The artist of the week: Hatred Inherit (Germany)

Alright, death metal maniacs. If you’ve been starving for something that rips hard, gets technical without losing soul, and drips with pure unfiltered aggression, Hatred Inherit just delivered a slab of darkness that hits every nerve. Hatred Inherit is a death metal band hailing from Bottrop, Germany, formed in 2012. Rooted in the dark, aggressive tradition of the genre, they blend relentless old-school brutality with a modern technical edge that cuts deep. Their sound is forged in the fire of bands like Malevolent Creation, Morbid Angel, Dead Congregation, Hate, Immolation, Decapitated, Death, and Thy Art Is Murder. But make no mistake; these guys aren’t just followers, they’ve carved their own path through the chaos.

What sets Hatred Inherit apart is their commitment to pure, uncompromising death metal. Their music features a tight mix of traditional and modern drumming, punishing dissonant riffing, and a gritty underground vibe that doesn’t chase trends. It’s raw, it’s angry, and it’s built for those who like their metal brutal and bloodied.

Over the years, the band has gone through a few lineup shifts, but the core vision stayed intact. The current roster includes:

• Kai – drums

• Stipe – guitars

• Neander – guitars

• Robin – bass

• Henry Mann ( Ex-IMPURE, Ex-ASPHIXATION ).

For studio sessions, vocals on the latest album were handled by Frederico, delivering a monstrous performance that fits their sound like a spiked glove.

After years of grinding through the underground and dealing with the setbacks of the 2020 pandemic (which basically buried their debut release), Hatred Inherit regrouped, reloaded, and came back stronger than ever in 2025 with their second full-length: Void.

There are albums that announce a band’s arrival like a hammer through glass, and there are albums that get tossed into the storm without a chance to make a sound. Hatred Inherit’s self-titled debut, released in 2019, was the latter. Not because it lacked fire, but because it appeared just before the world shut its ears.

That first record came out swinging. From the first track, it felt like an unearthed fossil from a darker era of death metal, not concerned with trends or accessibility, only with force. The production was crusted with grime, the guitars slashed instead of soared, and the drums sounded like they were recorded in a bunker. But underneath the dirt, there was detail. Not just violence for the sake of violence, but a certain intent a vision still forming.

It was the kind of record you stumble onto by accident, spin once out of curiosity, and realize halfway through that you’re not hearing just a local scene effort, you’re hearing a band right on the edge of becoming something dangerous. Then 2020 happened, and that edge got swallowed by silence. No shows. No press. No word of mouth. The record disappeared into the cracks of the internet, where only the most obsessive fans ever found it. But silence, as it turns out, is fertile ground for transformation.

When Hatred Inherit re-emerged in 2025 with Void, the contrast was startling. This wasn’t just a follow-up. It was an overhaul. What once felt like blunt impact now had architecture. The riffs didn’t just chug and churn, they spoke. The production, handled at guitarist Stipe Šimleša’s 3rd Floor Sounds, cut deep without sterilizing the chaos. The drumming, once wild and stormy, now struck like clockwork in a machine built for collapse. Even the vocals, this time delivered by session growler Frederico brought a new dimension. Less pure rage, more control with menace folded into every phrase.

Void sounds like a band that has not only learned how to harness power, but also how to aim it. It’s tighter, more deliberate, and far more immersive. While the debut was built like a battering ram, Void behaves more like a spiral staircase in a burning tower; you’re not just being hit, you’re being drawn downward, deeper, track by track, into something increasingly suffocating. And somewhere near the bottom of that descent, you find “New Gods.”

This is not a single in the traditional sense. It doesn’t explode.. it stalks. The opening riff doesn’t pounce, it creeps across the floor like smoke from a fire you haven’t noticed yet. There’s restraint in the playing, like the band is holding something back on purpose. When the rhythm section tightens, when the vocals finally break through the mist, it feels less like a breakdown and more like the moment the sky changes color before a storm hits. By the time the second half hits, the track is operating in layers: tension, collapse, rebirth, all packed into under five minutes. It’s the sound of control and chaos feeding off each other. Where the debut album gave us glimpses of what Hatred Inherit could be, Void shows us exactly what they are now. Sharpened. Patient. Relentless in a new way. Not louder. Not faster. Just smarter and far more dangerous.

From the start, they leaned into the heavier, dissonant edges of death metal. Their early work was drenched in influence, from the ferocity of Morbid Angel to the grotesque precision of Decapitated. The riffs were there, the fury was real, but it hadn’t quite coalesced into something unique. The bones were solid, but the skin hadn’t hardened yet. That changed with Void.

Released in 2025 through Satanath and Pest Records, Void feels like a band finally locked in with itself. The production alone tells you they mean business. Recorded at guitarist Stipe Šimleša’s 3rd Floor Sounds, the album isn’t overpolished, it’s sharp, tight, but still gritty. You can feel the weight of every drum hit, the scrape of each riff, the guttural exhale of every vocal phrase. Nothing here sounds accidental.

What’s most impressive is how Hatred Inherit hasn’t lost their sense of violence while getting more technical. That’s a hard balance to strike. Plenty of bands go clean and lose their edge. Not these guys. Tracks like “Feeding the Abyss” and “Fading From Within” are structured like complex machinery, but they still feel like they could collapse on you at any second. There’s tension in every corner.

They’ve also matured as songwriters. There’s atmosphere now, space to breathe. “Hatred,” an instrumental track deep in the record, feels like a descent into some inner chamber where things get slower, colder, more cerebral. And then the album slams shut with “Weak,” a final barrage that leaves no doubt they still know how to crush.

And while the entire album is solid front to back, one song stands out.. the one I keep going back to. “New Gods.” This track feels like the centerpiece of Void. It opens with a riff that doesn’t just attack.. it drags. It groans and twists, almost doom-like in its pacing, before the drums tear it apart. There’s something sinister in how slowly it builds. It’s not a sprint. It’s a ritual. The vocals here hit a different kind of low-less roar, more growl-from-the-pit, and it works perfectly with the ominous tone of the guitars.

Halfway through, the song changes. The drums loosen, the tempo shifts into something more frantic, and then everything crashes back into place with a groove that’s equal parts Immolation and pure Hatred Inherit. This is the sound of a band that understands restraint and release. A band that knows heaviness isn’t always about speed, it’s about weight, and how long you can make someone carry it.

If Void is the rebirth of Hatred Inherit, then “New Gods” is their thesis statement. A declaration that they’re no longer just surviving. They’re claiming space.. and they’ve earned it.