Every once in a while, a band arrives with the kind of debut that doesn’t just demand attention—it detonates it. SEVEN., the latest EP from New York duo Deadlands, isn’t merely a release; it’s a reckoning. With the emotional urgency of a panic attack and the polished precision of a veteran act, Kasey Karlsen and CJ Arey (a.k.a. “NO SHADE”) weaponize their pain, passion, and purpose into seven sin-soaked tracks that hit like a truck and haunt like a memory. This is modern metalcore with teeth—and a pulse.
Opener Villain charges in with a visceral roar, setting the tone with a venomous energy that’s as theatrical as it is personal. Kasey spits fury and pain in equal measure, unearthing betrayal with lines like “You’re a serpent in disguise / ‘Cause you’re killing me.” What elevates this track beyond standard scorned-lover territory is the theatricality—Deadlands don’t just tell stories, they build worlds where scars are stage lights and breakdowns are confessionals.
The EP’s conceptual spine—the seven deadly sins—never feels like a gimmick. Instead, each track is a nuanced exploration of the chaos within. Limbo, tied to Lust, might be one of the most emotionally sophisticated pieces on the record. It’s a sensual, tragic spiral of longing and toxic love, riding a slinky synth line and ghostly groove. The chorus (“Don’t take away my fix of ecstasy”) lingers like the aftermath of a bad decision you’d still make again.
And then there’s Kundalini—a collaboration with The Pretty Wild—that pushes the envelope further. It’s got a menacing elegance, draped in serpentine imagery and spiritual confusion. The pressure builds like a coiled spring, capturing the tension between awakening and obsession.
Deadlands are fearless in their experimentation. Wither, representing Sloth, ditches traditional structure entirely—unraveling like a corrupted memory. Its off-kilter groove and guttural growls bleed into eerie silence, a musical manifestation of mental decay. Meanwhile, MORE!—their take on Gluttony—is a swaggering, stomping beast that confronts addiction and consumption without ever losing its bite or bounce. Karlsen’s demand—“Give me more!”—is both a cry for help and a punch to the gut.
Throughout SEVEN., the chemistry between Kasey and CJ is electric. Her voice is an instrument of contradiction—delicate one second, a sonic chainsaw the next. CJ’s production is massive but meticulous, layering technical intricacies beneath all the chaos. Tracks like Die in Paradise and House of Cards surge with cinematic intensity, offering space for breakdowns, synth flourishes, and fist-in-the-air choruses that feel built for festival stages and headphone introspection alike.
This isn’t just a solid debut EP—it’s a statement of intent. Deadlands aren’t easing their way into the scene; they’re kicking down the door with a scream and a seven-track sermon. Sure, SEVEN. might be heavy as hell, but it’s also heartbreakingly human. It’s chaos with a conscience. Power with perspective.
If this is what Deadlands sound like just getting started, the metal world better brace for what’s next. SEVEN. doesn’t just slap—it scars.
I’m Drew, the founder and editor of Front of the Stage. I have a strong love for music and photography, which started at a very young age. There’s just something I love about experiencing live music and capturing memories that will last a lifetime, and that’s how Front of the Stage came to be.
