Label: Deathwish Nothing about New Hell is cut and dried. Predictably, a record with the word “hell” in the title made by a band with the word “death” in its name is not quite a beacon of light. It’s gravelly and stormy, with pureed hooks that weave into slinky ones, as if someone encrusted grunge in glitter. It belongs to shoegaze, but with bleakness that overlaps with emo. Thematically and lyrically, there are loose ends and a few macabre quips sprinkled in. This record is gripping and bone-chilling, an effect that’s brought about by a medley of elements marinating together. Still, one particular constant is worth calling attention to – the pricking vocals that provide a modicum of an outline within the ambiguity it’s swaddled in. Even when the distortion of the guitar hits its stride, they lurch forward and zoom right into your ears. New Hell’s dimness makes it apt for ushering in winter. It’s a case study in how beauty can be molded from even the eeriest of things.