Rivers of Nihil – Rivers of Nihil: New Voices, Old Ghosts, Absolute Power

Rivers of Nihil
Rivers of Nihil
Metal Blade, May 30, 2025

There’s a peculiar alchemy that occurs when a band sheds its skin and steps into something wilder, leaner, and more fearless. Rivers of Nihil—the album, the statement, the self-titled exorcism five records deep—feels less like a rebirth than a bloodletting. And it’s glorious.

Lead bassist Adam Biggs now helms the mic like a man possessed, unleashing seismic roars and angelic cleans in equal measure, while guitarist Andy Thomas (ex-Black Crown Initiate) slides into the lineup like he’s always been there, adding harmonic depth and that ice-pick stare of technical confidence. This record doesn’t just introduce a new Rivers—it blows the doors off the monastery where the old one died screaming.

Opener “The Sub-Orbital Blues” is a star-surfing warhorse, driven by riffs the size of tectonic plates and harmonies that glow like solar flares. It’s both an introduction and a coronation: Biggs and Thomas splitting vocals like twin gods of thunder and mercy. The track is majestic—truly—and that word isn’t thrown around lightly.

Then comes “Dustman,” swaggering like a drunk warlord into a cathedral. It grooves, it stomps, it pulverizes. The drumming is unhinged—think Gene Hoglan locked in a meth lab with a stack of Meshuggah records—and yet it’s perfectly on point. There are eerie symphonic moments lurking in the corners, but they never soften the blow—they only sharpen it.

By the time you hit “Criminals,” the band is playing chess in four dimensions. Blackened shrieks merge with bright, melodic structures, guitars spiral into space, and the clean/growl blend becomes less of a gimmick and more of a philosophy: light and dark aren’t fighting here—they’re dancing. “Despair Church” follows with aching restraint, collapsing into a funeral dirge of piano and sax that feels like wandering through a flooded cathedral in a dream. Devastating.

Yes, the saxophone is back. And it’s beautiful. “Water & Time” leans into it, an electronica-tinged lament that highlights Biggs’ clean vocals in a show-stopping turn. Elsewhere, “Evidence” rages like an orbital strike, while “American Death” pummels with machine-gun precision and arena-sized choruses. “The Logical End” is a compositional masterclass, piecing together the record’s DNA in new configurations—equal parts savagery, grandeur, and ghostly restraint.

And then the closer. “Rivers of Nihil,” the song, on Rivers of Nihil, the album, by Rivers of Nihil, the band. It’s not just self-referential; it’s self-possessed. After all the carnage, this track steps back and breathes. It’s a eulogy and a vow. Thematically, musically, spiritually—this is the band’s mission statement. Not nihilism. Not despair. But defiance. Transcendence.

This album isn’t a rebrand. It’s a reaffirmation. Of purpose. Of evolution. Of sheer goddamned power.

🔥 RATING: 10/10
💀 KEY TRACKS: “The Sub-Orbital Blues,” “Water & Time,” “Despair Church,” “Criminals,” “Rivers of Nihil”
📻 FILE UNDER: Where Owls Know My Name possessed by Blackwater Park and shot into orbit with Colors-era BTBAM at the controls