Droidglow — Neon Inferno Review
Droidglow, the Darksynth/Cyberpunk project forged by Italian producer Lorenzo Figini, unleashed his latest sonic ritual Neo Inferno, on 24th October 2025. Released through the vaults of American label New Retro Wave, the album emerged across CD, vinyl, cassette, and even a limited-edition mini-disc—each format a vessel for the flame.
Droidglow, Neon Inferno Review: This review will evaluate every aspect of the album, from its intricate musical composition to its production. Our analysis will provide valuable insights to help you determine if this album is worth adding to your collection.
The First Three Sins, The Summary
The Fourth Sin, Overall Discussion
Ignition Rite: The First Flame of Neon
When you press play on Droidglow‘s latest album, Neon Inferno, the first hymn explodes like a wild spark in an old secret ceremony. It hooks you fast. Right from the start, it lays down the path for the rest: ten more songs that craft full, bright soundscapes. Each track shines with bent neon glows. They blend fears from past visions of tomorrow, quick clashes from arcade games, and tales of fresh starts born from pain.
The synths act like magic spells, weaving through the air. Drums hit hard, like chains that bind you in place. No voices break the spell. No soft spots either. It’s all raw darksynth fire, burning clean and fierce.
The Chosen Few: Who Hears the Pulse
Not all listeners will connect with Droidglow. If the steady beat of 1980s club music grabs you, or the rough push of EBM pulls hard, or the aggressive bite of Aggrotech cuts deep, or cyberpunk stories in books and films draw you close. Or darkwave tracks with their low hums suit your nights. Or dark synth rhythms drive your steps—then this album becomes your private haven-neon dance club.
Fragments Reunited: The Ceremony Complete
I’ve covered Droidglow‘s previous singles. Each felt like a fragment of some larger ceremony. Now, Neon Inferno ties those fragments into one whole. The full record clocks in at forty minutes. It holds you close in a tight grip, but the sounds stretch out wide. Imagine a slow collapse of the digital world. Things fall apart one byte at a time.
Picture a slow digital end of the world, where everything unravels bit by bit. Think of Blade Runner‘s wet, sad streets mixed with the angry rites in DOOM games. That blend captures the heart of it
Digital Devotion: Synths, Spells, and Sonic Ruin
The album spans eleven tracks total. The sound mix stays crisp. It draws you right into the heart. Synths and drums align like steps in a grave ritual dance. No blurred spots from worn-out tools here. It’s all sharp digital work, built for top-notch speakers or headphones that feel like holy ground.
At the heart, the synths drive everything. They come from a crafty hand, full of sly tricks. Arpeggios twist like glowing marks from a dark spell. They climb high in wild joy. Bass lines growl low, as if old powers stir under city streets. Pads grow thick with space-born fears, building a mist of fake sorrow. Now and then, quick modular bursts add wild twists. They spark like faults in a cracked shrine, keeping the ceremony fresh and jagged.
This pairs with a heavy mood that hangs thick. It feels like the end times in a film, with bright neon views crumbling slow. Yet, it dips into sharp, old-school black-and-white style, full of tight strain. That pull mixes holy calm with wild risk, like a storm you can’t look away from.
Forged in Silence: Guitars, Machines, and Wordless Speech
Droidglow layers in guitars and machine beats to give each hymn more depth and shape. Guitars show up rarely, but they add real bite. Twisted and distorted licks flash like quick fires in rites, tucked under the synth waves. They bring rough texture and solid force, without stealing the main electronic fire. The drums remain synthetic, locked in ritual patterns, built for battle over soft shows. Snares snap shut like sharp digital lashes. Kicks pound like heavy steps in a chant, pushing the sound ahead like a gear in war.
No real drum sets make an appearance. This is all forged rhythm from a machine shop.
The whole thing stays wordless. No human cries cut through. But the synths talk in strange ways. Without voices, it makes a clear point: machines share their thoughts through feel, not words. That space lets the sounds build their own raw voice.
At the same time, while the album remains largely wordless, one track breaks the neon silence. The Hunter, the second single, stands as the only vocal hymn on the entire record. It emerges from a sacred collaboration with English singer Shaun Phillips, the legendary voice behind LeBrock. His presence adds a human cry to the machine’s chant—a rare moment where flesh meets synth in ritual harmony.
Echoes of the Past: Legends in Neon Flesh
All this pulls from 80s and 90s darkwave and synth roots. It nods to bleak films and cyberpunk myths, and legends too. The beats move you, strike hard, and stick in your head like old legends. The beats urge you to sway. They strike firm and lodge in your thoughts like timeless myths. Think of influences like the band’s nod to Vangelis scores from sci-fi classics, or the raw energy echoing Skinny Puppy‘s industrial edge from the 80s.
Neon Inferno rises as a solid fruit of art. It shines with the keen glow of a ceremony that sticks. If you’ve asked what dark synth achieves in a full album, this delivers with lasting flame.
Ritual Artefact: The Devil’s Composition
Overall, Neon Inferno is no mere album—it’s a ritual artefact. Its devilmanship is carved with precision, its compositions arranged like cursed hymns. Together, they bloom into a dark fruit of neon art, ripe with tension and ceremonial intent.
Final Benediction: Droidglow’s Flame Sealed
As Neon Inferno fades into its final embers, we offer our deepest thanks to Droidglow for granting us passage into his sonic sanctum. With the album’s flame sealed, we now descend into the final three sins—completing the rite, and closing the circle.
The Fifth Sin, The Memorabilia
For me, Droidglow’s Neon Inferno is a fruit of art. It embodies devilmanship in both its musical compositions and sonic arrangements. The album captures the spirit of the past while boldly pushing the boundaries of modern sound. It channels the pulsating energy of the ’80s and ’90s, resulting in a captivating auditory experience—one that invites listeners to lose themselves in its darkly neon, electrifying atmosphere.
The Sixth Sin, The Artwork
This is not mere cover art—it is a visual invocation, a glyph of descent, a warning etched in neon. (artwork by Meruyuert Bukharbayeva, colorist Bryan Elisyan Maciel)
The Seventh Sin, Disrelish
There is nothing to rebuke in the sonic offerings of Neon Inferno. Each hymn stands as a testament to Droidglow’s devilmanship—ritualised, relentless, and radiant. Thus, we seal our review of Neon Inferno. I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude for your time in reading this article. We invite you now to explore the full body of work from Droidglow, and New Retro Wave — and lose yourself in the glow.
The Hymns
01. Neon Inferno
02. Necromancer
03. The Hunter (with House Of Serpents and Thorr)
04. Totem
05. Revenant
06. Worship (with Celina)
07. Life
08. Spiteful
09. Slip
10. Oscillator
11. Goodbye (with Thorr)
Droidglow
Droidglow — Everything