Mastodon: “Marrow Deep” album review

So, the time has finally come to review the new Mastodon album. Something I’ve been putting off for quite a few days, because it’s hard to remain objective when you’re dealing with one of your favorite bands. It’s a love affair that goes all the way back to the Remission days and, here we are in 2026, still going strong after all these years.

There are albums that are relatively easy to review. You put them on, listen to the songs, take some notes, separate the good moments from the bad, and somewhere along the way you’ve pretty much made up your mind.

“Marrow Deep” is not one of those albums.

And that’s because it’s almost impossible to listen to Mastodon’s ninth album in isolation from everything that has happened around the band over the last couple of years. Brent Hinds’ departure in March 2025, his tragic death in a motorcycle accident just a few months later, the loss of Brann Dailor’s mother, and generally a period during which Mastodon once again found themselves face to face with something they unfortunately know all too well:

Loss.

Because Brent Hinds wasn’t simply a guitarist who happened to play in Mastodon. He was part of their DNA. One of the people responsible for making this band sound so strange, so unpredictable and, at times, so dangerous.

And as good as “Marrow Deep” may be, his absence can be heard.

You can hear it a lot.

Mastodon in 2026 are now built around the core trio of Troy Sanders, Brann Dailor and Bill Kelliher, with Nick Johnston on guitar and João Nogueira on keyboards playing active roles in this new reality for the band. And rather than attempting to manufacture a second Brent Hinds – something that would have been impossible anyway – they have chosen to move in a slightly different direction.

Fate is there before you even press play

Before we get to the music, though, there’s the cover.

And this time we’re not simply looking at another impressive piece of Mastodon artwork. Dominating the cover of “Marrow Deep” are the Three Fates, essentially giving us the first key to understanding the entire album before we’ve even heard its opening note.

Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos.

One spins the thread of life, the second determines its length, and the third, when the time comes, cuts it.

Mastodon could hardly have chosen a more fitting image for an album like “Marrow Deep”.

Because if there is one feeling running throughout the entire record, it is the realization that no matter how desperately we try to maintain control over our lives, some things are simply beyond our hands. Loss, death, destruction and, ultimately, the need to keep going after the thread of someone close to you has already been cut.

And, of course, after the death of Brent Hinds, it’s almost impossible to look at that image without your mind going there.

The artwork doesn’t need to show Brent. It doesn’t need an obvious tribute or some symbol screaming his name.

The Fates do all the work.

And perhaps that is exactly what makes the cover so successful. It doesn’t simply function as artwork.

It serves as a prologue to the album itself.

Inside “Marrow Deep”

“Barbarians Blood” opens the album without wasting any time on introductions. Heavy, aggressive, with Brann Dailor playing like somebody owes him money and that familiar Mastodon riffing that can transform within seconds from a sludge monolith into progressive insanity.

It’s one of those songs that reminds you that underneath all the melodies, concepts and experimentation, this is still the band that once gave us Leviathan and Blood Mountain.

“Poisonous Weapons” keeps the weight coming, with Troy Sanders exactly where you want him: right up front, threatening, with that unmistakable voice of his that sounds like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside a gigantic underground chamber.

Possibly my favorite song on the album.

And then comes “Your Ghost Again”.

This is perhaps the emotional center of “Marrow Deep”. A song revolving around those strange moments after losing someone, when for a fraction of a second you think you’ve seen them standing beside you again.

Dailor has spoken about moments in the studio when he would catch himself “seeing” Brent to his right, standing in the spot where he would normally be with his guitar.

And somewhere around here, you begin to understand what this album really is.

It isn’t exactly an album about Brent Hinds. Nor would it be fair to present it that way, since much of the material and many of its themes had already begun taking shape through other losses the members of the band were experiencing.

But it is an album over which Hinds’ shadow inevitably fell.

“Snakes For Dinner”, featuring Josh Homme, provides a different kind of breather. Groovier, dirtier, carrying that almost sleazy quality Homme can bring without even appearing to try. His presence works brilliantly without ever turning the song into “Mastodon featuring Queens Of The Stone Age”.

“Out Like A Lamb” and “In The Ruins” slow things down somewhat and allow more room for atmosphere. The latter in particular carries even more weight considering its connection to the devastation Hurricane Helene brought into Troy Sanders’ home and life.

Mastodon have never had a problem taking real-life tragedy and turning it into music. They’ve done it time and time again throughout their career.

And perhaps that is why “Marrow Deep” feels so natural despite the enormous changes that preceded it.

“They’re Coming For You” brings the intensity back, while on “Golden Spires” Brann Dailor absolutely lets loose. There are moments throughout this album where you’re reminded all over again just how ridiculously good a drummer he is. Not because he feels the need to fill every available space with technical showmanship, but because he can alter the entire dynamic of a song with a single fill.

“Moth And Bone” is one of those songs that will probably need several listens before everything hidden inside it begins to reveal itself, while “A Vampire’s Demeanor”, featuring Randy Blythe and Nate Newton, brings the dirt and aggression right back to the forefront.

And then we have “The Vanishing”.

When Geezer Butler appears on a Mastodon album, you don’t really need to write much more to get someone’s attention. His bass introduction alone is enough, while Joe Duplantier’s presence adds even more weight to one of the most interesting tracks on the album.

And finally, we arrive at the nearly eight-minute “The Three Fates”, featuring Neil Fallon of Clutch.

This is where the circle closes.

The Fates that greeted us on the album cover have now entered the music itself. Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos aren’t simply a cool mythological reference that happened to look good on the artwork.

They are one of the fundamental keys to understanding “Marrow Deep”.

An album about all the things we can control.

And, more importantly, all the things we can’t.

The elephant in the room

And somewhere around here, we have to return to Brent.

Because no matter how hard you try to judge “Marrow Deep” purely on its musical merits, there are moments when you inevitably find yourself thinking:

“Brent would have done something different here.”

You just don’t know what.

And that was exactly the point with him.

Some strange southern bluegrass lick, an unexpected lead, a solo that seemingly arrived from another planet, those rough vocals of his, or simply a guitar idea that no sane person would ever have thought to put there.

That is what “Marrow Deep” is missing.

And it is noticeably missing.

Nick Johnston is an exceptional guitarist, and technically there is very little you could possibly criticize about Mastodon’s new guitar setup. Bill Kelliher remains a riff machine, and the guitars throughout the album sound absolutely massive.

But music isn’t mathematics.

Hinds brought an element of chaos into Mastodon. A feeling that a song could suddenly take a bizarre turn at any given moment simply because that was where his mind decided to go. And that almost uncontrollable personality came through his guitar.

He was blues. He was country. He was southern rock. He was metal. He was progressive.

Sometimes he was all of those things within a single solo.

“Marrow Deep” is more controlled.

Perhaps even more focused.

And strangely enough, that is simultaneously one of its strengths and one of its weaknesses.

Mastodon sound more cohesive than anyone could reasonably have expected after such a major upheaval. João Nogueira’s keyboards now have a genuinely substantial role rather than merely providing decoration, the production by Patrik Berger and Kurt Ballou allows the album to breathe without sacrificing its sheer weight, while Sanders and Dailor have taken on an even greater share of the band’s vocal identity.

But the most important thing is that they didn’t try to write a Mastodon album “as if Brent were still here.”

They wrote a Mastodon album without Brent.

There is an enormous difference between the two.

And I believe it was the only right choice.

Because any attempt to imitate him would probably have ended up as a caricature. Hinds was one of those musicians you simply cannot replace. All you can really do is accept his absence and find out what the band can become after him.

And that brings us to today

Because Mastodon’s next chapter is already beginning to take shape, and there is another very interesting name attached to it.

John Baizley.

The Baroness guitarist and frontman recently joined Mastodon onstage during their warm-up show at The Earl in Atlanta, and it has now been announced that he will be joining them on “The Poisonous Weapons Tour”, taking part in a special set featuring older Mastodon songs that the band haven’t performed live in years.

And personally, I find the choice of Baizley extremely interesting.

Not because he is going to become the “new Brent Hinds”.

He isn’t.

And he should never be treated as such.

Baizley, however, is a musician who understands better than most that particular point where sludge, progressive music, southern influences, psychedelia and emotion can all coexist. Baroness, after all, grew musically within a world that has often run parallel to Mastodon’s own.

Whether this collaboration will remain limited to these particular live appearances or eventually develop into something more remains to be seen.

For now, however, “Marrow Deep” provides a fairly clear answer to the biggest question hanging over Mastodon after Brent Hinds.

Yes, they can continue without him.

They just won’t ever be exactly the same Mastodon again.