Doomed User

"Doomed User" is the ugly, welcome jolt on an album often accused of being too pretty. Carpenter's riff is a squat, downtuned lurch — thick, sludge-adjacent, closer to Meshuggah's mechanical churn than to the airy textures surrounding it on Gore — and it grinds in a way that feels physically heavy rather than fast. Cunningham plays against it with a swinging, syncopated pocket that keeps the song from becoming a straight beatdown. Moreno alternates modes with practiced violence: a strangled, throat-shredding bark on the verses, then a smeared melodic croon riding the chorus, the two selves he's been switching between for two decades. The lyrics are fragmentary and paranoid, circling addiction and self-consumption without ever naming them — appetite as a system that eats its own operator. The title itself reads like a machine error message applied to a person. Recorded during a period of documented friction between Moreno and Carpenter over the album's direction, the track sounds like that argument resolved by force. It's abrasive, short-tempered, and doesn't ask to be liked. Put it on when frustration needs somewhere physical to go — the gym, a punching bag, a drive taken faster than it should be.