The release of ‘Tū’ in 2018 shot New Zealand’s Alien Weaponry to the forefront of metal discourse: fusing raw and aggressive riffs with the sounds and style of Maori culture, the three-piece have earned their keep as one of the most exciting and distinctive up-and-comers in the scene. In 2025, the group appear keen to capitalise on that wave of attention with new record ‘Te Rā,’ which sees Alien Weaponry’s sound in its most accessible and digestible form yet. That might not be a point of wholehearted praise though: while the elements that made an album like ‘Tangaroa’ so thrilling are still alive and well on ‘Te Rā,’ the question of why you should be listening to the trio has become harder to answer than ever in its wake.

That’s right: for all intents and purposes, Alien Weaponry are a modern metalcore outfit now. Opening cut ‘Crown’ does very little to disguise the influence that pioneers like Bullet For My Valentine have clearly had on its sound— rather, ‘Te Rā’ tends to fully embrace this change in direction, leaning into all the tropes of the genre. Though it’s not a style that previous fans are guaranteed to enjoy (as we’ll discuss), it’s pleasing to see the band often sticking the landing on their first try. Lead single ‘Mau Moko’ is about as textbook metalcore as one could hope for, full of all the melodic guitar work and gigantic hooks the genre thrives in. There’s a greater emphasis than ever on Lewis de Jong’s technical abilities as a guitarist throughout the record: an occasion he often rises to, bringing some of his most refined and polished playing to date. It’s hard to imagine anyone with even a passing interest in metalcore taking issues with a cut like ‘1000 Friends’ either— in its best moments, ‘Te Rā’ acts as a comfortable love letter to the genre’s past.

It must be said, though, that this drastic change in sound does dilute the unique appeal of Alien Weaponry: there’s a distinct fear the album conjures that the trio could simply be lost in the overabundance of modern metalcore groups. A number of the band’s signature writing devices continue to appear, as ever— most notable is the unique approach to vocal melody and harmony, which continues to incorporate unconventional musical ideas into a metal sound without a hitch. There’s also familiar atmospheric moments throughout the record, such as the spoken word portion of ‘Blackened Sky’ that feels ripped straight from 2022’s ‘Ahi Kā.’ In practice though, these ideas are forced to rub shoulders with a host of generic metalcore riffs and sounds. Gone is the grim, abrasive production of ‘Tangaroa:’ instead, the sound design of ‘Te Rā’ is near indistinguishable from that of any other modern metal outfit. The bouncy metalcore grooves of a cut like ‘Crown’ come at a heavy price, and upon reflection, we’re not sure we would’ve sacrificed Alien Weaponry’s evocative style for them.

Perhaps that’s something of an unfair criticism though: if the New Zealand trio were able to pull off a pristine collection of modern metal songs, holding the change of direction against them would surely be unwarranted. It’s disconcerting, then, to see the track list of ‘Te Rā’ buckling time and time again. Though Alien Weaponry’s records have never been quite as concise or well-doctored as we might’ve hoped, there’s a monotony that sets in towards the end of their new record that feels all its own— the final three cuts truly feel like window dressing, wandering in aimless and generic material that makes the ripping style of ‘Kai Tangata’ or Hatupatu’ feel like a world away. For as far as Alien Weaponry have distanced themselves from their usual style, too many of their usual pitfalls continue to haunt them: ‘Hanging by a Thread’ is just as much of a momentum-killer as ‘Blinded’ was three years ago! There’s also Randy Blythe’s extensive feature on ‘Taniwha’ to consider, which sees the Lamb of God frontman giving the same forgettable performance as ever: subpar screams and pointless spoken drawls pervade the cut, sucking the life from an otherwise promising song.

Even among a spotty crop of tunes though, there are bright spots (even outside of the fairly exciting three-track run that opens the record). Chief among them is ‘Myself to Blame,’ which sees Alien Weaponry taking on a semi-traditional metal ballad— between its uncomfortable chord voicings and poignant lyrics about regret and self-assessment, the song stand firmly apart from the rest of ‘Te Rā’ as a distinct and focused experience that cuts right to the heart.

“How can you still love me when I don't love myself?

How can you accept me when I have torn you down?

You're the archetype of an angel and I'm the f*cking plague

But I swear to you that this time things are gonna change”

It’s reassuring to see Alien Weaponry’s focus on themes of injustice and oppression continuing to stay at the forefront of their lyrical choices, which remain as cutting as unrestrained as they were on ‘Tangaroa’— the band’s music may sound very different in 2025, but the message remains a poignant and powerful one. We’re also pleased to report that the trio’s usage of the Maori language remains an essential cornerstone of their sound: standout cut ‘Tama-Nui-Te-Rā’ barrels through its runtime with a bulldozer, seeing the band’s chanting growing increasingly aggressive and electrifying all the while.

Truthfully, the vast majority of ‘Te Rā’ is made up of solid (or even quite good) material: the trio certainly know how to write songs that pack a punch. The record is, nonetheless, extremely difficult to recommend— not because it’s bad, but because it’s not all that memorable or interesting. Alien Weaponry are leaning dangerously close to ‘mundane’ on this new album, sacrificing a little too much of their unique appeal for comfort. The band could certainly find heaps of success in metalcore down the road: if that does happen to be the case though, we’re not quite sure ‘Te Rā’ will be the record to do it.