Two Converge albums in one year: are we dreaming? Before the release of ‘Love Is Not Enough’ back in February, it had been nine years since the band’s last solo record ‘The Dusk In Us’— now that the floodgates are open, Ballou and company seem keen to pile on the monstrous riffs by the truckload. ‘Hum of Hurt’ is no less vicious or relentless than its predecessor, once again slotting in as a welcome addition to the Converge catalogue. Track for track, though, this new project isn't quite as strong as what came before.

‘Hum of Hurt’ is here to rip your entrails out just like ‘Love Is Not Enough’ did, but where that album brought crushing metal heft to the table, this new one is more raw and punk-ish— ‘Slip the Noose’ isn’t interested in acting as some grandiose introduction to the project, but launches itself straight into a disquieting mix of dissonant note choices and racing tempos. Converge’s latest output isn’t torturous in quite as same way as, say, the extreme distortion that choked 2001’s ‘Jane Doe,’ but their work continues to indulge in grim tones and an unyielding anger that can feel almost frightening at times. In comparison to its sister record, ‘Hum of Hurt’ is far less structured in its destruction of your eardrums: a track like ‘I Won’t Let You Go’ has no interest in gradually introducing musical ideas, instead throwing an insane mix of percussive twists and gnarly guitar parts at you from all sides. All of this to say, Converge are far from mellowing out thirty years into their careers— Ballou and company still have that fire in them.

That looseness, that unhinged quality, completely defines ‘Hum of Hurt,’ but not always to its betterment: ‘Love Is Not Enough,’ as explosive and uncompromising as it could be, found room for memorable moments and decisive melodies that its successor has no time for. There’s a point in the middle of the record— somewhere around the diabolical ‘Detonator’ and the dizzying math rock number ‘It’s Not Up To Us’— where the band’s technicality and boundless aggression gets away from you and you’re left to look in on this arresting assembly, rather than to truly live in it. In this stretch, there are no moments of reprieve, no time for Kurt Ballou to take a breath, and that was undoubtedly the intention: as they’re presented though, these songs lose their ability to shock you when every one is running at a thousand miles an hour. It’s only when ‘Dream Debris’ enters its bass solo that ‘Hum of Hurt’ hooks the listener back in, even if it is with its most monotonous material.

The record is always at its best when Converge balance their boisterous performances out with rock-solid songwriting, not that a band this legendary should have any issues doing such a thing. Single ‘Doom in Bloom’ may be the simplest cut on the record, but its combination of stomping riffs, ugly bass accents and humongous “no-one has the right to judge me” refrains is positively pummelling, even more so than ‘Slip the Noose’ before it. The title track is similarly anthemic, maintaining a tremendous sense of pace and momentum while remaining measured and cohesive in every moment— the ambient dread of ‘It Used to Matter’ may be a little drawn out, but the track does an excellent job preparing the listener for the auditory anguish to follow. Truth be told, there’s little to say about ‘Hum of Hurt’ that wouldn’t also apply to the vast majority of Converge’s output, consistent and remarkable as it is. For any other metalcore act, ‘It Only Gets Worse’ and ‘Nothing is Over’ would be their crowning achievements: for this lot, they’re merely strong additions to an already phenomenal discography.

From its name alone, you should know what ‘Hum of Hurt’ is going to deliver: it’s packed with painful lyrical themes, booming metallic bursts and gut-wrenching screams, and when all is said and done, it delivers the Converge experience you'd want it to. It’s not the most ambitious or consistent output of their careers, sure— hell, it’s not even their best album of 2026— but for a band like this, the bar will always be set at an impossible height. ‘Hum of Hurt’ does exactly what it set out to do: it’s worthy of the Converge name.