Catharsis – Hope against Hope

On August 1st, 1999, Catharsis, the mythical hardcore music collective from North Carolina, released their seminal second full-length, Passion. Two years later to the day, they offered up the chilling nine-minute manifesto “Arsonist’s Prayer” on their split with Newborn. Since then, the band had remained silent, save for sporadic reunions from 2013 onward with Jimmy Chang (Sect, Undying) rejoining the fold, alongside the unceasing political activity of CrimethInc. Fast forward to August 1st, 2025: without warning, Catharsis re-emerged with their long-awaited third full-length, Hope against Hope, a record that immediately reignites the conversation around their legacy.

Catharsis released a new record.

And yet, life has led them to once again position themselves artistically, and consequently, politically. As they explained in the accompanying text, many of the songs on the album had been in development for two decades, with Hope against Hope ultimately carrying within it the evolution and journey of the musicians who created it over the 24 years that have passed. As a result, it bears in its aura—bursting forth like a flare in the night sky of resignation and compromise—the attempt of Catharsis to situate themselves in today’s socio-political and musical context of DIY music. So, is Hope against Hope a flicker of memory from an incorruptible past, or the spark of an invisible, ongoing fire?

And my heart beats harder
And my breath comes faster
As we ride again
Into disaster

From the very first listen, two things stand out. The production allows the album to shine with clarity and weight, giving their 2025 sound a fresh edge while retaining the grit of their origins. Musically, the record feels closer to Samsara (1997) and the monumental Requiem (a band formed by Catharsis members) album Storm Heaven (2005) than to the experimental scope of Passion. The result is a searing metallic hardcore assault infused with neocrust intensity: uncompromising, direct, and emotionally charged. This rejection of the experimental path of Passion is striking, also reflected in the cover of Hope against Hope, which composes a black-and-red canvas of contradictions, struggle, curse, despair, and hope.

Lyrically and thematically, Hope against Hope embodies this struggle, wrestling with conflict and resilience. The experience of the musicians, distilled from their long journey, pushes them to seek light in the ruins. The words are more immediate, less cloaked in metaphor, but still strike with poetic force. Tracks like “Power,” featuring Gosia (Mind Pollution, Next Victim, Dyym, Sorrow), channel an uncompromising urgency that makes the heart leap despite the simplicity of the message. Elsewhere, “Gone to Croatan” stands out as a likely song of the year, weaving Zach’s (Requiem) violin into a haunting atmosphere where resistance to colonialism becomes both allegory and necessity in a world paralyzed by ongoing genocides.

What flourishes beneath the pavement is nothing less than their most grandiose and atmospheric record to date, rooted in the broader incorporation of neocrust elements. Unsurprisingly, my approach is not only charged but overwhelmed by the romanticism of seeing my musical heroes believing that what they have to say today is nothing more than a simple message of solidarity. That failures, false hopes, fleeting victories, and seemingly eternal condemnations can be overturned with a single heartbeat, a single blink. Catharsis did not choose the preaching of experience or the articulation of systematic critique, as prophets after the fall. These psychological descents are necessary so that the decomposition left behind may allow true hope, the tried hope of the trenches of class struggle and despair, may emerge.

And you will
Fight
Also against yourself
But don’t lose heart
Not one step backward on your path

In the same spirit, “Eremocene” clearly demonstrates the compositional perception of a band that may no longer take the risks that made it legendary, but can, even through a simple yet effective bass line, make you taste their identity. The second half of “Embers” allows its opening intensity to take root in the mind, unveiling a hidden spasmic riff of sheer intensity. And then there’s “We Live,” a track that under other circumstances might have seemed just another high-quality dark crust composition, another metallic hardcore manifesto. Yet the way its guitar theme soars skyward, the repetition of the lyrics by Brian as mantra, and the backing vocals from Gosia, Fred (Point of No Return), Red (Scarecrow), and Sebastian (Vittna), turn its message of life as an answer to every question into something that strikes me with the force of Roger Robinson’s poetry.

So what defines the imprint of Hope against Hope? Is it the context, the personal connection, the musical integrity of these seven compositions, or the weight of the name? This past August, the return of Catharsis musically accompanied my reading of Francisco Álvarez’s novel August Rain (Lluvia d’agostu). In a passage of the book, which deals with the final years and the enigma surrounding the death of “mythical” anarchist Buenaventura Durruti through the investigation of a journalist, a character addressing the revolutionaries declares: “You are like the August rain, a deceptive promise of coolness where the air burns the most.” A thought I connected directly to the album.

The same revolution cannot happen twice; the past does not return. The brief relief brought by a voice from the past contains not a promise, but an act of solidarity. And this, even if temporary or imperfect, bears the weight of the moment. Small drops such as these are capable of reaching deep into the soil. The return of Catharsis is a fact, and though the shadow of the past and the contradictions of the present surround it, and although it was clear that its impact would not equal their legacy nor fill any (nonexistent—the global scene is boiling) void in revolutionary DIY art today, the passion, the sheer musical force, and the stubborn drive are more than enough to make it stand out not only as one of the releases of the year, but as one of its defining events.

Catharsis released a new record. It is neither an illusion nor a deceptive promise. It is real, and it is beautiful.

But like a seed in the dirt, like a root in the earth
I am alive in my grave
Like a ghost from the tomb, like a child from the womb
Come what will, come what may
We’ll live to see another day

A Greek version of the review was published in Rocking.gr. Catharsis will be touring Europe with ten shows in October, don’t miss the chance to see them.