Call them heroes or hell-bringers, it doesn’t matter to the men of Lorna Shore. On their fifth album—the declarative I Feel The Everblack Festering Within Me—the New Jersey quintet are putting all of metal’s subgenres on notice. Because after one listen, you’ll wonder what motivates them and what took metal so long to evolve. You also might wonder whose truck may have hit you while you were listening.

Sure, that last sentence may sound more than a touch hyperbolic. But in the context of the myriad of metal subgenres out there, Lorna Shore—vocalist Will Ramos, guitarist Adam De Micco, bassist/vocalist Michael Yager, rhythm guitarist, synth and orchestral arranger Andrew O’Connor and drummer Austin Archey—are operating on a larger plane than ever before. They’ve hit the viral Spotify charts, racked up hundreds of millions of streams, embarked on highly successful tours and in the process, galvanized a significant fanbase that hangs onto the band’s quest for stylistic inversion. But by virtue of physical onslaught and wanting to divine truth from their music, Lorna Shore have kept themselves fired up by torching the metal rulebook at every turn, practically demanding that other genres step up their game.

“I think a lot of bands—especially in deathcore—they write stuff that they think is cool, but they're not necessarily writing stuff that's true to them,” offers Ramos. “I think between everything that we've been through over the last couple years, those things have helped push the band to [think] bigger. We’re putting our heart and soul into it. I think it's those little experiences that we've been through that help shape that. It doesn't necessarily work for everybody, but it works for us.”

Coming off of 2023’s Pain Remains, the members of Lorna Shore realized they needed to continue to bring their A-game in a big way. Not necessarily in a gladiatorial sense where they must vanquish their colleagues. (Metal might be the most passionate of all the music scenes in the world, but that enthusiasm is parallel to the cutthroat competition.) There are all kinds of levels within the 10 tracks on I Feel The Everblack Festering Within Me. Andrew O’Connor’s orchestral arrangements give the songs an epic, cinematic feel that guides listeners into a mise-en-scene of their own creation. When the other members add their parts, the results are positively stentorian. De Micco can thrust into light-speed, black-metal tropes and then downshift into the kind of phrasing one might hear from a ‘70s guitar hero. Ramos is clearly the heir apparent to the kind of vocal madness that Faith No More’s Mike Patton built his considerable reputation on. Add in the propulsive terror of Yager and Archey, and there’s no reason for Lorna Shore’s collective feet to ever touch the ground. Hardly ordinary by anyone’s standards whether it’s deathcore or black metal, there are things at work on Everblack that feel more like an extension of prog rock due to its extremity and big grandiose gestures.

But something unusual happened on the way toward the Everblack. Conventional wisdom would dictate that a band with over 10 years of touring is going to grow as individuals, musicians, writers and friends. Thoughts and ideals change and like a lot of bands working at a certain level for so long, maybe slowing and toning things down to summon the spirit of commercial potential would be both interesting and necessary. To the surprise of absolutely nobody, the Shore-men doubled-down on the extremity on their new album. Lorna Shore have been able to access new generations of listeners because their emotional firepower is just as devastating as their existing sonic armories.

“I would say aside from me dealing with depression and anxiety and all this other stuff that motivates me to write music, I feel what everyone's saying, but maybe in a different way,” says De Micco. “I know from being a fan of music, getting lost into something separates you from the shit you're dealing with. I think our job as musicians is to be the wedge between people and the shit they're going through. And I hope we can create a little bit of that solace and peace for five minutes the way someone watches a movie for two hours or binges a video game all weekend. I feel like that's my big motivation because I think a lot of people are dealing with a lot of heavy stuff and I think you have to write compelling music to go against the shit that people are dealing with. I feel that motivation to allow what has existed for me to exist for others.” 

We posit that you may be hard-pressed to find a better side one/song one introduction as detonating as Everblack’s opener, “Prison Of Flesh.” The synth arrangements are ominous, Ramos sounds like he’s in the middle of a complete mental unraveling, and the band shore him up with a wall of sound that feels more influenced by an avant-garde aesthetic (perhaps even hyperpop’s anything-goes mindset) than whatever aural paint random bro-dudes are rocking at the tattoo shop. Then you realize that the song is about the history of dementia in the Ramos family. “The idea that the world is falling apart, and about the fear of losing touch with reality,” says the singer. “The line ‘They’re coming to get me’ is my way of personifying ‘demons’ or something that makes you feel like you’re losing pieces of yourself. The closer they get, the further detached you become until you’re nothing but a husk of fear and delusion.” 

The album also offers the poignant “Glenwood,” an arduous piece based on the emotions Ramos had during the extended period of time he was estranged from his father. “My only hope is that when people hear ‘Glenwood,’ they can think about their own lives and the people they’ve pushed away and ask themselves, ‘Is it really worth being upset for this long?’ Time is constantly fleeting, just as we are, as well. There are countless references in this song that only the people who knew me growing up would understand. As you can imagine, this song is one I hold very near and dear to me. I wanted to capture that feeling when I wrote this song. It was so incredibly bittersweet and took a lot of courage for me.” 

While Ramos possesses a set of vocal cords that perform micro-calisthenics nightly, he also has an uncanny ability to refract his darkness towards his fans. On the surface, it sounds terrifying. But Lorna Shore’s audience fervently embraces the singer’s stories and hardships with relish. The feelings of superhuman graphic-novel vicariousness are just as valid and resonant as stories of broken homes and unhealed familial crises. Lorna Shore’s fandom is acutely aware of this: Their early fans have been bringing their kids to their shows and sharing in the thrill of a dynamic metal band, as well as catharsis Lorna Shore delivers.

There’s “Oblivion,” a track significantly influenced by the movie Interstellar, that posits that humanity will constantly fail in its quest to do things for the greater good. “Writing this song felt like the culmination of all the things that we’ve done in the past, but brought to the next level,” explains Ramos. “A more evolved version of what Lorna Shore truly is.” He describes “Unbreakable” as “a song that you can hear on your worst day, and somehow feel like that day was a breeze.” After a significant mindset rehaul (“We didn’t want to throw a million notes on the board, we wanted only the ones that felt… right.”), “Unbreakable” became downright anthemic for the band, with Ramos summarizing it as “a very triumphant, all-inclusive song written to bring people together for a beautiful moment where they can realize that no matter what this world throws at us, it will never break us down. We and our bonds are unbreakable.” 

That sentiment is clearly the hill that the members of Lorna Shore would die upon only to become resurrected with twice the conviction and ambition. The band were all fans of music before they first picked up their gear. Without throwing shade or serving the tea, they will confess that the state of so-called “heavy music” is in desperate need of a whole new consciousness. 

“Everything that I fell in love with about metal as an outcast of society was that it was so different and rebellious and was such high energy—and we're missing that in this world,” states bassist Yager. 

“We all listen to music, we all like music.” says De Micco. “So if it doesn't give us the reaction of ‘This sounds sick, I'm stoked about this,’ then it is not a good idea. I feel like that's always been my threshold, from a fan of music and hearing parts that sound cool or give an emotional reaction to something. If you can't even move yourself, then how the hell do you expect to move others?” 

Yager continues, “I know when we write music, it's very much like we're writing it for ourselves. They're our songs until they're released.”

So in conclusion, Lorna Shore are neither dire misery goats, nor flower-picking pollyannas and definitely not lapdogs currying favor from those who would exalt the ordinary. But once listeners embrace I Feel The Everblack Festering Inside Of Me, they will realize that they’re in Lorna Shore’s movie now, and that might tell them something about their lives. When heroes are hard to find, try looking inside yourself first.