Whoever came up with the idea that adult audiences need to be sheltered? Why are record labels, in particular, worried that they’ll scare listeners away or influence them to do some terrible crime that was never in their minds to begin with?
If that’s the path that we’re determined to go down we’d better start burning records in the middle of the twon square like the Nazis did and force Spotify to take those releases off their roster. Audiences need to be educated and challenged, not coddled.
And, frankly, if they know what’s good for them, audiences need a few good shocks once in a while. Keeps the heart beating regularly. They need nightmare soundtracks like the ones envisioned by Post Death Soundtrack.
While all the rockstars and would-be pop stars are busy dreaming of a place in the Sun, Stephen Moore takes in the harsh climate and puts the terrible weather to good use.
“In All My Nightmares I Am Alone” sounds like what happens when you give a recluse who has no desire to go out and make friends a colossal dose of acid by mistake. The sounds and images blend together to create something wholly monstrous, and entirely impossible to explain or predict.
Take the opening piece, “Tremens,” which may suggest that a different type of chemical altogether inspired these visions. The sounds aren’t so much designed to tickle the ears as to push against the body, to create an overwhelming musical sensation.
Is this heavy metal? Thankfully, in 2025, this very much fits into that area of the under-siege record stores. Post Death Soundtrack uses heaviness as a tool to paint demons, not as a way to get onto the big metal festival bills.
“Good Time Slow Jam (In All My Nightmares I Am Alone)” feels like the fantasy of someone who organises the party of their dreams, but who can never once join in on the activities.
“A Monolith of Alarms” is inspired equally by 80s synth pop and by industrial. Moore cleverly balances echo-soaked vocals until it feels like they’re ringing off factory walls themselves.
And, “Fast Approaching Radiant Light” with its production tricks that recall 90s cut-and-paste alternative rock artists is driven forward by a vocal tone that might remind listeners of Ian Gillan, albeit in a context far different from either Jesus Chris Superstar or Deep Purple.
Where does this leave us? Protecting the old records and books, and encouraging people to take a walk on the wild side from time to time. Moore’s cover of The Velvet Underground’s “Venus in Furs” might be the best representation of this sexy but menacing sound that his imagination has concocted; wherever this leads matters little. It’s too late to stop now!
