After the stark aggression of Hunter Gatherer — an album built on anger — Avatar needed to rediscover their gravitational center. The band had just come out of a decade marked by huge aesthetic leaps: the reinvention of Black Waltz, the theatrical explosion of Hail the Apocalypse, the insane opera of Feathers & Flesh, and the glorious kitsch of Avatar Country. Hunter Gatherer was the moment they decided to tear down the stage, turn off the spotlights, and sit alone with their own fury. Dance Devil Dance, in turn, is the answer — a step forward, not away from that abyss, but toward a new way of controlling it.
If Dance Devil Dance isn’t a full break from the past, it certainly feels like a step ahead. There’s a clearer sense of cohesion than in Hunter Gatherer, with fewer tracks that feel like mere filler and a stronger attention to the album’s flow as a complete experience. The balance between the raw anger that fueled Johannes in recent years and the chaotic-fun side that defined Avatar’s older work finds a healthy meeting point — a record that doesn’t need to choose between fury and spectacle, because it knows exactly how to stitch the two together.
On the production side, the album marks the band’s second consecutive collaboration with Jay Ruston, who once again delivers a technically impeccable result. The production values are excellent — something that has honestly been standard on Avatar records since Black Waltz. Still, the album stumbles where much of almost every heavy metal production stumbles: the bass rarely finds room to truly breathe, often buried in the mix and only sounding full in very specific moments.
Dance Devil Dance is also the moment the band attempts to balance two identities: the theatricality that made them famous and the primal metal instinct that has always existed beneath the makeup. That tension appears right away in the title track: an implacable groove, a pulsating drumbeat, dry riffs, and Johannes Eckerström tearing everything apart. Great song.
Chimp Mosh Pit is pure fun. And in this song we can finally hear Henrik Sandelin’s distorted bass — and what a difference it makes! My only criticism of this track is its short runtime and the ending, which feels abrupt. And as usual… what is that official video? Insane and entertaining as always.
“The Dirt I’m Buried In” is perhaps the most commercial song in the band’s entire catalog — and also a rare (if not unique) case of exclusively clean vocals in Avatar’s discography. Maybe out of pure prejudice on my part toward this more accessible direction, it took me quite a while to truly appreciate it. And if the goal was to reach a broader audience, the plan clearly worked: the track is now the band’s third most-streamed song on Spotify, solidifying its status as an entry point for new listeners.
“Gonna Wanna Riot” is about B-B-B-B-Bobbie and his friend Robbie (sung in a Rob Halford Rapid Fire style) and his million-dollar dreams. And Bobbie is a “canibal,” but Johannes messed up during recording and Robbie says he’s the “cannibal.” Some people on Reddit claims that Robbie and Bobbie are indeed the same person (like Fight Club). Anyway, it’s a mess — but the song is fantastic.
Another great moment is the surprise duet with Lzzy Hale. She’s incredible and I would have loved to see her take over Skid Row’s vocals permanently. Too bad that never happened, because she would have been perfect for the job. Here she delivers a heavy, dragging punch — a strong way to close the album.
Other highlights include “Hazmat Suit” (pure modern Avatar: exaggerated, heavy, and fun at the same time) and “Clouds Dipped in Chrome.” Unfortunately, “Valley of Disease” and “Train” (the most Faith No More–sounding song in their catalog) don’t speak to my heart.
Verdict
Dance Devil Dance is not Avatar at their creative peak (Feathers & Flesh) nor at their sharpest (Hail the Apocalypse). But it’s a very solid record and, in my view, a slightly better album than Hunter Gatherer.
Highlights
• Dance Devil Dance — groove and ferocity in pure form.
• The Dirt I’m Buried In — one of the strongest choruses of the recent era.
• Violence No Matter What (feat. Lzzy Hale) — theatrical, intense, and memorable.
• Gotta Wanna Riot — controlled chaos at its best.
• Chimp Mosh Pit - fun
