You can hear originality just as much as you can see it.

Excide eclipse the constraints of era, genre, and vibe, blurring the lines between basement-born hardcore, fuzzed-out nineties alternative, and future-facing rock. Galvanized by an instinctual inclination towards unpredictability, they never compromise pit-splitting intensity for rafter-reaching melody, opting to effortlessly co-mingle both instead. As such, they make heavy music with the potential to reach the masses without pandering.

Now, the Carolina-bred quintet—Tyler Washington, Gill Gonzalez, Gage Lanza, Caleb Hogue, and Jacob Paris—leap forward again on their second full-length offering and Sharptone Records debut LP, Bastard Hymns II.

“We put ourselves out there as much as possible, so likeminded people will hopefully hear it, see it, and feel it,” notes Tyler. “If you listen to this, I hope you find the confidence to be original and take a leap of faith in whatever you do.”

During 2020, Excide initially introduced a boundary-breaking signature style gestated across projects such as Two of a Kind and Actualize / Radiation Reel. Two years later, momentum picked up on the heels of their independent full-length debut, Deliberate Revolver, which incited the applause of Brooklyn Vegan, Revolver, and more. They caught the attention of Sharptone Records and inked a deal with the label. In 2024, their next era ramped up in earnest with the two-pack Humdinger, including “Dis(re)member” and “All Down (But 9).” Right away, Stereogum raved, “Both of its tracks go hard,” and NO ECHO marveled at how “the band’s dynamic blend of ‘90s-flavored hardcore and propulsive post-hardcore rhythms has shined brightly on each of their releases.”

Between incessant touring, the musicians recorded what would become Bastard Hymns II at Tyler’s Down Under studio in Wilmington, DE with producer Austin Coupe [Citizen, nothing,nowhere., Moodring]. Throughout the process, they mined influences as diverse as Failure, Cave In, Snapcase, and Queens of the Stone Age. Tyler even culled inspiration from classic western flicks.

“If you smashed rhythmic hardcore in the vein of Cast Iron Hike together with 2000s post-grunge, it might resemble what we’re doing,” he goes on. “The album carries hints of everywhere we’ve been, and we’re smack dab in the center of our inspirations. There are weird elements, but there are much bigger moments too. Over time, we progressed, adapted, and changed as our palette expanded. The number one goal is to always find our own way.”

They most definitely do so on the lead single “Your Flowers.” During the verses, the vocalist’s screams pierce through a punchy beat awash in rough waves of distortion. A disarmingly chantable chorus crashes into a bold bassline pierced by the cries of wah-drenched lead guitar.

“‘Your Flowers’ is a dig at the music industry itself,” he says. “It’s directed at how people transactionally treat music. You can spend all of your time putting your heart and soul into your art, and the business just views it as a commodity that can be traded or bargained. You’re never getting your flowers, and that’s the premise.”

Feedback gives way to ominous riffing and furious drumming on “Worth Your Salt.” Tyler warns, “If you’re so divine, you’ll learn how to swim,” only for his softly-sung words to slip into the undertow of choppy six-string squeals.

“We live in a time where everything seems based on nostalgia,” he muses. “So many acts will simply find an old band who was special, try to copy them, and make it look like they didn’t. Or, they just blatantly rip off another artist’s sound on purpose. ‘Worth Your Salt’ is a wish for bands to take less literal influence and capture a feeling more so.”
Then, there’s “Pariah.” The acoustic intro turns on a dime into a trudging groove as the vocals barely crack a whisper. A guttural bridge breaks under the weight of Tyler’s towering sky-high hook.

“Musically, there’s more of a rock vibe,” he notes. “It perfectly bridges the gap between our heavier and softer material. In terms of the lyrics, it’s about feeling like a loser growing up. I’ve lived with this impostor syndrome for my whole life, and I still carry it. It’s probably a result of not ever fitting in as a kid.”

The finale “Call Box” slams down an incendiary bookend to the album propelled by a stomping bounce, pinch harmonics, frenetic soloing, and an emotionally charged refrain.

“It addresses how parents, family, or friends think they can simply pick up the phone, call you, half-ass apologize, and you’ll always forgive them,” he elaborates. “Regardless of how they act, they believe they have a permanent place in your life. The songs makes it very apparent this isn’t the case. It basically says, ‘You think you have a place in my life because of blood, but you don’t’. ‘Call Box’ cuts the cord.”

Ultimately, Excide make an authentically original statement by simply being who they are.

“When you take a risk, it either pays off or it doesn’t,” he leaves off. “No matter what, it’s definitely worthwhile though. There are so many deep cut gems out there because of those artists who were willing to risk it all. I hope you walk away from the album inspired to take a chance and do more. You never know what might happen.”