Architect of Sound: Bruno Rios and the Vocal Confession

The entire tapestry of Till the Wolves Come Home is woven by a single architect—Bruno Rios—whose devilmanship conjures a sonic cathedral of precision and emotional weight. While guest musicians lend their voices and hands, the vision remains singular. Rios’ compositions are polished, tightly structured, and ritualistically immersive. 

Paranoia Church’s Vocals emerge as a central rite. Vulnerable, strained, and deeply human, they channel inner fragmentation through harmonies and call-and-response passages.On the seventh hymn, Sister, ghostly screams erupt—reminiscent of King Diamond’s spectral anguish—casting shadows across the altar of sound. These voices do not merely perform; they confess.

Ceremonial Strings and Serpent Roots: Guitar and Bass as Narrative

Paranoia Church’s guitar work channels the spirits of NWOBHM legends. Bands like Mercyful Fate, Accept, Judas Priest, and Iron Maiden resound through the cathedral walls, yet Rios tempers tradition with a modern emotional edge. Riffs are sharp, melodic, and often follow a ceremonial structure—each passage a blade drawn with purpose. Guitar tones are saturated but clear, distortion wielded with ritualistic clarity. 

This is especially potent in V is for Vulture and Sister, where the guitars do not merely accompany—they narrate.

Paranoia Church’s bass riffs coils beneath the guitars like a serpent in the roots—never flashy, always essential. It functions as a shadow motif, anchoring the emotional weight without demanding attention. In Hello_?, the bass steadies the digital disorientation with a warm, rounded tone. Occasionally distorted, it adds heft without overwhelming the mix. This is not sloth in the lazy sense—it is restraint as ritual. The bass waits, watches, and strikes only when the ceremony demands it.

Percussive Cosmos: Drums as Ritual Pulse and Spatial Force

Paranoia Church’s drums are thunderous and controlled. They feel like ritual percussion—never flashy, always purposeful. They drive the emotional pacing, especially in Back to the Ocean and A Little Dream of You. Snare hits are crisp, toms are cavernous, and cymbals shimmer like distant stars. 

There’s a sense of space in the drum mix that adds to the album’s cinematic feel. 

Whispers in the Void: Synths and Ambient Echoes

The listener will also discover subtle yet potent elements woven throughout the music. Synthesizers and ambient textures surface, not to dominate, but to add depth. These sonic adornments are used with careful restraint. Yet, their impact is undeniable, especially with the track’s conclusion, the Outro, and the evocative piece titled Back to the Ocean. In these moments, they shimmer like the lingering traces of strong emotions. They are like echoes of feelings left behind after a powerful experience. These are not loud declarations. Instead, they are quiet whispers that resonate.

The Fruit of Art: A Shared Journey Through Reflection and Meaning

The entirety of Till the Wolves Come Home is a fruit of art journey. It is a collection born from dedicated creative exploration. The lyrical themes explored are deeply meaningful. They speak to universal human experiences. The music invites listeners to connect with these ideas. It’s an album that encourages reflection. This work is a true fruit of that artistic voyage. It’s more than just songs; it’s a shared exploration of significant ideas.

Closing: The Final Benediction: Let the Wolves Come Home

As the album reaches its final moments, we offer our heartfelt thanks to Paranoia Church for allowing us to review Till the Wolves Come Home. This has been more than a listening experience—it’s been a ritual of sound, emotion, and reflection. Now, we close the ceremony by unveiling the final three sins and sealing the review.