When I reviewed last year’s Sunn O))) EP and Sub Pop debut Eternity’s Pillar, I ended by saying that the band’s next album would be a make-or-break moment in their discography. It reintroduced a back-to-basics approach for Sunn O))), spearheaded by their decision to proceed as a duo without any of the collaborators that had defined much of their 2010s output. It was a decent record, if a bit inconsequential, but there was hope on the horizon because of the band’s reflection on their career so far. Still, at the end of 2025, it was not clear what direction Sunn O))) were going. Now in 2026 with their new record, it’s clear that some amount of insight was gleaned from Eternity’s Pillar‘s trip down memory lane.

Opening track “XXANN” starts as a continuation of the rediscovery and self-examination that ran through Eternity’s Pillar, that feeling of reset following a string of disparate feeling records in the 2010s. Sunn O))) releasing a self-titled record at this stage is itself surely a sign of reflection on behalf of the duo, but if you judged the new album solely by “XXANN,” you’d probably expect a very linear trajectory in the tracklist to follow. And while, yeah, there are lulls in the album—”Everett Moses” in particular doesn’t accomplish much that isn’t done better elsewhere on the record, and is slotted awkwardly before the big finale of “Glory Black,” which I’ll sing the praises of later on—it overall does a solid job at establishing the start of a considered, plotted journey, a track that feels more significant on a second listen.

In comparison to the opener, the deliberate menace of “Does Anyone Here Like Venom?” feels much more like the band two decades ago. It’s a shorter, more obviously-intentioned track with much more force and purpose behind its guitars compared to “XXANN.” With its vague gesticulations towards lead guitar flair and its more sinister tone, it sounds almost youthful in a way, like you’re seeing a glimpse into Sunn O))) as a garage band. Even the title sounds like a bunch of teenagers trying to decide on what they want to sound like before their first band practice. The string bends throughout are like soured interpretations of “One Hundred Years” by The Cure, adding this weirdly gothic glimmer to the track.

“Butch’s Guns” has this fake-out little intro that seems almost like a shrug, a releasing of tension in the room after “Does Anyone Here Like Venom?” and its threatening sound. It’s always comical to talk about a band like Sunn O))) on a website like this and act like a 5-second respite from long-form drone is a crazy development, but as the introduction to this track it’s a portent to a much riffier—a term here used with pronounced relativity—song as a whole. “Butch’s Guns” is probably the closest you’ll hear to a “lick” on the album, with some of the guitar work sounding like something approximating a live Bill Orcutt track that’s been trapped and submerged in quicksand. The sheer thickness of the drone is underlined with persistent, shrill wails of feedback near the end of song, leaving “Butch’s Guns” as an oddly confrontational track in the Sunn O))) catalog. It seems wrong to call it violent, but taken in context, it’s definitely them at their most conventionally “heavy,” especially in comparison to what’s coming later on the album.

“Mindrolling” introduces itself with this panning, tremolo low-end that belches the main progression out in a panic that you would never really associate with a band like Sunn O))). There’ve always been occasional moments of panic in their discography—I’m thinking back to parts of “Big Church” off Monoliths And Dimensions that jolted the track back to life like a defibrillator—but “Mindrolling” is defined by this thick layer of fuzz that rumbles in the distance and gives the guitar a subtle trilling sound which makes for a weirdly percussive element in a song like this. That the song is both introduced and closed out with the sound of running water highlights a taste for naturalism that runs through a lot of the band’s recent work. The duo commented on this, and it’s not hard to imagine that the Washington landscape they recorded near in Bear Creek Studios offered a lot of that inspiration, with O’Malley and Anderson respectively commenting:

“We could go hiking and be out in the woods, spend time outdoors. That became a big part of it”

“There was no stress, no worry about the timeline or anything like that. We just let ourselves go, and let the music come out”

It’s not hard to see how that environment and outlook helped engender a more naturalistic sound in the recording process. Whether it be sobriety, age, nature, or something else, Sunn O))) feels like a distinctly more colourful band in 2026—not radically so, but if newer Sunn O))) is represented here through its Rothko artwork, older Sunn O))) was Pierre Soulages, where stark shades of black have given way to sharp, contrasting colours.

A lot of the album is solid, but nothing really rises above the centre-line until we get to the closing track “Glory Black.” After an album seemingly more informed by totalist minimalism than Black Sabbath, “Glory Black” has the most discernible, conventional guitar riff on the album, like the master tape recording of a Belzebong bassline, stretched and stripped to its fundamentals. But then the guitars break, and you’re left with the threat of feedback in the background of some melancholic piano. It’s a section that brings to mind, of all things, the Endless Humiliation record by The Gerogerigegege. It kind of fully cements the naturalism teased elsewhere on the record; as for all the studio trickery and distortion, “Glory Black” feels like it could have just sprung up from the soil. It has this tremendous weight and weirdly indistinct emotional quality to it, and on re-listens I’m just as unsure of its purpose and intent. For whatever naysayers exist after three decades, this is probably the point at which the “Sunn O))) aren’t even a metal band” bullshit might start to hold water. It’s still tangibly metal, obviously, in its sound, aesthetics, and sensibilities, but if the next album sounds like Glenn Branca played over field recorded insect noises, I kind of wouldn’t be surprised.

While it doesn’t reach the heights of Black One or Domkirke, with their new record Sunn O))) feel like they have a momentum behind them they haven’t had in 15 years. After a decade that was occasionally beset by creative uncertainty and unsuccessful experiments, Sunn O))) finally feel like they’ve tapped into something that has freshened their sound and emboldened their direction, and at 25+ years plus onwards from The Grimmrobe Demos, that’s no easy feat.

3.5/5 Flaming Toilets ov Hell

Sunn O))) is out now on Sub-Pop.