Confess – ‘Metalmorphosis’

(Frontiers Records)

There’s a certain kind of record that doesn’t just play it struts into the room, kicks over a barstool, orders something strong, and dares you not to look. Metalmorphosis, the latest slab of sleaze-laced melodic hard rock from Confess, is exactly that kind of beast. It’s loud, unapologetic, a little dangerous around the edges and crucially, it knows it.

From the outset, Confess make it clear they’re not here to reinvent the wheel. They’re here to chrome-plate it, set it spinning at high speed, and make sure it throws sparks while it does. This is an album that understands the sacred DNA of sleaze rock: swagger first, hooks second, and attitude bleeding through every note. But what elevates Metalmorphosis above a simple nostalgia trip is how confidently it blends grit with polish.

Ludwig Norlander and Asser Hakala’s guitars are the obvious headline act. Big, meaty riffs crash in with all the subtlety of a back-alley brawl, but there’s craft behind the chaos. These aren’t just recycled licks stitched together, they’re sculpted, dynamic, and packed with melody. The band knows when to lean into that dirty, streetwise crunch and when to pull back just enough to let a soaring lead line cut through. It’s that push-and-pull that gives the album its sense of motion.

And motion is the key word here. Metalmorphosis rarely sits still. Even in its more mid-tempo moments, there’s a coiled energy, like a muscle waiting to flex. The rhythm section deserves serious credit for that. Lucky’s bass doesn’t just follow, it prowls, adding a low-end swagger that thickens the sound without muddying it. Meanwhile, Samuel Samael’s drums hit hard but stay sharp, keeping everything locked in while still giving the songs room to breathe.

Vocally, Confess strike a sweet spot that a lot of modern bands miss. There’s grit, yes, plenty of it but it’s paired with a strong melodic instinct. John Elliot’s delivery has that classic sleaze-rock sneer, but it never collapses into parody. Instead, it feels lived-in, like the voice of someone who’s actually spent a few nights on the wrong side of town. When the choruses hit, they don’t just land, they stick, burrowing into your head with the kind of stubborn persistence that defines the best melodic hard rock.

What’s particularly impressive is how the band balances excess with control. Sleaze rock, by its very nature, thrives on going a bit over the top, bigger hooks, bigger riffs, bigger attitude. But there’s a fine line between indulgence and impact, and Confess walk it well. The album feels full-bodied without becoming bloated. There’s no sense of filler here, no moments where the energy dips or the ideas run thin.

Stylistically, Metalmorphosis wears its influences proudly, but it never feels trapped by them. You can hear echoes of late-night Sunset Strip decadence, the sheen of melodic hard rock radio staples, and even flashes of heavier metal aggression. Yet the band filters all of it through their own lens, giving the record a cohesive identity rather than a patchwork feel.

The production plays a big role in that, you can sense Eclipse’s Erik Mårtensson’s fingers all over it. It’s slick enough to highlight the melodic elements, those big choruses, those gleaming lead lines, but it doesn’t sand off the grit. There’s still dirt under the fingernails here. The guitars have bite, the vocals have texture, and the overall mix feels alive rather than overly processed. It’s the kind of production that invites repeat listens because there’s always something else to catch, a backing vocal tucked into the mix, a subtle guitar flourish, a rhythmic shift you didn’t notice the first time around.

Lyrically and thematically, the album sticks to the core tenets of the genre: desire, danger, defiance, and a healthy dose of self-destruction. But again, it’s the delivery that sells it. There’s conviction here. Even when the subject matter leans into familiar territory, it doesn’t feel phoned in. It feels like the band actually believes in the world they’re creating, a world of neon lights, fast decisions, and consequences that come later, if at all.

One of the standout qualities of Metalmorphosis is its consistency. It’s easy for albums in this vein to front-load their strongest material and then coast, but Confess keep the intensity up from start to finish. There’s a clear sense of pacing, of knowing when to hit hard and when to let things simmer, but the underlying energy never disappears. It’s the kind of record that rewards playing loud, preferably with the windows down and no particular destination in mind.

If there’s any criticism to be made, it’s that the album doesn’t stray far from its chosen lane. Those looking for radical experimentation or genre-bending surprises won’t find them here. But that feels less like a flaw and more like a deliberate choice. Metalmorphosis isn’t trying to be everything to everyone, it’s aiming squarely at fans of sleaze rock and melodic hard rock, and it hits that target with precision.

‘Colorvision’ kicks the door in with a blast of neon-lit attitude, setting the tone with punchy riffs and a chorus that immediately sticks. It’s the kind of opener that feels like ignition, flashy, confident, and built to grab attention fast.

‘The Warriors’ follows with a tougher, more anthemic edge. There’s a sense of defiance baked into its core, driven by muscular guitar work and a rhythm section that hits with purpose. It leans into that gang-vocal spirit without losing its melodic backbone.

‘Wicked Temptations’ slides into a sleazier groove, dripping with attitude. The band dials up the swagger here, letting the vocals snarl a bit more while the guitars strut rather than sprint. It’s dirty in all the right ways, without losing its polish.

‘Metalmorphosis’ feels like the statement piece. There’s a balance of grit and grandeur, with dynamic shifts that keep things interesting. The band stretches out slightly, showcasing both their heavier instincts and their knack for memorable hooks.

‘Beat Of My Heart’ injects a more melodic, almost arena-ready feel. It’s driven by a strong sense of rhythm and a chorus designed to linger. There’s a warmth here that contrasts nicely with the album’s grittier moments.

‘Pursuit of the Jenny Haniver’ stands out with its intriguing title and slightly more adventurous structure. The band plays with pacing and mood, giving the track a restless energy that keeps you hooked throughout.

‘The Other Side’ leans into a darker, more reflective tone without losing momentum. The guitars carry a bit more emotional weight, and the vocal delivery feels more deliberate, adding depth to the album’s overall flow.

‘Running To My Death’ ramps things back up with urgency. There’s a sense of speed and danger here, driven by tight drumming and sharp riffs. It captures that reckless, live-fast energy that defines the genre.

‘Plague Of Steel’ brings a heavier punch, flirting with a more metallic edge. The riffs are thicker, the atmosphere more intense, and the band sounds like they’re pushing their sound to its most aggressive point on the record.

‘Silvermalen’ closes things out with a sense of finality and scale. It feels expansive, almost cinematic in its delivery, tying together the album’s melodic and hard-hitting elements into a satisfying finish that lingers after the last note fades.

In the end, what Confess have delivered is a record that understands the power of attitude, melody, and momentum and knows exactly how to deploy them. Metalmorphosis lives up to its name not by transforming the genre, but by refining and re-energizing it. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most effective evolution isn’t about changing shape entirely, it’s about sharpening what’s already there until it cuts deeper than ever.

Turn it up, let it roar, and don’t expect it to apologize.

8/10

Essential Track – ‘The Other Side’

Review by Woody