With American idealism and societal unity in flames, the ethereal ambiance of Denver's ABRAMS has been permeated by vibrating, hair-trigger fury. 2024’s soaring and driving Blue City was a record full of arresting, nostalgic textures that Metal Hammer Magazine called ""an upswell of positivity in the face of frustration that’s sure to shake you from your existential slumber."" But this is no longer the world of that album.
The grinding hopelessness and chaos of these times have infused ABRAMS with the shattering intensity of Converge. Urgent and abrasive, Loon is acerbic, fed up, and riddled with pulverizing fury. Wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression. Crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. The band’s instinctive hooks aren't gone, and hopeful moments do shine intermittently through. But it’s clear that ABRAMS, like a lot of us, are pissed off.
Desperate and seething, Loon is an irresistible, frenzied purge from a band refusing to give in
The grinding hopelessness and chaos of these times have infused ABRAMS with the shattering intensity of Converge. Urgent and abrasive, Loon is acerbic, fed up, and riddled with pulverizing fury. Wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression. Crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. The band’s instinctive hooks aren't gone, and hopeful moments do shine intermittently through. But it’s clear that ABRAMS, like a lot of us, are pissed off.
Desperate and seething, Loon is an irresistible, frenzied purge from a band refusing to give in