Some bands emerge from the underground with a sound so heavy, so unrelenting, that it feels less like music and more like a force of nature. IRONRAT’s Beneath It All is one of those records. Rooted in the low-and-slow devastation of doom but laced with the grime and sneer of sludge, this long-awaited second full-length hits with the weight of a collapsing cathedral. A decade-long gap between albums might spell stagnation for some, but here, it only seems to have sharpened the edges.
Recorded at the Foel Studio with Chris Fielding (Conan, Electric Wizard), Beneath It All is a monstrous slab of sonic weight, capturing that elusive balance between suffocating heaviness and raw emotion. There’s no sense of excess or indulgence – every crushing chord, every tortured melody, every moment of grim intensity feels deliberate. This is a band that understands sludge and doom aren’t just about volume or distortion; they’re about feeling heavy, about dragging the listener into the murk and making them stay there.
The guitars lumber and snarl with a sense of purpose, nodding to early Corrosion of Conformity and the rawer side of Mastodon’s Remission-era riffing, but there’s also a deep-seated bluesy grit in there – a whiskey-soaked, rust-coated sensibility that gives everything a rugged, lived-in feel. The bass doesn’t just hold things down; it heaves like tectonic plates shifting beneath your feet, creating an oppressive low-end that never relents. Thunderous and unpredictable drums, sway between cavernous doom stomps and bursts of punk-inflected aggression. There’s an understanding of when to push forward, when to pull back, and how to keep the tension simmering just below the surface.
Martin Wiseman brings something different to the table – gritty but tuneful, delivering lines with the kind of world-weary grit that makes every lyric sound like it’s been dragged through the dirt before being spat out. There are echoes of Alice in Chains in his approach, that haunted, melodic edge creeping through the cracks, giving the music an emotional weight that goes beyond just sounding big. It’s an evolution, a step beyond the pure brute force of their earlier work, adding a layer of nuance that makes Beneath It All hit even harder.
Lyrically, the album carries the weight of its title – this is music that digs deep, unafraid to stare into the abyss but refusing to be swallowed by it. The themes of struggle and resilience are palpable, but there’s no melodrama here, no forced narratives. Instead, it feels like a natural outpouring of years spent grinding through the realities of life, distilled into something crushing, yet necessary. It’s a record that moves like a storm rolling in slow – ominous, inevitable, and impossible to ignore.
The cover art for Beneath It All is interesting too – stark, unvarnished, and heavy with atmosphere. A towering, faceless building dominates the frame, its City of Dreams sign glowing like a half-hearted promise in the night. Below, streaks of red and gold light carve through the streets, giving the sense of a world that never stops moving, even as the weight of it all bears down. It’s a fitting reflection of the album – crushing yet restless, raw but never lifeless. There’s no gloss, no pretension – just the kind of imagery that lingers, much like the slow, dragging force of the music itself.
This is doom-sludge at its most raw and uncompromising, a record that doesn’t beg for attention but demands it through sheer weight and conviction. It’s the sound of a band that has nothing to prove but plenty left to say, and they’re saying it louder and heavier than ever.
Follow IRONRAT on Facebook
Released by Argonauta Records on February 28th, 2025
Music source for review – Grand Sounds PR
