Spiritbox - Tsunami Sea

'Tsunami Sea' arrives with the confidence of a band who've graduated from promising newcomers to Alexandra Palace headliners and decided that, actually, playing it safe is for cowards. Where 'Eternal Blue' announced their arrival with a carefully calibrated blend of crushing riffs and celestial melodies, this follow-up feels like Spiritbox throwing open all the windows and doors of their musical mansion at once.

The album's opening salvo makes this abundantly clear. 'Fata Morgana' erupts with thunderous, down-tuned guitars and Courtney LaPlante's acid-bath screams, yet unexpectedly dissolves into pools of tranquillity where her voice turns gossamer-light. On paper, it reads like musical whiplash; in execution, it's as natural as breathing – just significantly more exciting. Follow-up 'Black Rainbow' combines hulking, mechanical riffs with electronic textures and distorted vocal layers that would make industrial icons nod in approval.

What's most striking about 'Tsunami Sea' is how Spiritbox can swing between these polar extremes without losing their identity. 'Perfect Soul' and 'Keep Sweet' deliver the kind of melodic metalcore hooks that first expanded their fanbase – LaPlante's crystalline vocals soaring over muscular instrumentation – before 'Soft Spine' drags you back into the abyss with its ruthless, down-tuned assault. It's like being invited to a tasteful dinner party that suddenly transforms into a fight club, and somehow, both experiences feel equally appropriate.

The album's midsection showcases a band brave enough to dial back the aggression entirely. The title track and 'A Haven with Two Faces' are unexpectedly serene pieces that build atmosphere through clean guitars, electronic textures, and LaPlante's emotive delivery rather than relying on the comforting crunch of distortion. These moments of calm don't feel like filler – they're crucial breathers that make the next surge of heaviness hit with double the impact.

And surge it does. The final act of 'Tsunami Sea' pulls out every stop in Spiritbox's considerable arsenal. 'No Loss, No Love' lurches between glitchy electronic beats, haunting spoken verses, and towering riffs with the confidence of a band who've torn up the metalcore rulebook and fashioned it into origami swans. LaPlante is at her most versatile here, shifting from guttural depths to robotic detachment with unsettling ease.

Even more surprising is 'Crystal Roses', which nearly abandons metal altogether in favour of liquid drum & bass rhythms and shimmering melodies that wouldn't sound out of place on a forward-thinking pop record. It's a left turn that somehow makes perfect sense in context – like running into your intimidating metal friend at a ballet class and discovering they're actually brilliant at it.

The grand payoff arrives with closer 'Ride the Wave', which begins on a pulsating electronic undercurrent before escalating into a towering anthem with one of the band's most satisfying choruses to date. When the inevitable breakdown hits, it lands with the force of a meteor strike; a thrilling climax to an album that grows bolder with each track.

In tackling the dreaded second album challenge, Spiritbox haven't just avoided the sophomore slump – they've leapt over it with the grace of Olympic hurdlers, then turned around to give it a cheeky wave. 'Tsunami Sea' is heavier, weirder, and more expansive than its predecessor without sacrificing the hooks and polish that broadened their appeal in the first place. In a genre often accused of formula-following, Spiritbox have created something genuinely unpredictable, a record that embraces risk and pushes against the tide. The result isn't just an excellent metal album – it's a thrilling reminder that even the heaviest music can still surprise, evolve, and sweep you away in unexpected directions.