Rejoice, all ye head-bangers and metalheads out there: your lord and saviour hath returned, and with a new suit of holy commandments in tow. Jesus only came back to life once, but good ol’ Chris Barnes is the gift that just keeps on giving, now coming out with the fifteenth studio album in the Six Feet Under catalogue— this is the same man that gave us comedy metal masterpieces like 2020’s ‘Nightmares of the Decomposed’ and 2016’s ‘Graveyard Classics IV: The Number of the Priest,’ and that’s reason enough to be excited. How disappointing it is, then, to see that ‘Next to Die’ is not nearly as hilarious as its predecessors.

That’s right: death metal’s answer to Dave Mustaine has blessed us with another twelve tracks, and he’s sticking to the same formula that made 2024’s ‘Killing For Revenge’ such a gut-buster. You can feel Barnes’ influence right from the meandering drudge that is opener ‘Approach Your Grave,’ where the guitars sound drier than any woman unfortunate enough to be listening to Six Feet Under: this old school metal legend clearly has no time or patience for any of that newfangled ‘songwriting’ or ‘lyricism’ or ‘decent production,’ and it’s this barebones presentation that allows ‘Next to Die’ to display the full depth of his genius. Barnes has a unique character to his work that you can spot a mile off, and you can clearly recognise his handiwork on the babies-first-death metal of ‘Mister Blood and Guts’ and the torturous ‘Skin Coffins.’ Seriously, just read these lyrics— his penchant for absurdist comedy remains as tickling as ever.

“Arriving as the living

Leaving as the dead

Aisles are filled with blood

Seats are filled with heads”

It’s unfortunate, then, that guitarist Jack Owen foolishly attempts to inject some energy and drive into cuts like ‘Naked and Dismembered’ and lead single ‘Unmistakable Smell of Death:’ that is not what we listen to Six Feet Under for, god damn it. Thank goodness for the ever-reliable talents of Chris Barnes, who smothers both songs (which could have been passable attempts at death metal, at least on paper) beneath his best impression of ‘Cookie Monster with raging diarrhoea.’ ‘Next to Die’ is a much faster record than anything this band have done in at least a decade, and it does manage to sneak some halfway decent riffs in between those big laugh-out-loud punchlines— ‘Mutilated Corpse in the Woods’ is actually catchy, honestly, and a song like ‘Wrath and Terror Takes Command’ is so good that it could’ve been written by Cannibal Corpse or Obituary (y’know, if they weren’t trying and immediately threw it out for something more inspired). For Six Feet Under, this is the best musicianship we’ve heard in a long time.

Of course, no-one is listening to Chris ‘I was on good albums thirty years ago’ Barnes for his layered songwriting, or for the genuinely decent lead work Jack Owen brings to the table. The greatest downfall of ‘Next to Die’ is its reluctance to lean into the standout vocal moments and rip-roaring lyrical clichés that made 2020’s ‘Nightmares of the Decomposed’ one of the most talked-about records of that year. Barnes doesn’t execute on a single high-pitched ‘EEE’ sound anywhere across this record, even if the grizzled roar on the title track isn’t a half-bad replacement. Ultimately, most of these tracks won’t leave you in stitches out of comedy, but because you’d rather cut your own ears off than listen to the aptly named ‘Mind Hell’ or the bizarre whispers of ‘Ill Wishes.’ This time, the joke is not on us.

In 2026, Six Feet Under are at an impasse. Having failed to put out a genuinely solid death metal project since the turn of the millennium, the band finally found relevance again with some of the most outrageous and bonkers comedy metal albums you’ll ever hear: why, then, is their latest outing so cut-and-dry? Once can’t help but worship at the altar of Chris Barnes, the greatest to ever do it: still, we must admit that ‘Next to Die’ just doesn’t have an ace-in-the-hole like ‘The Noose’ or ‘Neanderthal’ up its sleeve.