Mono Inc.’s Darkness Delivers Goth Comfort, Not Risks

“…not offensive, but doesn’t have a lot to say. It’s not terrible, but doesn’t have depth…”

Mono Inc. have long been one of Germany’s flagship acts in the gothic rock and gothic metal scenes. Formed in Hamburg back in 2000, the band has carved out a steady career built on dark melodies, dramatic atmospheres, and a willingness to mix rock accessibility with brooding gothic tones. Over the years, they’ve developed a reputation for consistency rather than unpredictability—releasing album after album of dark, melodic anthems that sit comfortably between gothic melancholy and arena-ready rock choruses. Darkness marks their 13th studio album, which already says a lot: very few bands in this genre make it that far without running out of steam.

Mono Inc. has leaned heavily into their image of being the grand architects of moody, shadow-soaked rock, often exploring themes of mortality, fate, and emotional turmoil. With this latest release, Mono Inc. double down on that formula. The question is: does Darkness keep the fire alive, or does it just feel like business as usual?

Instrumentally, Darkness does everything it’s supposed to. The guitars have that rich, resonant crunch that defines gothic metal, but they never feel overbearing or cluttered. The bass is punchy, the drums are steady and full-bodied, and the production has the polish you’d expect from a band this deep into their career. It’s not flashy, but it doesn’t need to be—Mono Inc. clearly know their strengths, and musically the album sits firmly in the “solid and reliable” camp.

The songwriting itself is competent as well. There are choruses here that could easily fill out live venues, with big, sing-along-ready hooks designed to get crowds swaying and chanting. Tracks like “In My Darkness” and “Abendrot” stand out for their accessibility and clear anthemic ambitions. At its best, the album feels like it knows exactly what its audience wants and delivers on that promise with crisp execution

Unfortunately, that’s about it for the praising on my end. While the music is solid, the album doesn’t quite deliver where it really needs to: in energy, depth, and risk-taking. The vocals were the first stumbling block for me. Gothic metal (and even it’s rock counterpart) is supposed to lean into deep, mysterious delivery, but Martin Engler’s voice often comes across less as mysterious and more as lethargic. Instead of sounding commanding or haunting, it feels like he’s perpetually one step away from nodding off mid-verse.

The female vocal harmonies from their drummer Katha Mia, which could have provided a compelling counterpoint, rarely mesh well with Engler’s delivery in my opinion. Instead of enriching the atmosphere, they often feel awkwardly layered, leaving the vocal arrangements sounding mismatched rather than powerful.

But the larger issue with Darkness is that it plays everything so incredibly safe. There’s nothing here that challenges the listener, nothing that pushes the boundaries of goth rock or metal, nothing that risks failure in pursuit of brilliance. The result is an album that feels competent but uninspired, and easily forgettable. It isn’t bad, but it also doesn’t leave much of an impression—like watching a well-rehearsed play where the actors are bored out of their minds.

The album isn’t unlistenable by any means—it’s cleanly produced, tastefully performed, and never outright offensive. But when an album leaves you neither excited nor outraged, that can be even more disappointing.

Overall, Darkness is a tricky album to review precisely because it sits so squarely in the middle ground. It’s not offensive, but doesn’t have a lot to say. It’s not terrible, but doesn’t have depth. It was a safe release, plain and simple.

This is the kind of record that will undoubtedly satisfy die-hard Mono Inc. fans—those who love the band for their consistency and familiar sound will find comfort in Darkness. But for anyone looking for growth, experimentation, or something new from a band thirteen albums deep into their career, this release might come across as disappointingly plain.

As a critic, that plainness is the hardest part. A terrible album at least gives you something to rant about; a brilliant one gives you something to praise. But Darkness sits in that frustrating middle, offering neither highs nor lows, leaving very little to truly sink your teeth into