From Bandcamp, “DISSOCIA enters the mind of multi-instrumentalist Daniel R. Flys as the sonic landscape between two realms: the conscious and the unconscious. With ferocious and convoluted riffs, dreamy synths, extreme and subtle clean vocals, we enter this in-between world backed by Gabriel Valcázar's chaotic and groove drumming and Paul R. Flys' cinematic violin layers. “To Lift the Veil” is a concept album that serves as a metaphor for being a growing seed in an asphalted world. DISSOCIA makes an effort to blend extreme metal with synthwave and dreamwave elements to create a fine progressive blend that is catchy and yet unpredictable to the listener.”

The album has seven songs, and “Existentialist” is first. The opening tones are solemn, but also melodic, and tinged with symphony. From, things get uglier, with a powerful riff and harsh vocals. The music is complex, but also accessible, as the band showcases some tight songwriting skills. “He Who Dwells” comes out of the gate with harsh vocals that are angry, and raging, and the aggressive music mirrors this. The song is very dense—almost like you couldn’t squeeze in another note even if you wanted to. Much of the melody is in the chorus, and it just tempers some of the contentious elements just enough to tickle the listener.

“Samsara” has some noticeable synth work along with the guitars. The various instruments used in creating the song come together quickly, like when new oil is added to a machine and it just fires up as it was intended to. The clean vocals also add another dimension to their music. “Zenosyne” begins with clean tones and a good deal of tension in the background. It’s like plodding through the dark with your hands out and not encountering anything, yet your other senses tell a different story. When it kicks in, it’s like a ram busting through a hollow door, yet they are still able to retain the melody line.

“The Lucifer Effect” begins with gentle, melodic tones, but you know the aggression is coming. I imagine it’s like the feeling a serial killer gets when he is finally alone with his victim. It’s as contentious as anything that I have heard this year, but also, smooth and inviting when it wants to be. “Evasion” is a shorter song that beds keys and guitars together, intersecting at some points and flexible at others. It’s a moment of pure melody. “Out of Slumber” closes the album, and it’s another point where every piston is firing freely. It slows just enough to let out some rays of sunshine, but its darkness might be its deepest quality.

There’s a fine line between chaos and control, between raw aggression and melodic restraint. Many bands attempt to walk it, balancing the two forces in perfect harmony. But this album makes one thing brutally clear—aggression has won the battle. Melody is still present, but it fights for air, suffocating under the sheer weight of unrelenting force. It lingers in the background, trying to assert itself in soaring choruses or haunting leads, but it never fully takes control. The album leans fully into its aggression, allowing only the faintest traces of melody to linger—just enough to remind you of what’s being overpowered.