Review Summary: a sweaty gym bag with nothing of value inside
Thrown’s entire existence feels like it’s been algorithmically generated for two words: gym playlists. Just look at any “metal gym” or “extreme workout” playlist on spotify for proof. Millions of angry guys across the globe smashed a new bench PR when Thrown released their first single back in 2021, and the pure cosmic energy generated by so many gargantuan lifts turned Thrown into one of the fastest rising bands in the heavy music scene, garnering even more monthly listeners than some bands with six LP’s under their belt. And hell, what can I say? It is pretty angry and energetic music. I’d probably work out to it too, but is that all it’s good for?
Excessive Guilt makes it’s context crystal clear from the jump. This album is all about feeling bad about yourself and then getting angry about it and lashing out, like some kind of baby that just became fully conscious of it’s own feelings. When it’s not about self-loathing and general hatred, it appears to be about being a jacked machismo stud and beefing with people. Riveting stuff. I could pick almost any lyric from the album to prove my point, but I’ll leave you with a line from the second track “backfire” -
“What made you so obsessed with me? Bitch. I am living inside your head”. Alright then.
I know I’m being negative (perhaps the album’s attitude is rubbing off on me), but I do actually like some of what is going on here. Their blend of beatdown metalcore and spooky southern rap beats is a pretty fun take on the nu-metal formula if you don’t think too hard about it, and the production does a great job at making every riff feel like a dumbbell just got dropped on your chest. It’s certainly effective at getting oneself “amped up”, or “hyped” or whatever, but I find the delivery and content of the lyrics constantly gets in the way of enjoying the barrage. Marcus Lundqvist has some pipes, and his vocals fit the aggressive nu-metal vibe perfectly, but it often feels like cramming words into bars took priority over like… thinking of something thoughtful to say. I typically wouldn’t be so bothered by this, but it’s just so in-your-face that it’s hard to ignore. Fourth track “bitter friend” proceeds to spout more high school tuff guy lyrics over a bed of hi hats, 808 bass and spooky synths (
“I don’t owе any apologies. Nah, I’m just being real, I don’t carе how you feel. Keep saying that you’re sorry, I’m not listening”) before diving back into another monotonous chug fest. The remaining seven tracks don’t get much better, and they seem to be written for the sole purpose of letting everyone around you know how much of a dangerous, misunderstood bad boy you are. Ahh, I’m still being negative. This album’s obsession with anger and self-aggrandizing smack talk must be infectious after all. The problem is, it’s just not that compelling, and it’s hard to take seriously when even Lundqvist says himself;
“I ain’t calling for help, just let me ***ing complain”.
Excessive Guilt is only 20 minutes long, it’s catchy, it’s decently fun, it’s pumped full of adrenaline and could possibly be classified as a performance enhancing drug by the FDA. There are many reasons why I could recommend this album to someone, but it’s also consumed by a singularity that makes it hard to resonate with outside of the context it was intended for. Take this baby out for a quick 5k run, or down to the muscle farm for chest day, let your opps and inner demons fuel your output, and you’ll have a great time. Just don’t look for anything deeper.
