Release Date April 17th, 2026
Format CD/Digital/Vinyl
Genre Doom Metal, Heavy Rock
Origin USA/Mexico
Born out of an impromptu session at SXSW in 2022, Demons My Friends are a trio of Mexican-origin ruffians now based in Austin who clearly decided that therapy was too expensive and riffs were a better way to handle their baggage. Their debut album was all about making peace with the internal voices that keep you awake at night, and this sophomore follow-up, "Survive/Yourself", pushes that dynamic further. It’s a heavy-as-hell trio featuring Pablo Anton on guitars and vocals, Lu Salinas on bass and vocals, and Tarro Martinez behind the kit. They’ve already done the rounds supporting big names like Bruce Dickinson and Graveyard.
This new tunes is essentially a diary of a year spent in the grinder. Between the three of them, they dealt with job losses and family crises, then retreated to Cuernavaca to turn that misery into something audible. "Survive/Yourself" isn't a happy-go-lucky stroll; it’s a heavy rock document that has the grime of the real world.
You can tell these songs weren't over-thought in some high-end penthouse, they were scraped together across multiple studios with help from guys who know how to capture a raw vibe.
Musically, if you spent the nineties worshipping at the altar of Seattle or the sludge of the South, you’re going to find a lot to latch onto here. There is a deep, underlying DNA of Alice In Chains and Soundgarden lurking in the shadows, particularly in the way the vocal hooks hang over the music. Songs like "The Theory Of Change" and "Last Dance" don't mess around with fluff. They just get straight to the point with a heavy-handed low end that’ll rattle your teeth and a grungy atmosphere that stays stuck to your skin.
The trio dynamic works in their favor because there’s nowhere to hide. Martinez’s drumming is a constant force, and the way the bass and guitar lock in on "Star Child" and "Kalorama" creates a heavy groove that stays grounded. It’s not about showing off or playing a million notes a minute; it’s about that specific, wistful energy that happens when you're tired of the world but still have enough fire to plug in an amp. "We All End Up Here" and "Brain Holographics" bring that nihilistic edge to the forefront without sounding like a parody.
By the time you get to "Smile" and "The Isolate", it’s clear this is a band that knows their way around a dark melody. The vocal interplay between Anton and Salinas adds depth that keeps the tracks from blending together into one big blur. It’s an honest, heavy rock record that doesn't pretend to be something it isn’t. They’ve managed to capture that specific feeling of holding your life together with duct tape and distorted guitars.
| 7.5
Add comment
Comments