It has been thirty years. Thirty long, grueling, often painful years since The Mist last saw fit to bless us with a studio album. Think about that for a second. When these Brazilian thrash titans last released new material, I was twenty-three, and the world was a decidedly different, yet depressingly similar, kind of dumpster fire. Back then, John Major was blandly meandering his way into history as the dullest Prime Minister this country had ever been cursed with, and some complete moronic cultist was proving his followers were utter fucking imbeciles by releasing sarin gas in a Tokyo subway.
Now, three decades have been ground into dust. I’ve just clocked fifty-three, and what’s changed? Absolutely nothing that matters. We’ve replaced one era of beige political mediocrity with another, as Keir Starmer is diligently blanding his way into history as an equally dull Prime Minister. And yes, in a predictable, infuriating circle of human stupidity, people are still, quite definitively, fucking morons.
But let’s forget the endless political and social rot for a moment. What about The Mist? Was this agonizing, three-decade wait worth the endless hours spent staring into the void? Has the inexorable march of time, and the sheer weight of expectation, caused the Brazilian Thrash Metal Titans to finally lose a step, to slow the frantic pace that made them legendary?
Well, let me put it to you in the most unambiguous terms I can muster: If you were suddenly dragged into a street fight with a horde of blood-thirsty, city-destroying Kaiju, you wouldn’t just want The Mist on your side—you’d need this specific record. Because The Dark Side Of The Soul (An Anatomy Of The Soul) is an absolute, fucking monster that doesn’t just destroy everything that crosses its path; it annihilates it, burns the earth, and leaves nothing but ash and ringing ears behind.
This album is not a tentative step back into the studio; it is a violent, unequivocal statement of intent. The moment The Dark Side Of The Soul… kicks in, you are confronted with a sound that has shed any perceived rust of thirty years and replaced it with a sharpened, newly-forged steel. This isn’t just Old-School Thrash—it’s Old-School Thrash delivered with modern venom and the unadulterated fury of musicians who have been waiting too long to unleash hell.
The riffing is relentless, a complex and brutal tapestry of speed and precision that recalls the genre’s golden age while simultaneously proving that Thrash still has teeth. The guitar tone is massive, unforgiving, and perfectly tuned to deliver maximum cranial impact. This isn’t a guitar sound that tickles; it’s one that punches holes in concrete.
The rhythm section is where the true terror resides. The drums are a relentless, punishing barrage, played with the kind of machine-gun velocity and focused power that reminds you why Thrash Metal is called Thrash. The bass is not merely a backing element; it is a grinding, throbbing layer of pure sonic weight that provides the low-end crush necessary to make the high-velocity riffing truly devastating.
The vocals on The Dark Side Of The Soul… are the perfect embodiment of three decades of pent-up anger. They are raw, commanding, and laced with a snarling aggression that cuts through the dense instrumentation like a razor blade. It’s the sound of frustration, defiance, and a refusal to be ignored, all channeled into a single, cohesive, chaotic masterpiece. This album feels like an explosion of everything they kept bottled up since 1995, and we are the lucky bastards who get to witness the fallout.
What truly elevates this record from a mere comeback attempt to a triumph is the sheer depth of the songwriting. The Mist hasn’t just dusted off some old templates; they’ve expanded the sonic architecture. There are moments of crushing groove that give way to blistering, high-speed tremolo attacks, and then suddenly shift into unexpected, dark melodic passages that prove the band is not just interested in speed, but in atmosphere and dynamic impact. Tracks like Anatomy of the Soul, Geppetto’s Song, and Killing my Imaginary Friends, are not just songs; they are carefully crafted lessons in aggression.
The Dark Side Of The Soul… is a vital, necessary reminder of what happens when a legendary band returns with a point to prove. It stands as an immediate, uncompromising pillar in the landscape of modern Thrash, and quite frankly, shames many of the younger bands who have been treading water for the past few years.
Was it worth the thirty-year wait? Every agonizing, miserable, politically disappointing year of it. The Mist has not just reasserted their dominance; they have redefined it.
The Dark Side Of The Soul (An Anatomy Of The Soul) is available now via Alma Mater Records.
CHOICE CUT: Death Is Alive Inside Me
BLACK METAL ARCHIVES VERDICT: Thirty years be damned. The Mist has returned not just to reclaim their throne, but to set it on fire. The Dark Side Of The Soul (An Anatomy Of The Soul) is an absolute, uncompromising monster of a thrash record. It is sharp, devastatingly efficient, and utterly devoid of mercy. This album is a mandatory lesson in fury delivered by titans who haven’t lost a single, crucial step.
