Recorded by Bomb, mixed, mastered, and visually designed by Sọt, “Dzữa” marks CÚT LỘN’s third full release, and perhaps their most cohesive yet.
For those less familiar with CÚT LỘN, the band emerged in Vietnam’s underground around the late 2010s, gaining notoriety for their raw, chaotic shows and tongue-in-cheek attitude, the kind of band that could turn any gig into a brawl between laughter and feedback. What started as noisy trash/punk laced with absurd humor has slowly evolved into something darker, heavier, and more deliberate. Dzữa is that final evolution, not a departure, but a transformation.
The Weight of Sound
The EP wastes no time. Opening with the title track, “Dzữa” lunges forward in full force! Beastly riffs, frantic tempo, and painfully shredded vocals. The structure feels unhinged at first, but by the halfway mark, it locks into something frighteningly purposeful, channeling the feral energy of early-2000s metalcore titans.
“Ngoắng” follows in the same breath, introducing more dissonant guitar work and a few shorter, deceptive pauses that momentarily spare your neck before it swings again. Its outro melts seamlessly into “Mãn,” a complete tonal shift; slow, thick, and drenched in despair. The song drags you through a sludge of emotion reminiscent of Crowbar or Neurosis, a brief but crushing slowdown before chaos resumes.
“Ung” and “Nguội” bring the speed back with vengeance, a back-to-back onslaught that captures the band’s interplay between aggression and darkness. The tight drum patterns and gritty low-end prove how far CÚT LỘN’s musicianship has come since their early years.
Then comes “Hôm Qua,” arguably the EP’s centerpiece and most balanced composition. It begins with an intricate drum solo that gradually builds tension, introducing gloomy, suspended chords and bass lines that move with intent. The vocals shift here, less primal, more expressive, giving the track an emotional contour that contrasts beautifully with the brutality around it. The final section uses open chords to paint a brief moment of sadness before everything collapses back into distortion.
Closing with “Một Chiều,” the band rides out on one of their most commanding performances to date. The bass tone is monstrous, pronounced, distorted, and unapologetically heavy. It’s a perfect conclusion, reaffirming their evolution from beer-soaked punk absurdists into a focused, feral unit. One that now stands comfortably beside the early work of Converge and Coalesce.
Production, Intention, and the Final Form
What makes “Dzữa” stand out isn’t just the heaviness, it’s the precision behind it. The entire EP feels meticulously assembled, every transition deliberate, every tone measured. Sọt’s production deserves special recognition: the record manages to sound both polished and filthy, the guitars crusted yet clear, the drums dry and alive. No instrument overpowers another. Those subtle spillovers, the bits of feedback bleeding from one track into the next, give it a lived-in texture, a nod to when hardcore records were more about capturing a moment than editing one.
The recording work by Bomb also can’t be understated. A record this raw could easily fall apart without a strong foundation, but here every layer holds. The sound is tight, organic, and true to the band’s live energy.
Lyrically, CÚT LỘN keep things sharp and minimal. A few words per line, more rhythm than poetry, but always precise. The vagueness works in their favor, allowing each phrase to hit harder and leave room for interpretation. There’s no forced intellect here, just deep cuts delivered with conviction.
In short, “Dzữa” might be one of the most complete and honest releases of the year, a culmination of everything CÚT LỘN have been hinting at for years. It’s dark, unfiltered, and uncompromising.
CÚT LỘN has finally evolved into the Pokémon no one expected but everyone needed, raw, heavy, and brutally sincere. No fluff. No BS. Just the sound of a band fully realizing who they are.
Rating: 9/10
