Cruel Face Review: Jungle Rot’s War Album Isn’t Subtle—Good

Cruel Face hits like 40 minutes of blunt-force death metal: groove-first, zero reinvention, and just enough stagnation to feel human.

This record doesn’t “open”—it loads a weapon

Jungle Rot has been doing this for nearly 35 years, and you can hear that kind of longevity in the way Cruel Face Of War refuses to explain itself. This isn’t an album that tries to charm you into liking it. It just shoves a riff in your face and waits for your neck to either cooperate or tap out.

They’re a Wisconsin death metal lifer band, and the whole point is consistency: punchy songs, nasty tone, and that stank-face groove that makes you walk around the house like you’re carrying something heavy for no reason. If you came here hoping for a dramatic reinvention, you’re listening to the wrong band—and honestly, that’s on you.

What Jungle Rot is actually protecting: their own lane

Here’s what I think Jungle Rot is doing on Cruel Face Of War: they’re defending a particular kind of death metal that doesn’t pretend to be philosophical. They don’t chase shiny modern production tricks or progressive detours. They build short, hard-hitting blocks of brutality and stack them into a 40-minute battering ram.

At first, I assumed that would make the album feel predictable in a bad way—like a band coasting. But on second listen, it hit me that predictability is part of the pleasure here. This record isn’t asking “what’s next?” It’s asking “how hard can we make this feel without changing the recipe?”

That’s a very specific kind of stubbornness, and it’s kind of the charm.

The intro is basically paperwork, and then “Apocalyptic Dawn” starts the fight

Let’s not pretend the opening seconds are doing anything vital. The introductory bit feels mostly redundant—like the album clearing its throat. I kept waiting for it to justify itself, and it… doesn’t, really.

But then “Apocalyptic Dawn” kicks in and the whole record snaps into place. In under four minutes, it sets the rules:

• production that feels hefty, like the guitars were recorded inside a concrete room
• riffs that cut clean instead of blurring into mush
• and Dave Matrise doing those familiar gutturals that slice through the mix like he’s done it a thousand times (because he basically has)

This is trademark Jungle Rot: not flashy, not delicate, just direct. If you’ve ever liked this band, you’ll recognize the handshake immediately.

The early run is engineered for whiplash, not nuance

The tight runtime—just over 40 minutes—matters because Cruel Face Of War doesn’t waste punches once it gets moving. The first half especially feels like the band intentionally front-loaded the record with the most immediate damage.

The title track “Cruel Face Of War” is where the groove really starts leaking out of the seams. It “oozes” is the right word—thick, stomping momentum—and there’s a mosh call buried in there that feels purpose-built for a live room. Not subtle. Not clever. Just a big red button labeled MOVE.

Then “Radicalized” goes straight for the jugular: blistering drums, gnarly riffing, and that sense of being pelted rather than persuaded. If you told me the band wrote that track specifically to make people stop overthinking death metal, I’d believe you.

I’m not totally sure every fast moment here is necessary, though. Sometimes speed reads like obligation—like “we should probably floor it here”—instead of a choice that adds something new.

“Maniacal” proves the band knows when to slow down and win

The big early surprise for me is “Maniacal.” It’s one of the strongest tracks on the album because it does the thing heavy bands forget to do: it dials back and gets meaner. The mid-tempo stomp is neck-snappingly catchy, the kind of groove that makes you involuntarily nod even if you’re trying to act above it.

This track is also where the album’s intent becomes obvious: Jungle Rot isn’t trying to overwhelm you with complexity. They’re trying to put your body in time with the riff. When they hit that mark, it sticks.

The second half hits a wall—and that’s the album’s only real issue

After the early barrage, the album starts to blur a bit. Not because the playing gets sloppy or the songwriting collapses—more because that initial ferocity stops landing with the same weight. It’s that classic death metal problem: once you’ve established “we are crushing,” you have to either escalate or reshape, and Jungle Rot mostly just… continues.

To be clear, I’m not saying the back half is bad. It isn’t. But there’s a degree of stagnation that creeps in, where tracks feel more like variations on the same stomp rather than new angles of attack. It’s like watching a tank roll forward for 40 minutes—impressive, but eventually your brain starts looking for a different kind of damage.

And yet, even inside that slight drag, the record still has moments that jab you awake.

“Horrors Vile” brings in David Ingram and suddenly the air changes

Late in the album, “Horrors Vile” lands with a wicked guest appearance from Benediction’s David Ingram. Guest spots can feel like gimmicks, but this one actually works because it doesn’t turn the song into a cameo parade. It feels like a second set of lungs in the room—another voice barking from the same trench.

The interesting part is what it implies: Jungle Rot doesn’t need features to validate them, so when they use one, it reads like choice instead of desperation. The track gets a jolt, and the album briefly regains that “first half” bite.

“Hollow Husk” closes like a grim handshake instead of a grand finale

The closer, “Hollow Husk,” is a devilishly cool way to sign off because it doesn’t pretend the ending should be uplifting or epic. It just ends the way this album lives: heavy, solid, and unconcerned with your emotional resolution.

If you wanted a big cinematic outro, you won’t get it. This is more like the band turning the lights off after the last punch and walking away without checking if you’re okay. I respect that, even if part of me wanted one more truly standout hook to seal it.

Twelve albums in, Jungle Rot isn’t evolving—on purpose

Putting out a 12th studio album after decades is an achievement by itself. But the more telling thing is that the quality stays high without the band doing the usual aging-metal-band tricks: no forced “modernization,” no awkward experiment that sounds like they just discovered a new plugin.

Cruel Face Of War doesn’t offer anything revolutionary, and I genuinely don’t think it’s trying to. This album feels like the band making a very blunt statement:

we’re still here, and we still do this better than most people who try it.

If I had to put a number on how effective it is at what it’s doing, I’d land around a 7/10—not because it’s weak, but because that second-half flattening keeps it from being a full-on obsession.

Release details, minus the ceremony

Cruel Face Of War is out now via Unique Leader Records.

If you want to keep up with the band the straightforward way, they’re on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/igotjunglerot

Conclusion

Cruel Face Of War is Jungle Rot doing what they’ve always done: sharp, brutal death metal with enough stomp to turn your neck into a liability. It doesn’t reinvent anything—and it doesn’t need to—but it does sag a bit after the early onslaught, like the album briefly forgets it has to keep earning your attention.

Our verdict: People who like death metal that grooves and punches first—and philosophizes never—will have a great time here. People who need “growth,” left turns, or novelty will get bored and start checking their email halfway through the second half.

FAQ

• Is “Cruel Face” a different sound for Jungle Rot?
  Not really. It’s Jungle Rot staying in their lane: heavy production, sharp riffs, and groove-driven brutality.
• How long is Cruel Face Of War?
  About 40 minutes, and it mostly uses that runtime efficiently.
• What’s the best place to start on the album?
  “Apocalyptic Dawn” sets the tone immediately, and “Maniacal” shows how well they handle mid-tempo stomp.
• Does the album have any guest vocals?
  Yes—David Ingram from Benediction appears on “Horrors Vile,” and it gives the late stretch a real jolt.
• Is this more about speed or groove?
  Both, but the groove moments (“Cruel Face Of War,” “Maniacal”) are what actually stick in your body after the listen.

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