
Stargazer Scholar
Believe it or not, I became a Rivers Of Nihil fan before Owls. Yes, yours truly is a Monarchy convert. The American Extreme Progressive Metal act started out in the atmospheric Tech-Death realm, yet the subsequent inclusion of saxophones and clean vocals made their third album, Where Owls Know My Name, blow up. And well-deserved. But my own relationship with the band began a few years prior, when I was taken aback by the sultry density of the sophomore. The musicians themselves may have gone on record lamenting the underwhelming reception of their second opus, but its importance for the band’s discovery of its own identity is hard to overlook. The Owls I have already referred to, and 2021’s The Work brought along further exploration, as the Rivers flowed into even more experimental waters. I hope you’re feeling as hyped for the 2025 self-titled album as me then, as you never really know what to expect with this talented bunch. Where to now? Was the band able to get over the departure of the lead vocalist? Will we get our sax again? Ah, so many questions.
My initial misgivings were put to rest as soon as “The Suborbital Blues” started blasting from the speakers: the bassist and lyricist Adam Biggs and guitarist Andy Thomas take over the vocal duties with great success. The playful melody propelled by infectious groove and quirky clean harmonies that somehow reminded me of Between The Buried And Me introduces yet another new facet to the ever-changing nature of Rivers, and the record flows on.
What ensues is a masterclass in combining familiarity with freshness. Once again, the underlying groove is steady and measured, as if the band challenged themselves to do a Metal equivalent of a Steve Reich composition where diversity lies in nuance and development, rather than the foundation. This is where the drummer Jared Klein truly shines, as his imaginative fills and various techniques take us on a hyperdrive-free journey from blast beats to shuffle. Some of the songs tend to exhibit a dissonant tension that would then resolve into harmony in a clever interplay between darkness and shade. And yes, before you ask, the saxophone is there, from the gentle humming of the background to the captivatingly pensive limelight of soloing. Smooth!

One thing has changed, however, and it directly involves the songwriting. You see, it feels as if the band took an element from each of its previous LPs and decided to put it through a filter of Rock and Roll tradition. Rivers Of Nihil is a comparatively vocal-heavy album, and it is a very song-oriented album. Purely instrumental sections are mainly reduced to sax and guitar solos, and the sprawling soundscape moments of yore are few, if memorable. It doesn’t mean that the arrangements aren’t exciting or that there’s nothing to discover on attentive revisits: there’s a lot more behind the chugging riffs, as the sonic texture is exceptionally rich and varied. However, the album quickly settles into the prevailing formula of the “growled verse/clean chorus” dichotomy that never quite overstays its welcome, yet simultaneously fails to deliver a sustained impact.
From the spring morning of the debut, to the summer noon of the sophomore and through the autumn twilight and winter night of the band’s masterpieces, we arrive here, in the human world, at the superposition of everything that came before. No matter what your favorite Rivers Of Nihil era is, you’ll be sure to find its traces on the self-titled. It’s a more streamlined version of the band that could use a bit more experimentation and daring, but even this incarnation of Rivers is still in a league of its own, strong and unchallenged.
Label: Metal Blade Records
Release date: 30 May 2025
Website: https://www.riversofnihil.com/
Country: USA
Score: 4.0/5.0 (Where Working Owls Know Your Monarchy)
