There’s something undeniably magnetic about the way In This Moment’s new album Witch frames itself as a manifesto of inner chaos and rebirth. Maria Brink’s declaration that the record is about ‘alchemizing pain into power’ isn’t just a lyric—it’s a philosophy that feels strikingly relevant in today’s climate of burnout and existential fatigue. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the band is leaning into the archetypal ‘witch’ as a symbol of both destruction and creation, a duality that’s been quietly simmering in pop culture for years but now feels like a necessary reckoning. Personally, I think this approach taps into a broader yearning for narratives that don’t just romanticize struggle but validate it as a transformative force. It’s not about victimhood; it’s about reclaiming agency through adversity. And in an era where so much music leans on superficial positivity, Witch feels like a breath of fresh, smoky air.
The single ‘Crawl’ is a masterclass in tension. Brink’s percussive verses and melodic chorus create a sonic push-pull that mirrors the album’s central theme: the inevitability of downfall for those who perpetuate harm. But here’s what I find especially interesting—this isn’t just a song about revenge. It’s a psychological dissection of power dynamics, framed through the lens of cosmic justice. ‘As above, so below’ isn’t just a mantra; it’s a warning. The track’s aggressive screaming isn’t just for shock value—it’s a visceral representation of the emotional toll of witnessing injustice. What many people don’t realize is that this kind of catharsis is a rare gift in modern metalcore, which often prioritizes technicality over raw emotion. Witch seems to be saying, ‘Let’s get messy.’
The album’s guest collaborators are also worth dissecting. Dayseeker’s contribution to ‘I Want To Believe’ brings a gospel-tinged urgency that feels like a spiritual bridge between genres. Kim Dracula’s presence on ‘Heretic’ adds a layer of theatricality that’s both campy and calculated—a nod to the band’s roots in nu-metal’s more flamboyant days. But the most intriguing choice is Kat Von D’s cover of ‘Another Brick in the Wall.’ At first glance, it seems like a gimmick, but dig deeper and you realize it’s a bold statement. Von D’s voice, with its rasp and defiance, reframes Pink Floyd’s anti-authoritarian anthem as a modern call to arms. It’s a reminder that rebellion isn’t just about rebellion—it’s about who gets to carry the torch. If you take a step back and think about it, this collaboration feels less like a marketing move and more like a deliberate act of cultural curation. The band isn’t just making music; they’re curating a legacy.
The tracklist itself is a roadmap of emotional extremes. From the seething opener ‘Shame’ to the haunting closer ‘Something I Can Never Have,’ the album oscillates between rage and resignation. ‘Sleeping With The Enemy’ is a title that screams irony, especially in a world where enemies are often faceless systems rather than individuals. What this really suggests is that In This Moment is trying to map the chaos of modern existence—how we’re all caught between personal demons and societal pressures. The album’s artwork, with its occult imagery and stark contrasts, reinforces this idea. It’s not just a record; it’s a visual and auditory ritual.
And yet, the most profound aspect of Witch might be its timing. The ‘Taste of Chaos’ tour with Hollywood Undead is a collision of two bands that’ve each carved out their own niches in the metalcore landscape. But what this tour really represents is a generational shift. Hollywood Undead’s early work was all about shock and spectacle, while In This Moment has always leaned into introspection. Their co-headlining run isn’t just a logistical move—it’s a statement that the genre is evolving, and these veterans are still at the forefront. This raises a deeper question: Can a band that’s been around since 2002 still feel fresh? The answer, I think, lies in their willingness to embrace vulnerability without losing their edge. Witch isn’t just another album—it’s a declaration that even the most seasoned artists can reinvent themselves without sacrificing their core identity. That’s a lesson the industry needs to hear, loud and clear.
