Review Summary: You’re always on my mind, and you always will be
All You Know Is Hell is the solo project and moniker of Brooklyn-based artist Joe Joyce, a project that blurs the line between madness and sanity while challenging rigid ideas about genre, definition, and what many people think music should be.
This is the artist’s second album, following the excellent and unhinged 2019 record Gape. That album’s grim, chaotic tone and cryptic lyrical content were often difficult to decipher. Its relatively short runtime was both a strength and a weakness: while effective, it also made the record feel fragmented—perhaps intentionally—but not as fully fleshed out or realized as it could have been. Addressing these somewhat surface-level criticisms comes Joyce’s 2022 output, A Quiet Conversation While Burning to Death.
Where Gape felt wildly schizophrenic, depressive, and one-sided, A Quiet Conversation feels like the other side of the coin—almost an apology. Upon the album’s release, Joyce stated that it was dedicated to people who reached out for help and received none, those afraid of being alone, those defeated by the world, and everyone he has ever let down—offering reassurance that they are always on his mind and always will be.
With his previous release leaning heavily on its influences, Joyce now succeeds in carving out paths not yet heard, creating a potent, original, and fearless album that confidently stands on its own feet—yet still allows itself room to breathe. Blending ambient, industrial, sludge, electronic, grind, post-hardcore, doom, and black metal, he fuses these styles into a singular form tailored entirely to himself.
The album opens with the confident, reverb-drenched, slow-building ambience of distant piano notes and floaty vocals. From the very first chord struck on the opening track, “Somewhere After the Beginning,” to its finale—where the drums pound like a heartbeat—the song immediately grabs your attention. This sense of engagement is established early and never lets go throughout the record.
In stark contrast, the second track, “From the Depths Of…”, is its polar opposite. It begins with a grind-influenced growl and evolves into an eight-minute post-hardcore behemoth, incorporating choirs and strings—both devilish and heavenly. The track masterfully alternates between quiet passages and hard-hitting screams, chugging riffs, and industrial-esque rhythmic sections.
The following song, “Hardcore,” continues in a similar vein, featuring grimy, sludge-thick chugging riffs that feel as sticky as the filth they seem to crawl out of. Black metal-esque passages blend seamlessly with screamo-infused vocals and riffs, creating sharp yet natural shifts in pace, sound, and atmosphere. Just when it feels relentless, the song dissolves into a quiet wave of ambience, offering a brief moment to breathe.
That ambience transitions perfectly into piano chords that slowly mutate into the manic electronic track “Sunflower Candy.” Functioning as a distorted, schizophrenic industrial ballad, the song begins calmly before spiraling into chaos—noise swelling as distant screams echo before collapsing into static. This moment serves as the album’s perfect mind***, tricking the listener into expecting total annihilation when the static cuts out. Instead, “Royel” emerges as perhaps the most natural and peaceful track on the album—like a clearing in the sky after a violent storm. Yet just as comfort settles in, the stress-inducing static returns, hurling you straight back into the heaviness.
“A/S/L (deux)” is another hardcore-infused track that blends the album’s established formula. As the shortest song here, it serves as a bridge into “The Metal Rod Behind Your Teeth,” the album at its most industrial. This monumental track feels like a towering, rusted structure encrusted in sludge, stretching skyward before disappearing into the clouds. If that song represents the tower’s ascent, “Bridgeport Catholics” feels like its collapse—sending you free-falling through debris as the album veers once again into screamo and post-hardcore territory.
The ninth track, “Thom Yorke,” combines elements from the previous two songs, incorporating subtle grind and black metal drum patterns, chugging riffs, squeals, and growls. Just as it reaches a point where you expect it to implode, everything fades into calming static before the Fugazi-esque post-hardcore riff of “Dragged Into a God-Sized Hole” kicks in—the album’s purest screamo/post-hardcore moment. One thing becomes abundantly clear: All You Know Is Hell is anything but a one-trick pony.
The album concludes with “Somewhere Before the End,” mirroring the opening track in both title and spirit. Drenched in reverberated piano, it slowly builds into a post-rock/post-hardcore hybrid with shouted vocals, stomping beats, and guitars soaked in distortion and reverb. Like every track before it, the song reinforces just how versatile and chameleon-like this project truly is.
This is a daring album—one that never hesitates to take what feels like the logical next step. Yet the way it executes these turns is so natural and effortless that it almost risks being taken for granted. Because nothing feels abrupt or forced, some may overlook just how significant an accomplishment this record is. A Quiet Conversation While Burning to Death is fearless—perhaps even a masterpiece—and an astonishing leap forward from its predecessor to the point of being almost mind-boggling.
If I were to recommend a few tracks, I wouldn’t. Just listen to the whole thing. It has something for almost everyone. And as the mastermind behind this project said while dedicating the album to those he has let down, I’ll borrow the same words to conclude this review and express how this album feels to me:
“You’re always on my mind, and you always will be.”
