HAIDUK's “Archdevil” Features Good Death Metal with GREAT Lore

“… instrumentation, while excellent on its own, doesn’t always differentiate these demons…”

There’s a special kind of frustration reserved for when a concept absolutely rips… but the music doesn’t quite keep up with how cool it sounds on paper. Enter Haiduk and his fifth studio album, Archdevil — a 34-minute descent into a dark fantasy realm so detailed you half expect a map and a tabletop campaign guide to fall out of the CD case.

Archdevil continues the saga of Haiduk’s fictional world of “Callost,” revisiting nine demons first introduced on 2015’s Demonicon and adding two more. And I’m not kidding when I say the lore is fascinating with awesome characters!

Did you know there’s a demon lord named Xhadex? He’s a shapeshifting serpent demon lord weaving illusions and tapping into interdimensional forces.

How about a demon called Vordus? He’s a GOD DAMN MIND CONTROLLING WIZARD! (You’re a wizard, Vordus!)

Speaking of wizards, a demon lord called Nazon, who works with “cosmic magic”, tried to conquer and destroy a human city but couldn’t. So, he rolled a nat-20 in “fuck you magic” and dropped a giant space rock on them like the true Chad he is.

This is metal D&D nonsense in the best possible way. The characters are vivid, over-the-top, and dripping with potential for musical storytelling.

Okay, but concept aside for a moment. How is the music on Archdevil?

Let’s start with the vocals. Instead of the usual guttural death metal “burp from the abyss,” the delivery often sounds more like a sinister whisper layered over the chaos. It’s not bad — in fact, it works in this context — but it’s not my personal favorite approach. It adds an eerie vibe, though, which fits the demonic theme.

The lyrics themselves are very minimal. Sometimes they say very little. Sometimes minimalism is just enough. Honestly, they feel like they exist primarily to serve the world-building rather than stand alone as poetic centerpieces. With fewer lyrics, the bulk of the album as a result leans heavily on the instrumentation to carry the experience.

Thankfully, Archdevil’s instrumentation is a relentless barrage. The guitars are ripping at a near-constant speed — a vicious hybrid where blackened fury collides with death metal precision. The melodies, whether in rhythm or lead, are dark and sinister, perfectly matching the demonic subject matter.

The drums? Stamina for days. Very few breaks. Not overly flashy, but packed with solid fills and an impressive endurance run that barely lets the listener breathe. It’s the kind of performance that makes you tired just listening to it.

As the album progresses, the riff styles do begin to shift to help tell the listener they’re listening to a different song. You get different flavors of speed and brutality, and that helps keep the record from feeling completely one-note. Instrumentally, it absolutely rips. No argument there.

Here’s my main hang-up… The lore is so cool. But the compositions don’t always reflect the individuality of the characters they’re depicting.

Take “Infester,” which represents Sarxas — a gargantuan beast. Knowing who was coming, I braced myself for something slower. Something crushing. Doom-laced. Massive. A musical representation of sheer size and weight.

Instead? Rapid-fire death metal. Just like most of the album.

And that’s the recurring issue. The instrumentation, while excellent on its own, doesn’t always differentiate these demons in a way that tells their individual stories. If you stripped the lyrics away, you wouldn’t necessarily know you were jumping from a cosmic sorcerer to a serpent lord to a mind-controlling wizard to a fucking earthquake daddy, etc.. The songs blur together stylistically.

I get it. Not everyone can channel full-on cinematic musical storytelling à la Howard Shore and craft distinct musical identities for every villain. But when your concept is this rich, you kind of want the music to reflect the characters—at least a little bit.

Instead, what you get is a very solid slab of evil-sounding death metal that sometimes suffers from a classic genre problem: too much of a good thing. Constant speed. Constant aggression. Constant blast. It’s impressive. It’s tight. It’s dark. It just doesn’t always feel as grand as its mythology.

Overall, if you’re looking for a 34-minute barrage of sinister, blackened death metal that doesn’t let up, Haiduk’s Archdevil is an easy recommendation. Instrumentally, it’s strong. The atmosphere is oppressive in all the right ways. The stamina and precision are undeniable.

But when your fantasy world is this imaginative, I can’t help wishing the music told the story more clearly — that each demon felt musically distinct rather than thematically labeled.

Still, credit where it’s due: the world-building rules. The riffs rip. The demons are cool as hell.

10/15

… because the Necrifier on track 10 threatened to resurrect my hamster “Squeakers” if I didn’t shout him out. Please don’t, Deamris. That rodent was a menace.