Arkangel – Prayers Upon Deaf Ears (1998)

If you thought Europe couldn’t produce hardcore as apocalyptic and unrelenting as the States, Prayers Upon Deaf Ears by Arkangel will rip that smug idea straight from your skull. This 1998 scorcher out on Released Power Productions is a hate-fueled, metallic sermon delivered from the crumbling altars of Belgium’s brutal hardcore underground. It doesn’t ask for your attention—it grabs it by the throat and slams it against the wall.

Coming out of Brussels, Arkangel isn’t riding coattails or mimicking what’s hot in the States—they’re building their own war machine, one blastbeat at a time. Belgium’s been bubbling for a minute with bands like Liar and Congress pushing the edge of H8000-style metalcore, but Arkangel takes that sound, douses it in gasoline, and sets it ablaze. This isn’t crossover, this is collapse-core: where vegan straight edge meets scorched-earth metal and drops the hammer.

From the opening riffs, Prayers Upon Deaf Ears feels like a siege. Guitars slash and grind like a buzzsaw chewing through concrete, locking into grooves only to break them down seconds later with blackened tremolo picking and down-tuned breakdowns that don’t care about your neck. The drums are relentless—tight, fast, and mechanical without losing human rage. The vocalist sounds absolutely possessed—every line is screamed like it’s the last breath of a dying prophet. Think early Earth Crisis meets Heartwork-era Carcass, but played in a burning cathedral.

Lyrically, this record reads like a scorched scripture. “Within the Walls of Babylon” doesn’t just criticize—it’s a declaration of war on modern society’s rot. Industrialization, capitalism, speciesism—it’s all on the chopping block. “Built Upon the Graves” doubles down, flipping the soil of our so-called progress to reveal the bones underneath. These aren’t slogans—they’re convictions, screamed from a place of raw, focused fury. It’s militant without being dogmatic, poetic without being soft.

Production-wise, this thing is ugly in the best way. It’s raw but deliberate, capturing the weight and precision of the playing without smoothing the edges. The guitars have that filthy crunch that cuts through, and the drums hit like a hammer. There’s just enough reverb to make everything sound like it’s echoing through a crypt. Recorded like they meant it—loud, unclean, and real.

In terms of impact, Arkangel is carving out a sound that’s going to echo way beyond Belgium. They’re not just another Euro-metalcore band—they’re laying the groundwork for a darker, more aggressive breed of hardcore. You can already hear echoes of this approach creeping into bands from Germany to the States, and it’s only going to grow from here.

Bottom line: Prayers Upon Deaf Ears is a weapon. If you like your hardcore heavy, uncompromising, and politically charged, this is essential. No frills, no filler—just fury, intent, and crushing riffs. This isn’t background noise—it’s a call to arms. Miss this record and you’re missing one of the most vital, violent declarations from the European underground in years. Arkangel isn’t just speaking—they’re shouting, and we’d be fools not to listen.