There’s nothing tentative about Tranquilized. From the first throb of low-end, M.E.L.T. drag the listener into a spiral that feels equal parts ritual and riot. The Pittsburgh psych-rock trio lean into their heaviest instincts here, stitching colossal riffs and molten bass into a structure that collapses, rebuilds, and surges forward like a living organism.
It’s a track that refuses stasis. One moment grinds with Sabbath-sized weight, the next accelerates into frantic bursts, only to dissolve back into its hypnotic haze. That volatility becomes the very point, the sound of a cycle pushing toward overload, where exhilaration flips into surrender. Bassist James May throws jagged punches beneath the storm, while Joey Troupe’s guitar tone claws at the edges of distortion, as if daring the speakers to split.
The vocals, carried by both Troupe and drummer J.J. Young, carve a surprising path through the density. Their raw partnership unlocks something freeing, almost reckless, that cuts across the chaos and makes the release feel bigger than its parts. The chorus doesn’t just land: it detonates, and suddenly you’re in it, moving, head thrown back, body pulled by forces you didn’t intend to follow.
Tranquilized by M.E.L.T. is less a single than a turning point. It bridges the inward reflection of Innervate/Obliterate’s first half with the record’s plunge into outward destruction, making it both a conceptual hinge and a sonic peak. It’s a track you don’t simply listen to: you get swept under, crushed, and strangely lifted.
