Solid State Records
Release: 14 November 2025
Line Up:
Mike Hranica – Vocals
Jeremy DePoyster – Guitar, Clean Vocals
Kyle Sipress – Guitar
Jonathan Gering – Keys, Synths, Programming, Percussion
Giuseppe Capolupo – Drums
Mason Nagy – Bass
Tracklist:
That Same Place
Where The Flowers Never Grow
Everybody Knows
So Low
For You
All Out
Ritual
When You’re Gone
The Sky Behind The Rain
The Silence
Eyes
Cure Me
Wave
My Paradise
It happens to everyone, and there’s no shame in it. Despite what moralists preach, human nature is far more complex than simple categories suggest. We all eventually feel the urge to stray from the familiar path. Once that impulse takes root, we face critical questions: Can I live with myself afterward? Will this hurt the people around me? Am I even with the right people, or have I been fooling myself? Why do I crave change? The musicians of The Devil Wears Prada confronted these same questions and reached a definitive conclusion: they didn’t just want to explore new territory—they HAD to.
This American act has long embodied youthful metalcore angst, but with their latest offering “Flowers,” they’ve clearly decided to transplant their aggressive roots into fresh soil—trendy, polished, and subtly infused with pop-rock sensibilities. Two decades in the scene is no joke, so the band opted for an emotional audit: examining their reflection, their legacy, their extensive catalog, and perhaps even their souls. They describe the release as a meditation on “the peaks, valleys, and cost of humanity”—though it’s more than that. According to the band, this is their most intimate work to date. Sure, humanity can be expensive, but thankfully listeners only pay the streaming fee.
To craft the album, The Devil Wears Prada retreated to rural Arkansas, surrounded themselves with nature, producers, and synthesizers, and set out to reimagine their entire career arc. Think corporate team-building retreat, minus the trust falls and drunken revelry—replaced by attempts to reconcile early-era breakdowns with mature sensitivity. External producers entered the picture, which inevitably means some carefully manicured radio-friendly flowers sprouted in the album’s garden. Critics have already expressed outrage, labeling it “the band’s new low.” Our task? Determining whether they’re right, or if this is just typical grumbling from stubborn metalheads.
Musically, “Flowers” is a hybrid assembled like it followed instructions from a Scandinavian minimalism magazine. The band carefully plants atmospheric synths (“That Same Place,” “The Silence,” “Eyes”), then waters them with pop melody. Only occasionally does The Devil Wears Prada remember they once broke necks with riffs, not beauty shots—”All Out” delivers those old-school gut punches. On the opposite end, “Ritual” and “Wave” lean toward industrial meditations on life’s cyclical nature: today you scream into a microphone, tomorrow into your pillow.
Lyrically, the album is honest, sometimes painfully so. On “Where The Flowers Never Grow,” the band admits to internal emptiness despite external success. “Everybody Knows” depicts inner chaos like arguing with yourself in a coffee line. “So Low” captures a modern dilemma: even when things are good, your brain insists they’ll get worse. There are attempts at self-healing (“Cure Me”), reflections on loss (“When You’re Gone”), and almost-romantic sighs (“For You”)—minus rose-colored glasses, presumably shattered back in 2009. The closing “My Paradise” offers an unexpected conclusion: perhaps our “paradise” isn’t some ideal, but simply a place where nobody’s screaming. Most of the time.
Despite its strengths, “Flowers” feels like the band reached for commercial success but forgot it’s a bit late for that. Pop elements often steal the spotlight, leaving listeners confused and slightly betrayed. The lyrics, while emotionally genuine, sometimes present struggles too bluntly. And the numerous co-writers and producers create a sterile sound—like someone pre-wiped the entire album with an antibacterial cloth.
Still, this isn’t a failure, and certainly not “rock bottom.” “Flowers” is a mature, occasionally awkward, but honest step forward… or sideways. An album showing The Devil Wears Prada as they are today: exhausted, reflective, still metallic, but no longer obligated to prove their heaviness to anyone. It’s a beautiful, emotional, occasionally strange musical garden worth examining at least once. Maybe even fertilizing a bit. With manure. Because that’s healthy.
Written by: Shadow Editor
Ratings: 8/10
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