Choosing To Die: KULK’s 25-Minute Doom Tantrum That Weirdly Works

Choosing To Die is a fiercely direct album by KULK that blends doom metal, noise, and punk into a relentless sonic assault, challenging the norms of the UK underground scene.

Choosing To Die is KULK at their most blunt: nine tracks, no clean air, and a doom/noise pivot that acts like it’s late for something.

A record that doesn’t “welcome you” — it grabs your collar

Some albums ease you in. Choosing To Die doesn’t. It starts like KULK are offended you expected an intro at all, and that attitude ends up being the whole point.

KULK have always sounded like a band built out of bad sleep and good amps, but this time the misery shows up with a stopwatch and a switchblade.

Who KULK are here, and what they’re clearly trying to prove

KULK aren’t new, but they’ve been operating like a local rumor since their first album back in 2020—lurking in the overlap of doom metal, sludge, noise rock, and drone, then crawling onto bills next to names that make sense for them: Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, Crowbar, Melt-Banana, Conan. That’s the ecosystem. Loud rooms. Stiff drinks. Little patience.

On Choosing To Die, the duo—Thom Longdin (guitar/vocals) and Jade Ashleigh Squires (drums/synth)—push deeper into the same ugly foundation, but with a new emphasis: they don’t just want heaviness. They want impact. There’s a difference. Heaviness sits there. Impact moves.

And yeah, I’m making a claim: this album isn’t trying to be “their most complete statement.” It’s trying to be the one that raises the bar, not only for their own catalog but for the UK doom/noise underground that sometimes confuses “longer” with “harder.”

“An Endless Knife” is the mission statement: fast, fuzzy, and mean about it

Here’s the first surprise: “An Endless Knife” doesn’t do the slow-creep doom thing first. It just throws a two-and-a-half-minute blast straight at your face—fuzz, feedback, and drums that punch like they’re trying to dent concrete.

I thought the speed would feel like a cheap trick at first, like they were rushing because they didn’t have enough ideas. But by the end of the track it clicked: the rush is the idea. This opener is KULK saying, “We can do atmosphere, sure, but we’re not here to decorate your sadness. We’re here to ruin your hearing.”

It’s not subtle. It’s not graceful. It’s a statement of intent—and honestly it’s a little gatekeep-y, like it’s designed to scare off anyone who needs their distortion to be “tasteful.” A reasonable listener could argue it’s too much too soon. I’d argue that’s the point.

The pacing is the real shock: nine tracks, barely over 25 minutes

The rest of Choosing To Die moves like it’s trying to outrun its own reverb tail. Nine tracks take up just over twenty-five minutes, and that changes everything about how the album hits.

Earlier KULK material had time to seep. This one snaps. It leans closer to sneering noise punk than the harsh, synth-driven ambience of their debut. The album doesn’t “build and release tension” so much as it refuses to participate in that whole polite arc.

That choice is risky. Sometimes a band going shorter is code for “we cut the interesting parts.” Here, it feels more like discipline—like they finally got tired of the doom scene’s habit of treating a 7-minute runtime as a moral virtue.

“We’re Worried About You” and “To Take Life” don’t build tension — they skip it

“We’re Worried About You” and “To Take Life” are the clearest examples of what KULK are doing on this record: they thunder past without caring whether you’re ready.

There’s almost no traditional “here comes the part” signaling. They don’t bother stretching the dread out. They just shatter bones and eardrums and keep moving.

An arguable take: these songs are basically KULK proving they can do the getting-stuck-in version of heaviness, not just the slow-cooked kind. If you love doom primarily for the long inhale before the hit, you might miss that inhale here. I did, briefly. Then I noticed I wasn’t bored for even ten seconds, which is… not always true with doom records, even the ones I like.

They didn’t abandon doom — the slow tracks are nastier and more varied

Here’s where the album gets sneaky. Even though it leans fast and heavy, KULK haven’t ditched their doomy roots. If anything, the slower material on Choosing To Die feels more diverse and—this is the right word—more savage.

Tracks like:

• “Being Forgotten”
• “For Blood”
• “Ache” (just over five minutes long, which is practically a progressive epic by KULK standards)

…sink back into low-slung riffs and expressive synth work. It’s the sound of something big dragging itself across a dirty floor. The guitars don’t just distort; they rot. The synths don’t “add texture”; they act like a sickly light flickering in a basement corner.

I’m not totally sure the album always knows which lane it wants more—punk-forward pummel or slow-drag dread—but the friction between those modes is what makes it memorable. A lot of bands blend genres by sanding off the edges. KULK blend by stacking the edges and letting you fall onto them.

“Ache” is long for them, and it uses that time like a weapon

“Ache” being over five minutes is funny in a calm way—like watching someone known for sprinting decide to jog, but only so they can make the jog feel like punishment.

This is where the doom side flexes: riffs that feel low and heavy without being lazy, synth lines that don’t float so much as loom, and a general sense that the song is dragging you somewhere you didn’t agree to go.

An arguable statement: “Ache” is the track that proves KULK aren’t just blasting for the sake of volume—they’re arranging these sounds to corner you. If you disagree, you’ll probably say it’s just noise and repetition. If you agree, you’ll hear how the repetition is the trap.

One mild problem: the album can feel allergic to breathing room

I like the no-mercy approach, but I’ll admit the part that lost me for a moment is how the record rarely gives you even a second of distortion-free calm. That’s brave, sure. It’s also slightly one-note in terms of dynamic air, even when the tempos change.

Not “bad.” Just… fatiguing in the way a great stink can still be a stink.

That said, the album’s commitment is also its strength. It doesn’t flirt with accessibility. It doesn’t do the thing where a heavy band tosses in a clean interlude to prove they’re “musical.” KULK keep the listener inside the blast radius the whole time, and I respect the stubbornness even when my ears don’t.

What KULK are actually doing: stitching punk speed to doom weight

By the end, what lands isn’t just that KULK can do fast songs now. It’s that they combine rapid, feedback-driven riffs with steadier walls of sound without letting the seams show.

This album feels like KULK raising their own standard: less meandering, more direct, and still miserable in that specific way that’s more ferocious than theatrical. If you like your music fuzzy, wide-ranging, and generally willing to tear up your eardrums, this is the record where KULK stop being a “band you should check out” and start sounding like a problem other bands have to solve.

And yeah, I’m saying it: Choosing To Die acts like it wants to outdo not only KULK’s earlier work, but the wider doom/noise underground’s tolerance for patience-as-a-personality.

Artwork + release info (because the packaging matters)

Choosing To Die is out now via Church Road Records.

If you want to keep up with KULK directly, they’re on Facebook (no need to dress it up more than that).

Also: if I had to put a blunt number on how effectively this album does what it’s trying to do, I land at 7/10—mainly because the relentless approach is the whole thrill and the main limitation, depending on your tolerance for being sonically sandblasted.

Conclusion

Choosing To Die doesn’t try to be comforting, clever, or even particularly patient. It tries to be decisive: fast when it wants to wound, slow when it wants to crush, and loud at all times because silence would ruin the mood.

Our verdict: People who like doom that stops brooding and starts swinging will actually love this album—especially anyone with a soft spot for noise punk’s bad manners. People who want slow-build atmosphere with lots of negative space will not; they’ll feel like KULK stole the “pause” button and threw it in a river.

FAQ

• What is the core vibe of Choosing To Die?
  It’s doom, sludge, noise rock, and drone pushed into a tighter, faster shape—less slow ritual, more blunt-force sprint.
• How long is the album and why does it matter?
  Nine tracks in a little over 25 minutes. It matters because KULK’s heaviness hits like a series of direct punches instead of long, winding pressure.
• Which tracks show the “faster” KULK approach best?
  “An Endless Knife,” “We’re Worried About You,” and “To Take Life” are the ones that barrel through without the usual doom buildup.
• Do the slower tracks still feel like KULK?
  Yes—“Being Forgotten,” “For Blood,” and “Ache” lean into low riffs and synth creep, and arguably show their most varied ugly side.
• Is this album for someone who doesn’t like noise?
  Probably not. The record is proudly fuzzed-out and rarely gives your ears a clean place to stand.

If you’re the type who treats album art like part of the listening experience, you can always grab a favorite album-cover poster over at our shop: https://www.architeg-prints.com/ — it fits the whole “hang the obsession on the wall” habit.