Prog metal
Raw energy
Zero compromise

Ruins unfolds as a slow burning and atmospheric piece, guided by mystery, restraint, and emotional release. The song begins at a deliberate pace, creating a sense of mysticism through sparse instrumentation and a subdued dynamic. This opening establishes a space of reflection and tension, drawing the listener into a quiet and fragile world. As the first section fades, the calm is shattered by an explosion of energy driven by low tuned, drop C guitar riffs that bring weight and physicality. The vocals rise sharply in register, carrying raw emotion that contrasts with the heaviness beneath them.

The chorus opens into a wide, memorable melody designed for collective voices, turning isolation into something almost communal. Its simplicity and strength make it instantly singable, anchoring the song emotionally. After the chorus, the arrangement retreats again into near silence, reintroducing the mysterious atmosphere from the beginning. This descent leads into a dark and theatrical bridge, where almost operatic background vocals hover beneath the lead lines. Subtle melodic phrases inspired by oriental and Middle Eastern scales deepen the sense of ritual and distance, giving the song a timeless, otherworldly character.

Energy returns once more through the low end riffs, pushing the song forward until it abruptly breaks into near total silence. From this void, the guitar solo emerges alone. Rather than relying on speed or technical display, the solo is melodic and vocal in nature, shaped to be easily followed and sung along to, reinforcing the song’s emotional accessibility. The outro revisits the chorus in a transformed form, with more urgency and intensity in the vocal delivery. The final vocal lines reach their highest emotional peak before the song closes with a full force return of the intro riff, now unleashed with maximum energy for a decisive and powerful finale.

Lyrically, Ruins is an abstract take on solitude and the mourning of what is left behind as time moves one. It speaks of a world that we no longer recognize as we grow, or lost friendships and passions now gone. It speaks of the hole in everyone's soul that everyone's trying to fill their own way, with religion, music or the presence of others, until the inevitable happens: accept that we all die alone in the end.

As a whole, Ruins balances heaviness and space, melody and darkness. It stands as an emotionally driven song that invites listeners into its quiet devastation before lifting them through shared melody and a final surge of power.

Authorship: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Performance: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet, Babis Petrou, Jace McPherson

Production: Matheus Calache

Let It Go is a sprawling and emotionally layered piece that unfolds over constant transformation. Across its five and a half minutes, the song moves through multiple states of tension and release, using progressive structures, changing time signatures, and wide dynamic contrasts to mirror its central theme of acceptance through motion rather than control.

The song opens in a restrained and melancholic atmosphere. A distant guitar tone, filtered as if heard through an old radio, sets a sense of separation and introspection. Drums move slowly and deliberately, while the bass provides a thick, grounded pulse. Vocals enter softly and reflectively, carrying a fragile calm. A brief transitional guitar figure then shifts the song’s direction. The sense of distance disappears, the sound opens into a full and clear mix, and the emotional weight remains while the energy subtly rises.

The first chorus arrives gently, built on asymmetrical guitar arpeggios that maintain a feeling of imbalance and uncertainty. After it fades, the arrangement gradually gains momentum. Guitars sharpen, the rhythm section grows more assertive, and the vocals return with increased intensity, balancing heaviness with vulnerability. This escalation leads into a second chorus that contrasts sharply with the first. More aggressive and direct, it introduces new melodic ideas and rock driven vocal lines, pushing the song to its first major peak.

From there, Let It Go erupts into its heaviest passage. Low tuned riffs, dissonant intervals, and irregular patterns dominate, amplifying the sense of urgency. The vocals become more forceful and urgent, as if racing toward a moment of self rescue. A demanding guitar solo follows, weaving arpeggios, tapping, tremolo bar expression, and harmonics into a tense and intricate statement. The solo concludes with diminished scale patterns that heighten the feeling of unresolved pressure and the need for release.

The song closes with an outro built as a variation of the second chorus. Here, the vocals break free from strict structure, floating above the tempo and expanding into expressive, almost improvisational lines. This final section feels less like a conclusion and more like an exhale, a moment where control is finally loosened.

Lyrically, Let It Go explores impermanence and surrender without defeat. Natural forces act as metaphors for life’s uncontrollable motion, reminding the listener that resistance often leads to pain, while adaptation offers freedom. The repeated refrain becomes a mantra, not of giving up, but of choosing balance, resilience, and growth within uncertainty.

As a whole, Let It Go stands as one of the band’s most progressive and introspective works, uniting technical complexity with emotional clarity and delivering a journey that feels both turbulent and ultimately liberating.

Authorship: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Performance: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Production: Matheus Calache

The Pyre is an intense and cathartic piece that introduces Violent Inc. with a sound rooted in primal rhythm, dissonant harmony, and emotional volatility. The track opens with tribal drums that set a ritualistic atmosphere, soon joined by guitars and bass attacking with raw energy and angular, dissonant intervals. The core riffing draws heavily from Phrygian and diminished scales, giving the song a dark and unstable tonal center that mirrors its lyrical turmoil.

Midway through, the composition descends into a calm and introspective section. Clean guitars create a momentary pocket of clarity before the bass takes the spotlight with a focused and expressive solo. This leads into a striking guitar solo that cuts through the calm with a sense of urgency, acting as a final breath before the song returns to its earlier aggression. The structure cycles back through the verse and bridge before reaching a sweeping final chorus where the emotional and musical tension reaches its peak.

Lyrically, the track explores self destruction, desire, transformation, and the paradox of seeking freedom through annihilation. The voice of the narrator shifts between confusion, hunger for release, and a near ecstatic acceptance of being consumed by the flames they built themselves. Themes of identity, guilt, and liberation intertwine as the imagery of fire and ritual sacrifice becomes both threatening and cleansing.

The song closes as it began, with tribal drums loaded with fills, echoing the sense of inevitability and cyclical rebirth that runs through the piece. The result is a debut that captures the band’s primal force, emotional depth, and devotion to metal’s darker atmospheric edges.

Authorship: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Performance: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Production: Matheus Calache

Vulture Empire stands as a fierce and unrelenting second chapter for Violent Inc., built on raw instrumentation and sharpened lyrical imagery. The track opens with an abrasive guitar introduction that immediately defines the song’s hostile landscape. Drums and bass join in with weight and precision, transforming the intro into a driving foundation over which the first vocal lines emerge. The arrangement supports the verse with a tight, steady pulse, allowing the storytelling to settle in before the first eruption of the chorus.

The chorus strikes with force. The vocals turn commanding and biting, delivering lines filled with anger and accusation. The instrumental backing amplifies this intensity, giving the chorus an unmistakable sense of urgency. After cycling through another verse and chorus, the song pivots toward a guitar solo that acts as its melodic heart: focused, expressive, and controlled, it rises above the aggression while still carrying the song’s emotional edge. The solo resolves into the bridge, where the music hits its heaviest moment. Chugging guitars and growled vocals collide in a dense, punishing section that carries the bleak message of the lyrics.

The final chorus begins in familiar territory, echoing the earlier refrains, but soon escalates into a more brutal, unrestrained finale. Double kicks, faster riffing, and harsher backing vocals lift the ending into a frenzy of sound, reinforcing the song’s portrayal of predation and decay. The repeated vocal lines in the outro turn almost ritualistic, capturing the inescapable cycle described in the lyrics.

Lyrically, Vulture Empire paints a vivid allegory of corrupted power, greed, and moral collapse. Devils and angels are swept away or owned, leaving only predatory figures who feed on the vulnerable. Imagery of scavengers, cloaked figures, and disappearing souls expresses a world consumed by exploitation. The repeated cry of being pecked apart becomes both literal and symbolic, depicting a society cannibalized by its own rulers.

As a whole, Vulture Empire blends raw energy with precise musicianship, uniting its sonic ferocity with a narrative steeped in cynicism and dark observation. It expands the band’s identity with a track that feels both confrontational and meticulously crafted.

Authorship: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Performance: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Production: Matheus Calache

Too Late, the third work from Violent Inc., pushes the band further into progressive territory, weaving calm vulnerability and frantic heaviness into a single evolving piece. The song opens in its most delicate state, immediately introducing vocals over a steady, hypnotic bass pattern and unsettling clean guitar textures. The drums remain sparse, adding space and subtle tension through carefully placed fills. This fragile calm is slowly destabilized as the guitars shift to dissonant patterns, odd-meter phrasing, and a much heavier tone, clashing purposefully against steady, low vocal lines.

The first true eruption comes in the chorus. The vocals leap to higher notes while the harmony twists into dissonant shapes, creating a sense of urgency and fracture. The chorus resolves into a tight, head-banging section driven by sharp staccatos, offering a rhythmic release before the cycle repeats. After another verse, chorus, and staccato groove, the arrangement turns toward a pre-solo section built on a thrash-inspired guitar riff. Initially, the riff stands almost alone, with drums and bass holding back, but when they finally join in, the energy surges to a new peak.

The solo plunges fully into this thrash foundation. It begins spaced and exploratory, then rises into high bends, rapid scale runs, and ascending fretboard lines. The climactic moment is a frenetic barrage built on diminished-scale intervals, matched by accelerating drum fills that bridge the solo back into the final stretch of the song. The last chorus extends longer than before, delivering a final wave of melodic intensity. The track ends with instrumental repetitions of the earlier staccato motif while the vocals deliver the outro, concluding in a variation of the head-banging section that bookends the song with force.

Lyrically, Too Late reflects on failure, responsibility, and the destructive loops humanity creates for itself. The verses describe inertia, denial, and self-sabotage, painting a world drowning in ash, darkness, and regret. Despite opportunities, blessings, and warnings, the narrator admits that no action was taken, and the consequences are now unavoidable. The third verse sharpens the cynicism with biting irony: even paradise would be ruined under the same patterns.

The repeated refrain declares that it is already too late to change the course, driven by obsession with greed and glitter over substance. Yet the later chorus twists this idea with a grim reversal. It is never too late to witness the destruction of one’s own making or to take part in the dance at the edge of doom. The lyrics close on a final image of prayers lost to fire, paired with a refusal to go quietly.

As a whole, Too Late stands as a complex blend of progressive structure and emotional weight. It shifts fluidly between haunting calm, technical aggression, and thematic bleakness, marking a significant expansion of the band’s musical identity.

Authorship: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Performance: Matheus Calache, Joris Tollet

Production: Matheus Calache