Review by Norbert on April 17, 2026.

I've mentioned more than once (and will probably mention it again) that I'm a bit of a weirdo. Out of all that Swedish death metal, I don’t particularly value the biggest classics, I don’t bow before them, and I have an ambivalent attitude toward the “monumental” albums of the so-called Big Four — Entombed, Dismember, Grave, and Unleashed. I get the most enjoyment from lesser-known, less popular bands (like Necrophobic), or those playing not pure death metal but something different, stranger (Crypt Of Kerberos), or from acts operating on the border between death metal and other genres (Pan.Thy.Monium, Edge Of Sanity). I’ll graciously pass over what are probably the most popular names on the Swedish scene right now — Amon Amarth and Arch Enemy. No, I don’t listen to them.

Vomitory always struck me as part of the so-called solid second tier. Just cool, slightly no-frills umpa-umpa at above-average tempos, with equally solid production. I listened, but didn’t really return to them. Until a few years ago, when I saw them live and… something clicked. Suddenly, it turned out that their whole crude, direct style works much better when it hits you in the chest, not just in headphones.

"In Death Throes" — their tenth studio album, released last Friday — sounds like a continuation of that experience. No peacock feathers, no ambitions to redefine the genre. This has always been a band that found its piece of rock somewhere in the north and kept hammering at it with the same tool for years, until you finally started appreciating the rhythm of those blows. There’s a stubborn consistency to it, like in Nordic sagas, where nobody asks “why,” they just do their thing because that’s what needs to be done.

The material moves forward the way it usually does with them — without looking back at fashions or trends. The riffs are solid, often driven by a thrashy edge. The drums sometimes race like a sleigh speeding across ice, other times they dig in heavily, as if someone were trying to bury you in frozen ground. In the slower, more rolling sections, the “tank” motorics straight out of Bolt Thrower come to the forefront — that characteristic, inexorable march that doesn’t so much accelerate as simply crush everything in its path. Rundqvist’s vocals don’t mess around — this isn’t theater, it’s a roar meant to punch straight through you and leave no room for interpretation.

Despite how very “Swedish” all of this is, stylistically it sometimes feels closer to the American school of death metal — less of the characteristic buzzsawing, more direct, almost thrashy cutting. As if somewhere between Karlstad and some forgotten Baltic port, a portal opened leading straight to 1990s Florida.

The production also does a tremendous job — clear, heavy, yet not overloaded, with perfectly balanced space for each instrument. This isn’t a dirty basement or a sterile laboratory, but something like high-quality Swedish steel: a Volvo or a solid Mora knife. It may not scream “luxury,” but it works flawlessly, is durable, and refined in every detail. Because of that, even the most chaotic moments don’t blur into noise, but retain their power and clarity.

This is still the “second league of death metal,” if anyone really needs labels. Except it’s the kind that knows exactly why it’s stepping onto the pitch and doesn’t try to pretend it’s Guardiola-era Barcelona. Instead, you get solid, honest playing that doesn’t exhaust you with fake artistry.

Sometimes it’s enough that everything is in its right place — like a Swedish winter that doesn’t ask your opinion, just kicks the door in, knocks you flat on your back, and then follows up with an icy blast to the teeth. "In Death Throes" works exactly the same way: no discoveries, no surprises — just a solid, merciless, spectacular ass-kicking that you take straight to the chest without a word. And that’s probably the point.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10