"In the pit of my gut I taste burning pain/An ulcer that eats from my heart to my brain," Foldi growls on "I Could," a song about emotional isolation, or maybe dinner at Chipotle; such dark, angry sentiment drives the newly propulsive SoB. Half this album is just as suited for the mosh pit as the dance floor, particularly the bellowed-out title cut and the hulking "Overload," a buffet of power chords and obscenities. SoB doesn't forget the buoyant dance numbers ("Take Me Away") and breathy, lovelorn electronica ("This Thing"), but for the most part, this is an album where knuckles bleed, not hearts.
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