Lost in the Sound Of Underoath’s ‘Voyeurist’

Underoath, especially in the formation of a lineup including Spencer Chamberlain, Aaron Gillespie, Tim McTague, and Chris Dudley, has always been special to me. I often say with dead seriousness that their album ‘Lost in the Sound of Separation’ saved my life. It was the album that accompanied the larger part of my first recovery period after being hospitalized for depression.

‘Voyeurist’ feels like the follow-up to Lost in the Sound of Separation we never got because of Aaron’s departure. With the way ‘Voyeurist’ feels like a warm hoodie on a cold night, this lineup has something incredibly hard to replicate with anyone else. I missed the way ‘Voyeurist’ sounds, even though it is something innovative and fresh for Underoath.

I especially don’t want to say that like ‘Erase Me’ doesn’t exist. That album dropped during what was my 10 year anniversary since that hospitalization. Erase Me came at the perfect time, and brought me back to my favorite pass time before the pandemic would take that away from me: rock shows and screaming my lungs out.

But ‘Voyeurist’ is everything that ‘Lost in the Sound of Separation’ built, and then of course, so much more.

“Hallelujah” and “We’re All Gonna Die” are those anthems full of belted choruses that drew me in as an angsty teen who used to run around my driveway singing “Drowning in my sleep” at the top of my lungs. “This is fucking hell,” is my adult version of this line, as I spend a third year inside because of the pandemic, and I slowly begin to feel the effects of this long of a period of isolation. The lyricism of Spencer and Aaron will always be a reason I can never let go of Underoath. The poetry on songs like “Thorn” are far too great to be dismissed.

It’s hard to talk about ‘Voyeurist’ objectively in the context of where Underoath is now musically, veteran post-hardcore band dudes making the kind of music that parents swore we’d outgrow. Instead, I am 31 and still here for the ambient guitar melody, addicting drum fills, and heart-wrenching lyrics exploring the darkness and pain of the human existence. I hear myself in Underoath’s music and because of that, I can never fully examine their music as anything other than medicine.

It is astute then, that ‘Voyeurist’ ends on a 7 minute ethereal exploration of different sounds entitled “Pneumonia.” We’re sick. We’re trying. And we’re in this together. “We’ll kill ourself to climb.”