Mastodon – Marrow Deep

Album Review

BAND[FRAMED]

Few bands have managed to move between sludge metal, progressive rock and outright heavy metal as naturally as Mastodon. More than two decades after Leviathan pushed the Atlanta band far beyond the underground, their catalogue has become increasingly expansive without completely cutting ties with the aggression that shaped their early records.

Marrow Deep, released on 28 August 2026 through Loma Vista Recordings, arrives under very different circumstances. It is Mastodon’s first album following the departure and subsequent death of founding guitarist and vocalist Brent Hinds in 2025. The record also grew from drummer Brann Dailor dealing with the death of his mother. Loss, something that has repeatedly found its way into Mastodon’s music, is therefore again close to the surface.

The current line-up brings guitarist Nick Johnston and keyboardist João Nogueira into the picture alongside Dailor, Troy Sanders and Bill Kelliher. Rather than trying to recreate the exact chemistry of the old four-piece, Marrow Deep sounds like a band figuring out what Mastodon can be after a fundamental change.

ALBUM[FRAMED]

Opening track “Barbarians Blood” wastes little time answering the most obvious question. Mastodon still sound like Mastodon. Kelliher’s riffs grind against Dailor’s restless drumming while the song moves through several ideas without losing its weight. More importantly, there is an urgency here that occasionally disappeared beneath the scale of 2021’s Hushed and Grim.

That continues into “Poisonous Weapons”. Heavy passages sit alongside the more progressive instincts Mastodon have developed over the years, but the transitions feel purposeful rather than included simply because the band can make them work. The track also contains a sample from River’s Edge, connecting it to Dailor’s late friend Joey Jordison and adding another small layer to an album already surrounded by absence.

“Your Ghost Again” is where the emotional core becomes harder to ignore. Mastodon have rarely dealt with grief by becoming quiet. Instead, they tend to bury it inside enormous riffs, strange melodic turns and songs that constantly change shape. Here, melody and heaviness coexist without one softening the other.

Then comes “Snakes for Dinner”, one of the record’s stranger and more immediate moments. It shows why the new configuration works. Johnston is not being asked to impersonate Hinds. His cleaner, technically precise playing changes the guitar dynamic, giving Mastodon another vocabulary rather than a substitute for what has gone. That distinction matters. Hinds’ playing was too recognisable to reproduce convincingly anyway.

The middle of the album is less consistent. “Out Like a Lamb” benefits from its slower development, while “In the Ruins” stretches similar ideas without quite finding the same payoff. Mastodon have always enjoyed letting songs wander, but Marrow Deep occasionally crosses the line between patient songwriting and simply taking too long to arrive somewhere. It is the record’s clearest weakness.

When the balance works, though, it works extremely well. “Golden Spires” brings the band’s progressive side together with the physical weight of their earlier material, while “Moth and Bone” moves back towards the more atmospheric territory of their later catalogue. The contrast gives the second half room to breathe.

There is also an interesting sense of space throughout the record. With Hinds no longer occupying such an unpredictable part of the arrangement, Sanders’ vocals and Dailor’s drumming often feel more exposed. The result is not necessarily a wilder Mastodon, but arguably a more focused one. Hinds’ absence remains audible precisely because nobody is pretending it isn’t there.

The final stretch makes the most of Mastodon’s tendency towards longer compositions. “The Vanishing” passes six minutes before “The Three Fates” closes the record at nearly eight. The latter feels appropriately unresolved. There is no neat ending to what this album is dealing with, and Mastodon resist forcing one onto it.

At 65 minutes, Marrow Deep still asks for commitment. This is not Mastodon stripping everything back or chasing the directness of Leviathan. There are psychedelic detours, progressive structures, slower passages and plenty of moments where the band deliberately avoids the shortest route between two riffs.

But underneath all of that, there is considerably more bite than might have been expected.

[FRAMED]RECAP

Marrow Deep could easily have become an album defined entirely by who is missing. Instead, Mastodon acknowledge that absence and keep moving.

Nick Johnston does not replace Brent Hinds stylistically, which is exactly why his presence works. The guitar chemistry has changed, some of the chaos has disappeared and the band occasionally drift too far into their own progressive tendencies. Yet there is renewed energy running through much of the record.

It does not attempt to manufacture another Leviathan or Crack the Skye. Those records belong to a different Mastodon. Marrow Deep is about finding out what remains after a difficult break with the past.

The answer is still heavy, still strange and still recognisably Mastodon.

★★★★★★★★☆☆ 8/10