Mastodon - Marrow Deep (LOMA VISTA)

Barbians Blood; Poisonous Weapons; Your Ghost Again; Snakes For Dinner; Out Like A Lamb; In The Ruins; They’re Coming For You; Golden Spires; Moth And Bone; A Vampire’s Demeanour; The Vanishing; The Three Fates

(LOMA VISTA)

Mastodon has always had a knack for turning pain into something thunderous, but Marrow Deep feels different. This is an album born from grief, upheaval and profound change, yet rather than collapsing under that weight, the Atlanta metal giants use it as fuel.

Their first album without founding guitarist Brent Hinds inevitably carries a sense of absence. Hinds’ wild, unpredictable guitar playing was woven deeply into Mastodon’s identity, and his death in 2025 casts a long shadow over the record. Yet Marrow Deep isn't simply an exercise in mourning. It sounds remarkably like a band rediscovering its appetite.

From the opening assault of Barbarians Blood’ the guitars have a familiar muscularity, while Brann Dailor attacks the drums with the restless energy that made Mastodon such an extraordinary force in the first place. Poisonous Weapons is another heavyweight, its huge riffs and bruising vocals providing a reminder that, beneath all the progressive experimentation, Mastodon can still hit like a sledgehammer.

There is plenty of ambition elsewhere. New guitarist Nick Johnston doesn't attempt to impersonate Hinds, instead bringing his own technical vocabulary to the band, while keyboardist João Nogueira adds another dimension to the arrangements. The result is a Mastodon that sounds refreshed rather than reconstructed

The guest appearances are equally inspired. Josh Homme adds his unmistakable swagger to Snakes for Dinner, Neil Fallon appears on The Three Fates, and Geezer Butler contributes bass to The Vanishing — a particularly poignant moment given the song's connection to Dailor's late mother.

Not everything lands with quite the same force. Some of the slower passages occasionally feel overextended, and there are moments when the band seem to wander rather than attack. But even those imperfections make the album feel human. This isn't Mastodon attempting to recreate the past; it's a band figuring out what comes next.

Ultimately, Marrow Deep is remarkable because it refuses to be defeated by its circumstances. There is sadness running through every groove, but there is also defiance, energy and a genuine sense of renewal. Mastodon may never sound exactly the same again — and perhaps they shouldn't.

For a band facing one of the darkest chapters of its career, they've produced something unexpectedly powerful: an album about loss that sounds, above all else, alive.