CONVERGE

Since being unofficially canonized by critics and fans alike after the release of 2001's "Jane Doe", CONVERGE have become something greater and more enduring than just a simple hardcore band. Each successive album has contributed to the impression that the Boston band have more depth and intelligence than any of their supposed peers, and with ventures like "Bloodmoon I", their 2021 collaboration with Chelsea Wolfe, they have demonstrated a lust for creativity that was only hinted at during their early years. CONVERGE are certified legends and, as a result, "Love Is Not Enough" has already been received with rapturous enthusiasm by just about everyone who has heard it.

A band that routinely get frothing, congratulatory reviews from all quarters, they are clearly in no mood to start letting people down. But despite being consistently brilliant and adventurous, CONVERGE are still a snotty hardcore band at heart, and their 11th full-length is primarily notable for being the most straight-ahead and destructive record they have made in a long time. Resolutely punk as fuck, but sonically vast and dripping with fresh vitriol, "Love Is Not Enough" is the perfect response to a world held to ransom by drooling fuckheads. Don't forget to wear a helmet.

As has always been the case, "Love Is Not Enough" is a ferociously intelligent record, with frontman Jacob Bannon's lyrics hitting their intended targets with venomous precision. Sentiments range from a dissection of malevolent intentions ("Bad Faith") to a study of our instinctive, unspoken resistance to solidarity ("We Were Never The Same"),and all raw and revelatory points in between, with Bannon's incendiary screech cutting through his bandmates' absurdly focused melee of noise like an unstoppable dagger of justice. But as has also been the case, at least since "Jane Doe", "Love Is Not Enough" balances out its creators' artful, cerebral tendencies with a thick, pummeling strain of thuggish directness that is frequently jaw-dropping in its intensity, as demonstrated by the title track, which emerged to no small fanfare back in November 2025. CONVERGE have become even more adept at kicking the mother-lovin' shit out of everyone and everything. Although still rooted in metallic hardcore, the omnipresent threat of a tumultuous beatdown included, "Love Is Not Enough" cuts deeper and with more sincerity than any empty noise from the average vest-wearing street gang. Impossibly thrilling and guaranteed to send audiences into a state of violent, explosive bliss, these new songs amount to an exhilarating re-stating of values.

After the ruinous adrenalin rush of the opening title track, CONVERGE spend the rest of "Love Is Not Enough" building momentum and reveling in righteous animosity. "Bad Faith" is grim, stealthy and as inescapable as an elite sniper's bullet, with riffs that churn with lobotomized abandon; "Distract and Divide" is 91 seconds of hellish blastbeats, runaway hatecore and grinding, low-slung sludge; "To Feel Something" is wild and brutal, drunk on dissonance, and almost indecently furious; and "Beyond Repair" offers a brief sliver of respite, as glassy, disorienting ambience simmers and swells around an astutely unfussy melodic motif.

Remarkably, the second half of the album is even more crucifying. CONVERGE have always been a major threat at a slow pace, and "Amon Amok" is a prime example of how their mastery of mood and texture is even more lethal when executed at snail's pace. "Force Meets Presence" is a two-minute apocalypse, with multiple twists and turns, and riffs that wouldn't be out of place on some howling mad thrash record from the late '80s. In contrast, "Gilded Cage" offers a quietly radical sidestep into sinister noise rock, with a bass tone that will upset your stomach, and a murderous, apoplectic chorus that explodes like a nail-bomb at a funfair. Concluding with the bilious, melodic punk rock sprint of "Make Me Forget You", and "We Were Never The Same"'s rolling waves of sinewy, grief-stricken monotony, "Love Is Not Enough" is everything a devoted fan could possibly want from a new CONVERGE album. 36 years into an unfuckwithable career path, the unearthly kings of hardcore are still obliterating all-comers.