Review by Sam on May 13, 2026.

I remember reading an interview with Peter Steele around the time 'Life Is Killing Me' came out. When asked to describe the sound of his band’s latest effort, Pete said, “It’s like Pink Floyd meets Black Sabbath. I call it Stink Floyd.” Ever equipped with witty one-liners, Petrus Thomas Ratajczyk slayed journalists with his sardonic sense of humor throughout his three-decade career as bassist and frontman for Fallout, Carnivore, and Type O Negative. And indeed, Type O’s penchant for The Floyd is apparent even in the opening moments of Dead Again’s first and title track as it plays similarly to 'In The Flesh'?, though considerably heavied up.

Do you like d-beats? Do you like dirgy, depressive doom? Do you like gang vocals? Do you like to have a good time, all the time? If the answer is yes to any or all of those queries, Dead Again is the Type O Negative album for you. Life Is Killing Me is generally considered a wild card for listeners new to the succinctly nicknamed Drab Four, and World Coming Down is thought to be for fans only. So the Bensonhoist Lesbian Choir bounced back glowingly from those two previous outings. (I, for one, as a lifelong fan, am of the opinion that they never released an album that did not kick ass.) Dead Again is permeated with such exuberance and immediacy that, although it’s Type O’s final recording, I would deem it a perfectly suitable starting point if you are not already familiar with Peter, Johnny, Kenny, and Josh.

The record’s first two offerings, which are the title track followed by the awesome Tripping a Blind Man, are both epic in nature, with some of the most punishing doom they had ever recorded. If doom’s not your thing, fear not, because the bulk of these two pieces dwell in the land of d-beat debauchery. As the title song races to a close, Peter’s call and response of “I can’t believe I died last night!” with the band’s retort of “whoa whoa wh-whoa whoa WHOOOAAA” never fails to put a smile on my face. They were all in their mid-forties at the time this was recorded, but I’ll wager they were having a lot more fun than they were during the sessions for certified gold record Bloody Kisses. If ever there was a mode of expression for conveying feelings of mirth and revelry, it’s the Discharge beat, which is in no short supply across Dead Again’s first couple of songs. Not only that, but the prominence of the d-beat here reaffirms the faith in the crossover days of Carnivore.

The Profit of Doom. This menacing, hulking, megalithic work of sheer genius may be the best thing the Four Dicks from Brooklyn ever did. If you like the opening salvo of Black Sabbath’s Into the Void, imagine that riff folded over itself on a combination of xanax and acid with the gain turned all the way up and the guitar tuning tuned all the way down. Kenny masterfully walks up the fretboard from the open low note all the way to the high E string with a riff that conjures not only the great Iommi but also the eldritch gods of Lovecraft and his Weird Tales. Peter’s lamentation of “Goodbye cruel world!” and the bands’ synchronized chanting of “oooh” and “ahhh” on two and four contribute to the otherworldliness of this gargantuan brute. If you manage to survive the utter devastation of these first couple of minutes, look out, because here comes the stone called Apophis, which brings apocalypse. April two oh two nine. The Final Time. The Profit of Doom was the album’s first single, clocking in at 10:48. I’ve never heard the radio edit, and I don’t want to because I don’t like to hear perfection ruined.

The second single is September Sun and it has a run time of just one minute less than The Prophet. I pray to satan that there is no radio edit version of this track because it also deserves masterpiece status. Type O really knew how to hit you in the feels with their lyrical brilliance, and September Sun is beyond just a poignant reminder of this fact. “A lost man in time, was his name Peter?” screams Kenny in his signature wailing vocal style. The riffing technique of this piece, along with Tripping a Blind Man, is some of Kenny’s finest work. Both songs utilize a low root note, which is then complemented by a laser beam sustained higher note on two.

Halloween in Heaven continues the glee as a feel-good ode to rock ' n ' roll luminaries who died young, only to inspire future generations. It includes vocal accompaniment by one Tara von Flowers, and you can tell by her voice that she’s smokin' hot. After this brief dalliance in nostalgia, the tone gets quite serious with These Three Things. The dismal, despondent opening sequence, which is revisited about midway, will crush your fucking balls. Was Peter catholic? Was he a born-again Christian? Did he spend his life mostly as a doomed droog addict, who briefly got sober during the conception of this work? Did he maybe finance an abortion in his younger days, and write this song as a cry for forgiveness? I just don’t know, but the subject matter of These Three Things has been the cause for much consternation among Type O’s loyal fan base. Consider:

At the end, I'll escort you to hell
The dark one's forces
Lock your flaming cell
To murder the once unborn
The worst sin you've ever performed

We may never know just what soap box Mr. Steele was standing on for this one, but the music is so good, I don’t think it matters. The riff that corresponds with the lyric “Of a land that shuns the sun” is so powerfully driving that it is transcendent, rendering things like space and time down to mere figments of our collective unconscious. I am the dual of the fisherman Simon. Dude, what??

I am now going to combine the record’s final few tracks, hopefully into one paragraph, because I don’t want to be guilty of the cardinal sin of reviewing something sequentially. Some Stupid Tomorrow is the most memorable of the bunch with its thrashing rage. I O I! In on it! Never forget. An Ode to Locksmiths is an acknowledgment of the raw deal given to women ever since that business between Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Closing piece, Hail and Farewell to Britain, could be about anything, but it seems to deal in some sort of disillusionment with the English. Perhaps the guys had an encounter with one of their heroes from the UK that left a bad taste in their mouths. I will say this: the stunning riff that accompanies the lyric “I can’t believe how cruel life is” is one of the heaviest moments to be had throughout the one hour and seventeen minutes of Dead Again. Type O Negative leaves us with the maniacal hollering of Peter over the din of battle, airplanes and tanks crashing amid machine gun fire, and it’s fucking overwhelming. In just three short years after unveiling this towering work of art, Peter Steele - The Green Man, The Thermonuclear Warrior, The Prophet of Doom - would be dead at the age of forty-eight.

Rating: 9 out of 10

Review by Tomek on April 12, 2007.

Introduction really isn't needed here since Type O Negative is a band that everybody knows, heard their music or their name, and either loves what they do or hates their guts. "Dead Again" is their seventh record and here are some of my thoughts about it.

Musically, album-as a whole - is a pure and unquestioned proof that Type O Negative is a solid band and not just a few excellent musicians playing together. In every single song on the album, there is a place for someone to shine, no one is omitted or moved to the back. Every song sounds different, all are packed with excellent riffs, original and interesting bass lines, dark and monumental synths, remarkable drumming, and what I believe to be the best vocal performance from Steele so far. Despair and complexity, heaviness and melody, love and hate, ugliness and beauty - together become a powerful combination. Whole album is full of revived energy and you can hear all the best musical ideas known from previous albums which Type O Negative has been working from the beginning. All these elements make recommending any song in particular extremely hard because all of them are outstanding in their own way.
Production and mixing are both stellar, as you can expect from giants of American doom/goth Metal. The one and only thing I find unsatisfying is the fact that all of the things mentioned before are something that we've come to expect and recognize Type O Negative by. All previous albums had those elements, and there is not one new thing that could surprise a fan of band.

"Dead Again" is a good album, but I could use some fresh ideas from those guys. I was hoping for something more, but I guess the good ol' Type-O will have to suffice.

Categorical Rating Breakdown

Musicianship: 9
Atmosphere: 7
Production: 8
Originality: 7
Overall: 7

Rating: 7.6 out of 10

Review by Sam on May 13, 2026.

I remember reading an interview with Peter Steele around the time 'Life Is Killing Me' came out. When asked to describe the sound of his band’s latest effort, Pete said, “It’s like Pink Floyd meets Black Sabbath. I call it Stink Floyd.” Ever equipped with witty one-liners, Petrus Thomas Ratajczyk slayed journalists with his sardonic sense of humor throughout his three-decade career as bassist and frontman for Fallout, Carnivore, and Type O Negative. And indeed, Type O’s penchant for The Floyd is apparent even in the opening moments of Dead Again’s first and title track as it plays similarly to 'In The Flesh'?, though considerably heavied up.

Do you like d-beats? Do you like dirgy, depressive doom? Do you like gang vocals? Do you like to have a good time, all the time? If the answer is yes to any or all of those queries, Dead Again is the Type O Negative album for you. Life Is Killing Me is generally considered a wild card for listeners new to the succinctly nicknamed Drab Four, and World Coming Down is thought to be for fans only. So the Bensonhoist Lesbian Choir bounced back glowingly from those two previous outings. (I, for one, as a lifelong fan, am of the opinion that they never released an album that did not kick ass.) Dead Again is permeated with such exuberance and immediacy that, although it’s Type O’s final recording, I would deem it a perfectly suitable starting point if you are not already familiar with Peter, Johnny, Kenny, and Josh.

The record’s first two offerings, which are the title track followed by the awesome Tripping a Blind Man, are both epic in nature, with some of the most punishing doom they had ever recorded. If doom’s not your thing, fear not, because the bulk of these two pieces dwell in the land of d-beat debauchery. As the title song races to a close, Peter’s call and response of “I can’t believe I died last night!” with the band’s retort of “whoa whoa wh-whoa whoa WHOOOAAA” never fails to put a smile on my face. They were all in their mid-forties at the time this was recorded, but I’ll wager they were having a lot more fun than they were during the sessions for certified gold record Bloody Kisses. If ever there was a mode of expression for conveying feelings of mirth and revelry, it’s the Discharge beat, which is in no short supply across Dead Again’s first couple of songs. Not only that, but the prominence of the d-beat here reaffirms the faith in the crossover days of Carnivore.

The Profit of Doom. This menacing, hulking, megalithic work of sheer genius may be the best thing the Four Dicks from Brooklyn ever did. If you like the opening salvo of Black Sabbath’s Into the Void, imagine that riff folded over itself on a combination of xanax and acid with the gain turned all the way up and the guitar tuning tuned all the way down. Kenny masterfully walks up the fretboard from the open low note all the way to the high E string with a riff that conjures not only the great Iommi but also the eldritch gods of Lovecraft and his Weird Tales. Peter’s lamentation of “Goodbye cruel world!” and the bands’ synchronized chanting of “oooh” and “ahhh” on two and four contribute to the otherworldliness of this gargantuan brute. If you manage to survive the utter devastation of these first couple of minutes, look out, because here comes the stone called Apophis, which brings apocalypse. April two oh two nine. The Final Time. The Profit of Doom was the album’s first single, clocking in at 10:48. I’ve never heard the radio edit, and I don’t want to because I don’t like to hear perfection ruined.

The second single is September Sun and it has a run time of just one minute less than The Prophet. I pray to satan that there is no radio edit version of this track because it also deserves masterpiece status. Type O really knew how to hit you in the feels with their lyrical brilliance, and September Sun is beyond just a poignant reminder of this fact. “A lost man in time, was his name Peter?” screams Kenny in his signature wailing vocal style. The riffing technique of this piece, along with Tripping a Blind Man, is some of Kenny’s finest work. Both songs utilize a low root note, which is then complemented by a laser beam sustained higher note on two.

Halloween in Heaven continues the glee as a feel-good ode to rock ' n ' roll luminaries who died young, only to inspire future generations. It includes vocal accompaniment by one Tara von Flowers, and you can tell by her voice that she’s smokin' hot. After this brief dalliance in nostalgia, the tone gets quite serious with These Three Things. The dismal, despondent opening sequence, which is revisited about midway, will crush your fucking balls. Was Peter catholic? Was he a born-again Christian? Did he spend his life mostly as a doomed droog addict, who briefly got sober during the conception of this work? Did he maybe finance an abortion in his younger days, and write this song as a cry for forgiveness? I just don’t know, but the subject matter of These Three Things has been the cause for much consternation among Type O’s loyal fan base. Consider:

At the end, I'll escort you to hell
The dark one's forces
Lock your flaming cell
To murder the once unborn
The worst sin you've ever performed

We may never know just what soap box Mr. Steele was standing on for this one, but the music is so good, I don’t think it matters. The riff that corresponds with the lyric “Of a land that shuns the sun” is so powerfully driving that it is transcendent, rendering things like space and time down to mere figments of our collective unconscious. I am the dual of the fisherman Simon. Dude, what??

I am now going to combine the record’s final few tracks, hopefully into one paragraph, because I don’t want to be guilty of the cardinal sin of reviewing something sequentially. Some Stupid Tomorrow is the most memorable of the bunch with its thrashing rage. I O I! In on it! Never forget. An Ode to Locksmiths is an acknowledgment of the raw deal given to women ever since that business between Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Closing piece, Hail and Farewell to Britain, could be about anything, but it seems to deal in some sort of disillusionment with the English. Perhaps the guys had an encounter with one of their heroes from the UK that left a bad taste in their mouths. I will say this: the stunning riff that accompanies the lyric “I can’t believe how cruel life is” is one of the heaviest moments to be had throughout the one hour and seventeen minutes of Dead Again. Type O Negative leaves us with the maniacal hollering of Peter over the din of battle, airplanes and tanks crashing amid machine gun fire, and it’s fucking overwhelming. In just three short years after unveiling this towering work of art, Peter Steele - The Green Man, The Thermonuclear Warrior, The Prophet of Doom - would be dead at the age of forty-eight.

Rating: 9 out of 10

Review by Tomek on April 12, 2007.

Introduction really isn't needed here since Type O Negative is a band that everybody knows, heard their music or their name, and either loves what they do or hates their guts. "Dead Again" is their seventh record and here are some of my thoughts about it.

Musically, album-as a whole - is a pure and unquestioned proof that Type O Negative is a solid band and not just a few excellent musicians playing together. In every single song on the album, there is a place for someone to shine, no one is omitted or moved to the back. Every song sounds different, all are packed with excellent riffs, original and interesting bass lines, dark and monumental synths, remarkable drumming, and what I believe to be the best vocal performance from Steele so far. Despair and complexity, heaviness and melody, love and hate, ugliness and beauty - together become a powerful combination. Whole album is full of revived energy and you can hear all the best musical ideas known from previous albums which Type O Negative has been working from the beginning. All these elements make recommending any song in particular extremely hard because all of them are outstanding in their own way.
Production and mixing are both stellar, as you can expect from giants of American doom/goth Metal. The one and only thing I find unsatisfying is the fact that all of the things mentioned before are something that we've come to expect and recognize Type O Negative by. All previous albums had those elements, and there is not one new thing that could surprise a fan of band.

"Dead Again" is a good album, but I could use some fresh ideas from those guys. I was hoping for something more, but I guess the good ol' Type-O will have to suffice.

Categorical Rating Breakdown

Musicianship: 9
Atmosphere: 7
Production: 8
Originality: 7
Overall: 7

Rating: 7.6 out of 10

Review by Sam on January 30, 2026.

First of all, I have to shout out the absolutely brilliant cover artworks chosen by this band. The simple black and white on the front of this EP, entitled Reeking Gunk Of Abhorrence, depicting a moldy, cobweb-enshrouded, chopped-in-half corpse superlatively representing the analog, old school death metal contained herein. The logo is also pretty sweet, done in that indecipherable pencil-drawn style that slowly becomes legible the longer you stare at it. The cover sketch of the first EP strong>Verminosis was also nicely done, with the logo on that one a direct nod to Entombed, one of Cryptworm’s myriad influences.

As for the music, the first thing that grabs my attention is the voice of Tibor Hanyi. It appears to have descended a couple of octaves to certifiable Antti Boman levels compared to the debut, so this is a welcome change. Drummer Joe Knight still isn’t playing any double bass, and I’m still not complaining. He will, however, deliver some slow blast beats as well as some speedier Mick Harris stylings. The analogous production values remain intact, offering a warm yet decayed overall sound and vibe that is 100% listenable.

Although album opener 'Festering Maggot Infestation' is a serviceable demonstration of OSDM chops and songwriting, it wasn’t until the 4:20 mark of the title track that I said, “Uh oh, here comes, this gonna be trouble,” a la legendary blues man Mashed Potato Johnson. The abyssal yawp of Tibor over the ever spiraling low string symphony confirms that the ideology of Cryptworm continues to evolve. 'Self-Dismemberment' (fucking killer song title!) is propelled by one-footed blasts, Slayer beats, and tornadic riffage that would be sure to put a smile on the face of Chris Reifert. The riff to end all riffs, however, can be found in the introductory moments of EP closer 'Cesspool Of Perpetual Decay'. A ringing palm muted open note augmented with some beefy floor toms morbidly festers into an evilly tremolo sequence, and it just flat out rules. This damnable duo then rocks your face for five minutes with a torrential downpour of desolation that led me to reach directly for the repeat button. No solos. None needed.

All I can say about these dudes is wow. I had kind of given up on contemporary death metal acts, but Cryptworm is a time machine that’ll beam you instantaneously back to 1989, no questions asked. The fact that this band exists and even has an album coming out this year gives me hope not only for the death metal genre, but for humanity itself. 

Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Review by Alex on May 20, 2020.

Cryptworm like the name would imply, has taken some time to get where they're are now as a band, though foreseeable it may be the time and effort sacrificed to arrive at this junction, the slug is here, nonetheless. Due out on Me Saco Un Ojo, is the band's latest EP that stomps through slushy swamps of sickness, Reeking Gunk of Abhorrence. If you're new to bands like Hyperdontia, Cerebral Rot, Undergang and even Ulcerot, then you have much catching up to do, because here in the death metal underbelly, things move rather fast, making it easy to get left behind.

It’s the mud they like, and often attributed to mud are its sluggish and dirty properties, which you will find to be the sonic recurrence on Reeking Gunk of Abhorrence. Offering a short yet satiating collection of 4 messy meals, Cryptworm stir-up a nasty sapropel of deep gutturals, sloppy drumming as if the sticks were covered in slime; and a drunken regurgitated goo of guitar riffs. Appearing to be within the puss-filled parameters of Hyperdontia and Undergang, opening track 'Festering Maggot Infestation' arrives with a most diabolical canker of deformation, ripe with a nauseating stench of old school death metal, Cryptworm vouch the helminth is very much alive, active and even more hazardous to any living organism than before.

Title-track 'Reeking Gunk of Abhorrence' maintains the catchy yet filthy contour that prevailed over their debut EP Verminosis and here it's no different, though I would say the production appears slightly more definitive to unearth and sustain the material's effect. Some sections of the music such as on 'Festering Maggot Infestation' and 'Cesspool of Perpetual Decay' have a head-bashing, fist-pumping, waist-swinging, up roaring type of groove to it that keeps the music moving, so you know its 20-minute run feels even shorter. If you love the deep, stomachy vocals like what you'd hear on a Demilich or Undergang, then Reeking Gunk of Putrefaction has you covered in venomous disgorge; get swallowed!

Since sprouting from an infected sore somewhere in the United Kingdom, Cryptworm's sound and aesthetic without doubt was that region's answer to the American underground of death metal. What other sphacelated things the band holds are yet to be revealed.

Rating: 8.2 out of 10