Review by Rick Eaglestone for MPM
Four years. That’s how long I have been eagerly waiting for Cage Fight to follow up their 2022 self-titled debut, and if you think that’s an eternity in the world of hardcore, you’d be absolutely right. In that time, we’ve seen bands rise and fall, trends come and go, and the landscape of heavy music shift in ways both subtle and seismic.
Exuvia, is exactly that kind of album. This is the sound of a band that has spent four years on the road, learning their craft in the trenches, absorbing influences from every stage they have shared and every crowd they have faced, and channelling all that experience into something that feels simultaneously familiar and completely fresh.
Rachel Aspe’s vocals will absolutely devastate you – whether she is delivering those throat-shredding screams that sound like pure concentrated rage or those surprisingly melodic clean passages that add genuine emotional depth to the chaos. If you have been following Cage Fight since day one, you will know what I’m talking about, but Exuvia? This is Rachel and the band operating on an entirely different level.
The title itself tells you everything you need to know about what is happening here. Exuvia – the term for the outer shell that creatures like scorpions and spiders shed when they outgrow it, when they need to transform into something larger, something more formidable. It is a perfect metaphor for what Cage Fight have done here: they have shed the skin of that promising debut and emerged as something altogether more dangerous, more ambitious, more willing to take risks that would make lesser bands hesitate.
Confined opens proceedings not with the expected wall of sonic violence but with restraint – a calculated, almost ominous build that feels like watching storm clouds gather on the horizon. There is this low-end rumble, this sense of something massive preparing to break through, and when it does… well, that’s when you realise this isn’t going to be a straightforward follow-up. The atmospheric intro sets the tone perfectly: this is a band that has learned the power of dynamics, of making you wait for the impact, so it hits twice as hard.
Oxygen explodes exactly where Confined left off, and immediately you hear the growth in the songwriting. The riffs feel more intricate without losing any of that visceral impact, the time signature shifts keep you on your toes, and Rachel’s delivery has this ferocity that feels both controlled and completely unhinged at the same time. It is a proper statement of intent.
Pig – already familiar to anyone who’s been paying attention – is where the album really announces itself. This is the track that went viral at Bloodstock for good reason: it’s got this absolutely monstrous groove that’s impossible not to move to, the breakdown section is legitimately crushing, and the subject matter (calling out creepy men who send unsolicited messages online) gives it a righteous anger that makes it resonate beyond just the music itself. If you need proof that Cage Fight can write a banger, here’s your evidence delivered with extreme prejudice.
Pick Your Fighter is where things get genuinely interesting and I absolutely love the audacity of it. Featuring Julien Truchan from Benighted on guest vocals, this track takes inspiration from – and I’m not making this up – a French pop song by Nâdiya called “Et c’est parti.” The sheer brass neck it takes to acknowledge that influence and then create something that sounds this heavy, this aggressive, this absolutely relentless is genuinely impressive. The experimentalism here pays off in spades, and those pig squeals that Rachel mentioned? They are everywhere and they are glorious. This is exactly the kind of left-turn that separates interesting bands from essential ones.
Un Bon Souvenir comes in with this huge, confident opening and doesn’t let up for a second. What is fascinating here is how Rachel weaves clean vocals into the chorus without sacrificing any of the track’s intensity – if anything, those melodic moments make the heavy sections hit even harder by contrast. Lyrically, it is dealing with toxic manipulation and refusing to be diminished, and you can hear that defiance in every note. The French title (it means “a good memory,” dripping with sarcasm) adds another layer to a track that’s already operating on multiple levels.
Deathstalker takes its name from one of the most venomous scorpions on the planet and the track lives up to that billing. Nick Plews and Will Horsman’s rhythm section work here is absolutely punishing – this is the kind of track that was designed to be experienced in a packed venue where the floor is shaking, and you can’t tell where your body ends and the crowd begins. Pure, undiluted hardcore fury with enough technical chops to keep it interesting across repeated listens.
Le Déni provides a moment of genuine atmosphere – acoustic guitar, ethereal vocals, a sense of foreboding that sits underneath everything. After the relentless assault of what has come before, this breathing space is perfectly placed, and it serves as the perfect bridge into the album’s centrepiece. It’s these kinds of choices that show real maturity in the songwriting – knowing when to pull back is just as important as knowing when to go for the throat.
Exuvia, the title track, is six minutes of everything this band has become. Complex riffing that would make prog fans nod appreciatively, time signature changes that never feel gratuitous, and an emotional intensity that Rachel channels through both her vocals and her lyrics. This is where she really opens up about anxiety, assault, and grief – intensely personal subjects that she’s writing about for the first time – and the result is something that feels cathartic not just for her but for anyone listening who’s dealt with similar experiences. The album cover – that radiation mask – connects to her grandmother’s battle with cancer and knowing that context makes this track hit even harder. This is the sound of transformation captured in real-time.
The Hammer Crush does exactly what you would expect from that title – it absolutely pulverizes. This is Cage Fight at their most uncompromising, most aggressive, most willing to just overwhelm you with sheer sonic force. If you need a track to lose yourself to in the pit, this is it, no questions asked. Sometimes subtlety isn’t what is required; sometimes you just need to be bludgeoned, and this track handles that responsibility with enthusiasm.
IHYG (I Hate Your Guts) – and yes, that really is what the acronym stands for – is gloriously, unapologetically direct. There is something genuinely refreshing about a track that just comes right out and says exactly what it means with zero ambiguity. This is anthem material, the kind of track that will have entire rooms screaming along, and it earns that status through sheer conviction. Sometimes the simplest approach is the most effective, and this track proves it.
Élégie closes the album on a contemplative note – an elegy, a moment of reflection after everything that has preceded it. It’s a bold choice to end something this intense with something more subdued, but it works beautifully. After the emotional and sonic journey of the previous tracks, this feels like the moment to sit with what you’ve just experienced, to process it all. It is the sound of a band confident enough to not feel the need to go out with one last blast of aggression.
The production from Sam Bloor at Lower Lane Studios is absolutely stellar – everything has weight and clarity simultaneously, which is no small feat when you are dealing with music this heavy. Jim Pinder’s mix (his work with Sleep Token and Malevolence speaks for itself) ensures that even in the densest moments, you can pick out individual elements while still feeling the full force of the collective assault. It’s the kind of production that serves the songs rather than overwhelming them, letting the raw energy come through while still sounding massive and professional. James Monteith’s guitar work is consistently inventive, finding new ways to be heavy without falling into generic patterns – he is clearly drawing on his experience with TesseracT to bring a level of technical sophistication to the brutality. Nick Plews’ drumming is relentlessly precise, driving everything forward with unwavering momentum while never losing that essential human feel that makes hardcore what it is. Will Horsman’s bass provides the foundation that holds everything together while still having space to add his own character, particularly in those moments where the guitars drop out and you can really hear what he’s doing.
But let’s be clear: this is Rachel Aspe’s show, and she absolutely owns it. Her vocal range is genuinely impressive – from those guttural growls that could hold their own in any death metal context to soaring clean vocals that add real emotional weight to tracks like “Un Bon Souvenir” – and the fact that these are her lyrics, her stories, her experiences being channelled through this music makes it all hit that much harder. Writing lyrics for the first time, tackling subjects as difficult and personal as anxiety, assault, and grief, and doing it all while delivering vocal performances of this intensity? To be this vulnerable while simultaneously being this aggressive is a rare combination, and she pulls it off with absolute conviction. You can hear the catharsis in every scream, the defiance in every growl, the determination in every clean passage.
The more you listen to Exuvia, the more you discover. There are layers here that reveal themselves gradually, moments that hit differently on the third or fourth listen, subtleties that you might miss if you are only experiencing it on a surface level. I’ve found myself going to bed thinking about tracks and waking up wanting to hear them again, which is always the mark of something special. Certain riffs lodge themselves in your brain and refuse to leave. Lyrical phrases echo long after the music stops. The emotional arc of the album as a whole starts to make sense in ways it didn’t on first pass.
This album shows that Cage Fight can still deliver that hardcore intensity that made people fall in love with them in the first place, but they’re doing it while tackling genuinely difficult subjects and pushing their sound into new territories. They have managed to grow without losing their identity, to experiment without losing their edge, to add melody and atmosphere without sacrificing any of the aggression that defines them. It is a difficult balancing act and they have nailed it. The influences from their time on the road are all here – you can hear echoes of the bands they’ve toured with, the crowds they’ve played to, the experiences they’ve had – but filtered through their own unique perspective and transformed into something distinctly Cage Fight.
The four-year wait was worth it. Every single second of it. British hardcore is in very good hands indeed, and if this is what Cage Fight sound like on album two, the future is looking genuinely exciting.
“Don’t bite the hand that feeds.” – Rachel Aspe
Into Oblivion Track listing:
1. Confined
2. Oxygen
3. Pig
4. Pick Your Fighter (feat. Julien Truchan of Benighted)
5. Un Bon Souvenir
6. Deathstalker
7. Le Déni
8. Exuvia
9. The Hammer Crush
10. IHYG (I Hate Your Guts)
11. Élégie
Line-up:
Rachel Aspe – Vocals
James Monteith – Guitar
Nick Plews – Drums
Will Horsman – Bass
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/%5BCage
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cagefightband/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cagefightband/
