it.
Recorded in their own rehearsal space, self-mixed, self-birthed, and full of strange, sludgy life, Euarthropodia sounds like the inside of an old machine learning to breathe again. It’s raw but not sloppy, heavy without cartoon muscle-flexing, and smart as hell without trying to show off. The thing moves, but not in straight lines. It lurches, it spirals, it drags its limbs before suddenly taking flight. There’s a concept in here – something about human collapse and bugs reclaiming the ruins – but honestly, the record says more through its tone than its text. It feels like decay. It feels like rebirth. It feels like something that used to be alive trying to remember how to live again.
The guitars (there are two, and they don’t just riff – they argue) carve out this strange middle ground between early-‘00s post-metal, late-‘90s European doom-psych, and a certain haunted strain of prog / art rock – but with this cracked melodic edge that sneaks up on you. The bass and drums hold it all together like rusted scaffolding in an earthquake – barely, but somehow still standing. The keys are pure mood, creeping in and out like fumes in a sealed room. And the vocals – sometimes shouted, sometimes half-spoken, sometimes just there like a bad memory you can’t shake – are exactly what they need to be: human, flawed, real.
GREY CZAR aren’t trying to get to the chorus. Hell, sometimes they’re not trying to get anywhere. They’re fine to sit in the murk for a while, let a riff rot, let a groove bleed out. It’s uncomfortable. It’s hypnotic. It’s honest. In an era where everything’s clipped and compressed and designed to grab you in the first ten seconds, Euarthropodia is an album that says, you want something real? Sit the fuck down and give me an hour.
The cover for Euarthropodia is a fever dream of decay and rebirth, perfectly mirroring the album’s themes. Mutated insect-creatures swarm over a fallen figure, the whole scene drenched in toxic greens and rusted oranges. The dense, almost suffocating linework pulls you into a world that feels on the brink of collapse, much like the music itself – chaotic, yet purposeful.
And when it finally lets you go, it doesn’t feel like the end. It feels like the start of something you don’t fully understand yet. That’s the magic of this record – it haunts, but it doesn’t preach. It suggests. It gestures. It points you toward the void and leaves you to walk it.
GREY CZAR aren’t here to play nice. They’ve built their own world, brick by broken brick, and Euarthropodia is the key to the front gate. It’s not always pretty. It’s not meant to be. But it’s theirs – and now it’s yours, if you’re willing to crawl in and stay awhile.
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Released by Octopus Rising on April 11, 2025
Music source for review – Grand Sounds PR
