Not Midnight Yet Review: Phantom’s Coffin Riffs Won’t Behave (Sorry)

Not Midnight Yet turns old-school speed/thrash into a haunted-house sprint—organ stabs, tyrant riffs, and a 56-minute refusal to shut up.

You don’t “play” this album—you get chased by it

I put on Not Midnight Yet expecting a familiar throwback flex. What I got instead was Phantom acting like the rules of speed/thrash are a polite suggestion, then laughing while they set the suggestion on fire.

This record isn’t trying to modernize anything. It’s trying to possess something.

Phantom’s real trick: they cosplay the ’80s, then quietly sabotage it

Phantom sound like the unholy accident that happens when classic thrash DNA gets injected with speed metal caffeine and a taste for dramatic lighting. The easy comparison is “old-school heavy metal,” and yeah, that’s the spine. But the point isn’t nostalgia—it’s control. The band keeps yanking the mood from “heads-down riffing” into “wait, why is there an organ?” and somehow it doesn’t feel like a gimmick.

At least, it doesn’t feel like a gimmick once you accept what the album is actually doing: it’s building a little horror set and forcing thrash to perform inside it.

And I’m not completely sure the band even cares if you think it’s too much. That might be the best part.

“The soul and core of what PHANTOM stands for is old school heavy metal… This record puts together very well everything that we are.” — J.C. García

That’s the mission statement, but the sound of it is less “carefully curated tribute” and more “locked crypt door swinging open.”

That first organ note is a jump-scare, and Phantom knows it

The album opens with an organ tone that made me genuinely pause—like, hold on, did I click the wrong thing? For half a second, I wondered if I’d stumbled into some theater-stage gothic intro that would disappear as soon as the “real” metal arrived.

Then the real metal arrived… and it arrived like a rabid swarm.

“Horde Of Bats” is the thesis: fast, feral, and weirdly theatrical

“Horde Of Bats” doesn’t ease you in. It ambushes you with riff-driven frenzy and makes a point of it for a full five-and-a-half minutes. This is where Phantom basically announce: we’re young, we’re nasty, and we’re not trimming the fat just because the genre usually does.

A reasonable listener could argue the band is showing off too hard right away. I get it. But I think that’s intentional—Phantom want the opener to function like a shove into a dark hallway. Once you’re running, you’ll accept anything.

The riffs don’t just slash—they swirl, like they’re enjoying themselves

After the initial hit, the album starts showing its personality in motion instead of just speed.

“Out Of The Mausoleum” snarls, but it’s got swagger

The riffs in “Out Of The Mausoleum” aren’t only about velocity—they’ve got this snarling charisma, like the guitar is smirking while it runs. That matters, because pure speed metal can turn into a straight line if the band doesn’t bend it.

Phantom bend it constantly. The result is that the riffs feel like they’re spinning around you, not just charging forward. If you’re the type who wants your thrash to stay “tough” and not “playful,” you might call this indulgent. I’d call it the reason the album breathes.

“Dracula’s Curse” brings the organ back—and somehow it’s not corny

When the organ returns in “Dracula’s Curse,” it doesn’t read like a Halloween decoration stapled on top. It adds this whimsical macabre texture—like the band is letting the room get colder on purpose.

That said, I’ll admit something: on first listen, I flinched at the theatrics. I thought, okay, is this going to turn into a novelty act?
But by the time the track locks into its relentless thrash hustle, I had to revise that reaction. The organ isn’t a punchline. It’s a world-building tool, and Phantom keep it just sharp enough that it feels like a threat, not a joke.

If anything, the band is daring you to call it cheesy—then drowning you in riffs before you can finish the sentence.

“Summoned To Kill” is where the vocals start acting unhinged (compliment)

“Summoned To Kill” slams on the throttle and then keeps pushing. The vocal approach jumps between breathy growls and high, sharp shrieks—there’s a classic thrash lineage in that, and it lands like someone screaming directions while surfing a wave of speed metal.

Here’s the arguable claim: the vocals are purposely a little exaggerated to make the songs feel dangerous again.
Not “perfect.” Not “clean.” Dangerous.

If you want polished modern bite, this won’t be your thing. Phantom sound like they’d rather risk sounding feral than risk sounding safe.

The title track is peak Phantom: laughter, solos, and a blade-to-the-ear finish

By the time the album hits “Not Midnight Yet,” Phantom are deep into their own spell. You’re just as likely to hear maniacal laughter as you are a soaring solo, and the title track is where that combination feels most “possessed.”

J.C. García’s guitar work screeches in and out, not in a random way, but like it’s trying to climb the walls. There’s a solo near the end that honestly feels like it wants to slice skin off—not because it’s technical gymnastics (though it can be), but because it’s mean about it.

Someone could argue the song is doing too much. I’d argue that’s the whole point: Phantom are stuffing their coffin until the lid won’t close.

That acoustic intro is Phantom basically heckling the genre

Then Phantom pull a move that speed/thrash bands love to pretend they’re too tough to do: they count it off—“Uno, dos, tres, quatro”—and drop into an acoustic intro that’s genuinely haunting.

This is where I got a little annoyed, and I mean that affectionately. Because the band knows exactly what reaction they’re provoking: what are you doing here? Acoustic? In my speed metal?

“Curse Your Name” flips from eerie to bouncing, and it shouldn’t work

“Curse Your Name” morphs into this bouncing battle of shouts and wails, threaded with melodic flair that nods toward classic heavy metal melodicism. The song feels lively in a way a lot of modern thrash refuses to be—as if “fun” is illegal.

Here’s my mild criticism: the transition can feel almost too theatrical, like Phantom are flirting with melodrama just because they can.
But the payoff is that the track doesn’t flatten into one mood. It stays animated, like it’s throwing elbows in a crowded room.

If you hate when bands “break the formula,” this album will irritate you. Phantom break formulas like it’s a hobby.

56 minutes is a flex, and Phantom want you to notice

A lot of speed and thrash records hover around the 40-minute mark because it’s efficient: hit hard, leave no bruises unpunched, get out. Not Midnight Yet stretches to a juicy 56 minutes, and Phantom don’t apologize for it. They plant a knee-high leather boot on the genre’s average runtime and stomp.

And yes—someone could argue the album could be tightened. I can see that argument. There are moments where the band seems so excited to keep playing inside their haunted-house set that they linger longer than a pure efficiency-minded listener might want.

But I think the length is part of the album’s intent: this is a “vampire feast” record, not a quick kill. Phantom want you to stay in the room until your ears adjust to the darkness.

By “Echoes From The Fights,” the album feels like it’s slamming the table

When “Echoes From The Fights” hits, it lands like fists on a table—less about surprise and more about dominance. At this point, the record has already toured you through majestic, skeletal, cursed spaces, and the closing stretch feels like Phantom making sure you don’t forget who’s running the show.

I kept waiting for the album to lose steam—56 minutes is plenty of time for adrenaline to leak out—but it doesn’t really collapse. It just keeps insisting.

And that’s the lasting thought the record leaves me with: I don’t want midnight to come, because the last thing I want is for this band to turn into a pumpkin right when they’ve figured out how to sound like a horror film that also punches you in the mouth.

Album art

Release details (because timing matters with albums like this)

Not Midnight Yet is set for release on June 26 via High Roller Records.

Phantom are also on Facebook here (if you want the updates straight from the source):
https://www.facebook.com/people/Phantom-speed-metal/61583939232552/

Where I land on it

If I’m putting a number on it the way people like to do, I land around 9/10—mostly because Phantom manage to sound reverent without sounding trapped, and theatrical without becoming a costume party.

Conclusion

Not Midnight Yet doesn’t just revive old-school speed/thrash—it messes with it, decorates it with cobwebs, and then sprints down the hallway daring you to keep up. It’s a record that treats atmosphere like a weapon, not wallpaper, and it keeps swinging until you either surrender or hit stop.

Our verdict: People who actually like Not Midnight Yet are the ones who want thrash to feel a little unsafe and a little dramatic—like the band might knock over the candles mid-ritual. People who won’t like it are the strict minimalists who think organs, laughter, or acoustic intros are “extra.” Phantom are extra on purpose. You’ve been warned.

FAQ

• What is the core vibe of Not Midnight Yet?
  It’s speed/thrash with a horror-theater streak—sharp riffs, sudden atmosphere, and a band that enjoys being a little unhinged.
• Does Not Midnight Yet lean more speed metal or thrash?
  It plays both sides, but the pacing often screams speed metal first—then the thrash bite shows up to finish the job.
• Is the organ actually important, or just decoration?
  It matters. Those organ moments frame the songs like scenes, and the band uses them to yank you into the album’s haunted setting.
• Is the 56-minute runtime too long for this style?
  If you need your thrash lean and ruthless, you might feel it. If you like getting dragged through an extended mood, the length is part of the charm.
• Who should skip Not Midnight Yet?
  Anyone allergic to theatrical choices—especially if you want your metal “serious” in the most humorless way possible.

If this album’s gothic-meets-thrash mood got under your skin, a loud album-cover poster isn’t a bad way to keep the spell going—grab one at our store: https://www.architeg-prints.com