Converge: Love Is Not Enough
Epitaph Records Deathwish Records
LP | CD | DL
Vinyl out soon. CD and DL out now.
Love Is Not Enough heralds Converge’s long-awaited return. It’s been nine years since The Dusk In Us, their last full-blown studio LP. On one hand that feels like an eon ago. On the other, mere moments. Sean Millard feels time slipping through his fingers, as a sense of his own mortality crushes his dreams. Only for Converge’s newest slab of brilliance to build them back up again.
Where does the time go? It’s been nine years since the last ‘proper’ Converge LP, 2017’s The Dusk In Us. Our lust for discordant and rather brilliant Massachusian metalli-core was somewhat sated by 2021’s Bloodmoon team-up with the enigmatic Chelsea Wolfe, but it’s hardly the same thing. So, a new, no-compromise, Converge album is one of the more exciting things that can occur in the circles I lumber around in. All to say, I’ve been anticipating Love Is Not Enough with some enthusiasm.
The title track was previewed by Epitaph last November and only served to fuel my anticipation with its barrage of chaotic guitars and trad. Converge delivery – although my appetite was further whetted, beyond expectation, by a level of immediacy that hasn’t come across from the band before; there’s an energy and spontaneity to the tune that immediately snags your lug-holes. It usually takes me a few listens to bed in with a Converge track, but Love Is Not Enough hinted at new levels of accessibility. Within the constraints of expectation, obviously. They’ll never be ‘pop’.
The album in their back-catalogue that hit hardest in the immediacy stakes – for me – was 2009’s Axe To Fall. It’s the album I most often return to for a quick hit, when required. Perhaps that’s why I’m inclined to draw a line between this latest release and that one, more so than the albums that have come in between the two.
Axe To Fall was joyous in its slappage. It didn’t camouflage its incendiary intent with enigmatic dancing around the point, like other, more progressive Converge LPs might be accused of. It just went for it, like a wonderfully terminal car crash. No escape and no decision making. No choice. Just impact. Multi-tiered, dense and bang on target.
Love Is Not Enough delivers on that same intention. 10 songs. Half an hour. In and out. Absolutely no fucking about. If this is what a break of nine years gives you, more bands should take a sabbatical. Though it frightens me to think that in another nine years, I’ll be of retirement age. So will the Converge boys. Give or take. Where does the time go?
The album is vicious, desperate and explosive. Annoyingly, the vinyl release has been delayed by a month because of pressing plant issues, so I’m reviewing the digital version here. A shame, because the pawing over album artwork, lyrics etc. that comes with the ritual of playing a record has always been a key ‘thing’ for me with Converge. Jacob Bannon’s graphics entrance me and contain almost as many hidden surprises as his lyrics do. It’s an integral part of the process that’s missing this time around. But so it goes. I’ll have to wallow in that next month when I finally get my copy.
The title track opens proceedings with a beautifully catchy riff, full-on metal punctuation, blast beats and gang vocals. There’s a great balance between clean-yelling and abrasive screams. Kurt Ballou’s guitars ebb and flow, wind and wrangle throughout the entire song. There’s so much going on, as usual, but it’s tightened up and presented as such a coherent smack in the chops that if feels vital, immediately magnetic and fit-for-fucking-purpose.
But if you thought that was Converge excelling at sing-along punk rock fury, wait until you get a load of the second song, Bad Faith. It’s got the edge you need when mainlining Converge, but it’s also got so many great hooks in it, that once through leaves you wanting more and you immediately need to go back and do it all again. Its innate ear-worminess is that addictive. Much like aural heroin. One time is never enough. Very moreish.
Initially, the grind of Distract and Divide can feel a little ‘by the numbers’ for Converge. I’m rarely an instant fan of their more incessant hyper-blasting tracks, but once the song hits its stride and really starts to chug, first impressions are abandoned and it redeems itself with honour.
To Feel Something might be a contender. Certainly, for high point of Side One. Listen to it on headphones. Even the intro high hats are engaging. And then, miraculously, at 1.28, preceding the breakdown, the best drum roll of 2026 inflicts itself upon your soul. Rewind. Replay. It’ll be astonishing live. The audience are going to scream along with Jacob’s angst-ridden rallying cry of “I JUST WANT TO FEEL SOMETHING!”. Guaranteed.
I’m guessing that Beyond Repair will finish up the first side of the record when it’s released. It’s an instrumental come-down that serves as a calming reflection on the adrenalised chaos that has preceded it. When you listen digitally, though, it feels more like a lulling segue between To Feel Something and the mentally lumbering-but-driving Amon Amok, the first song thus far to breach the three-minute mark.
It emphasises the god-like playing of Nate Newton; a musician who has more than proved his worth in Old Man Gloom and Jesuit, not to mention the brilliant, rolling, Doomriders. His bass playing is great. Inventive enough to feel refreshing and engaging, but simple enough to ground the skittish riffage of Kurt Ballou. It is Nate that brings the cohesion and legibility to the songs, not to mention the Class A backing roars. Nate’s bass is ably assisted by Ben Koller’s drums, which, although still wonderfully busy and fantastically mental, have more sanity imposed on them this time round, ensuring contrast is delivered between passages. Less of a barrage, more definition. Go team.
Force Meets Presence is Converge doing Slayer. The juddering rhythm riff and the overall structure of the song feel like a hedonistic nod to prime-time influences. Hell Awaits, Reign In Blood… even South Of Heaven. You can really hear it and it’s a beautiful thing. How do you do Slayer without sounding so metal it’s actually Slayer? Dunno. But if anyone can, Converge can.
There’s even a Fugazi vibe to the verse of Gilded Cage. The band are really drawing on a vast array of influences and inspirations, and it serves to create a more identifiable and compelling listen. That said, Gilded Cage might by Side Two’s weakest link, which wouldn’t be that weak at all but for its position surrounded by such strong stablemates.
The pinnacle of whom may be Make Me Forget You. Soaring melodies, chunky chugs and awesome rolling fills punctuating pure four-to-the-floor hardcore. What a choon. It’s even got a crowd-baiting breakdown buried deep within its five-minute runtime – the longest track on here.
It’s interesting to see the band strip themselves back and just go for something entirely straightforward. It really works. At the risk of sounding anti-‘Verge, Make Me Forget You is my banger of the match. It lifts you so high and only lets go to catch you safely again. A bit like a fun Dad. Where does the time go?
It’s as good a question now as it was at the start, because our half hour with Converge is now about to climax, with We Were Never The Same. And what an epic ending to a flat-out, beautiful barrage of bludgeoning barbarism it is.
Witness the high-string Ballou riffs! Wrap yourself in the roiling bass-line of Newton! Surrender to the trub-thumping heaviosity of Koller – and the way he makes a break for it periodically with another four-to-the-floor slam sequence! Finally, nuzzle the sweaty neck of Jacob Bannon’s squalling vocals and snuggle yourself into his warm and fuzzy lyrical genius. So desperate, so empowered.
The song ends in a dramatic stop that continues to ring, long after the band has left the stage.
What an album. Seriously. I know that life is too short to cover albums you don’t think are great and that you really want everyone else to know about. It’s an honourable motivation, even if I say so myself. But occasionally, one comes along that you really feel blessed to be able to write about. It’s easy. It’s a thrill. Love Is Not Enough is one of them. It will absolutely be on my album of the year list.
Jane Doe gets all the accolades. Justifiably, probably. It delivered a whole new vision for hardcore. But for me, the immediacy and impactful writing of Love Is Not Enough surpasses it. Maybe not critically. Maybe not commercially. But Jane Doe was of a time and a place that really needed that record to exist.
Now, in 2026, what do we want from Converge? Whatever it is, and I guess it’s circumstantial to each listener, I believe Love Is Not Enough will deliver it. It’s just as vital as anything in Converge’s past. Just as imperative. The playing is awesome. The production is absolutely bang on; thick enough to be weighty, refined enough to be articulate. The writing is genuinely reverential but also forward-facing; the band manages to feel contemporary at the same time as wearing influences proudly on their sleeves – and yet they only ever sound like themselves. A truly unique band and a superb addition to their catalogue.
Listening to Love Is Not Enough makes the blood course through your veins, a shit-eating grin stretch across your face and your fists clench with every phase of every song. It makes you feel vital again. And when was the last time you felt like that? I wonder where the time goes?
~
All words by Sean Millard. Read more at *Expletive Deleted
A Plea From Louder Than War
Louder Than War is run by a small but dedicated independent team, and we rely on the small amount of money we generate to keep the site running smoothly. Any money we do get is not lining the pockets of oligarchs or mad-cap billionaires dictating what our journalists are allowed to think and write, or hungry shareholders. We know times are tough, and we want to continue bringing you news on the most interesting releases, the latest gigs and anything else that tickles our fancy. We are not driven by profit, just pure enthusiasm for a scene that each and every one of us is passionate about.
To us, music and culture are eveything, without them, our very souls shrivel and die. We do not charge artists for the exposure we give them and to many, what we do is absolutely vital. Subscribing to one of our paid tiers takes just a minute, and each sign-up makes a huge impact, helping to keep the flame of independent music burning! Please click the button below to help.
John Robb – Editor in Chief
