The philosophy of Harms Way is the best offense is as much offense as possible. The Chicago band began as a hardcore group with some powerviolence thrown in, but soon juiced it all up with beefcake breakdowns and got ready to brawl. Isolation in 2011 and Blinded in 2013 injected that hardcore with Swedish death metal while never abandoning their roots. With 2015s Rust, they swapped the death metal for more industrial and 90s groove metal influences, essentially creating a hardcore version of Roadrunner Records heyday roster like Fear Factory and Roots-era Sepultura, and they continue on that path on their fourth record, Posthuman.

Theres a beauty to how Harms Way throw around such weight like boulders are pillows. Its difficult to not be in awe of how Human Carrying Capacity and Sink dispatch punches with efficiency and brawn, where asserting might is the same as breathing, effortless and necessary. Vocalist James Pligge is an imposing figure on stagehes a weightlifter who could easily pass for a younger, bulked up John Joseph of the Cro-Magsand he sounds even tougher and more assured here than before. Even if you have a distaste for competition, the bands dedication to pure athleticism really pays off. Become a Machine is a string of pummeling breakdowns, an especially muscular performance from a band who defines swole. Even when theres a lot of reexamining masculinity in hardcore, in music, and across all of culture and politics broadly, there still is value in raw strength.

While still a hardcore record, Posthuman does tip the balance towards Rusts industrial flirtations. Temptation takes Godfleshs rumbling, mechanical bass and sets it to a slinking Jesus Lizard groove, then charts a course that resembles if Deftones went further in on their dream pop influences. Theres a running joke that post-punk is something you get into once you age out of hardcore, ditching your Youth of Today crewneck for an ill-fitting Unknown Pleasures shirt. By Temptations end, though, Harms Way avoid falling into that trap by unleashing a blistering final attack, going harder than ever.

Last Man asks, What if you made Hatebreed into a trip-hop band? which sounds like it shouldnt work, but sandwiches their usual thrashing between hallucinatory dirges. Harms Way still consider themselves a straight-edge band, yet theyve crafted a tune that captures going the feeling of going and out of consciousness. Call My Name has all their natural tough-guy posture, yet it broods like Posthumans more industrial tendencies. There are bouncy riffs that recall some of Rusts nu-metal forays, yet their gravity is brought down by a slight depression. This shows their growth as songwriters by seamlessly merging their two sides, even if the intro is Hollywood Male War Movie ambient until the drums come in.

For all of their positive qualities and evolution, Harms Way still grows in increments. Sure, tracks like Last Man and Temptation, skew expectations, yet they dont feel like super radical departures. Unreality, an undisciplined track with a noisy intro dead on impact, hints at a bigger issue: The final edge of this sound might be closer than they think. Normally, a mere refinement wouldn't be a cause for concern. Code Orange, however, took a similar formula and got a Grammy nomination out of it, and they might open the floodgates for even paler imitators. Harms Way know how to play to their strengths, yet Posthuman may be a sign they might need more of a drastic shakeup.

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Harms Way: Posthuman Album Review | Pitchfork