DWELLERS Reignite with Haunting Intensity on Corrupt Translation Machine

An 11-Year Wait Ends with One of 2024’s Most Soulful and Sonically Ambitious Records

Review By Halina Wegner for Jace Media Music

Salt Lake City’s DWELLERS return from the ether with Corrupt Translation Machine, their first album in over a decade, and it’s nothing short of a revelation. Slated for release on May 23rd via Small Stone Recordings, this record doesn’t just pick up where 2014’s Pagan Fruit left off—it disassembles and re-engineers the entire DWELLERS blueprint. What we get is a searingly raw, deeply textured, genre-fluid journey through the human condition, grief, perception, and the weird, wild, western mindscape of their Utah home.

If Good Morning Harakiri and Pagan Fruit were rumblings from a dark, psychedelic horizon, Corrupt Translation Machine is the lightning storm that follows—a cinematic, gritty, blues-infused epic that refuses to sit still. The band’s evolution into a four-piece with the addition of bassist Oz Inglorious (Iota, ex-Bird Eater), drummer Kellii Scott (Failure), and synth/piano wizard Chase Cluff (Last) breathes new muscle and atmosphere into the mix, supporting Joey Toscano’s increasingly introspective songwriting and ever-haunting vocal delivery.

DWELLERS are not just a heavier band now—they’re a bolder, riskier one. Opening track “Headlines” sets the tone with a sense of controlled unease, balancing prog structure with blues-rock warmth and alt-grunge bite. It’s melodic, textured, and disarmingly catchy, but there’s a darkness brewing beneath the surface.

That tension continues into “Spiral Vision,” a track that toys with perception and groove in equal measure. Think Meddle-era Pink Floyd colliding head-on with Soundgarden’s woozy menace. Then comes “Old Ways,” which lets the band’s gothic Americana roots out to stretch and howl under a full desert moon—moody and dust-caked, it feels like a hymn to things best left behind.

But it’s “The Beast” where DWELLERS truly bare their fangs. It’s a slab of tonal crush that hits like Kyuss dragged through the mud by King Buffalo. It’s raw, monolithic, and laced with an undercurrent of vulnerability—exactly what makes DWELLERS so compelling. This isn’t just heavy for the sake of being heavy; there’s always a soul underneath the sonic weight.

Lyrically, Toscano remains intentionally elusive, telling us the Corrupt Translation Machine is, in fact, us—humans fumbling with communication, perception, and memory. “There was no contrived concept,” he says, “and when I listen to it, I have a strong feeling that I’m interpreting it just the same as when I’m listening to someone else’s songs.” That ambiguity is the album’s superpower—it invites interpretation, re-interpretation, and personal projection. Like Radiohead’s Kid A or Bowie’s Blackstar, this is music meant to be experienced, not just heard.

“Inside Infinity” leans into Floydian melancholy, with shimmering synths and a vocal performance that feels confessional but distant, like a preacher who’s lost his faith. Then we arrive at “The Maze”, a pounding, riff-forward number that ties the album’s blues-rock spine to its progressive ambitions. Think Queens of the Stone Age if they were raised on Neil Young and peyote.

And then there’s “The Sermon.” If the entire record had built to this one song, it would still be worth it. Toscano describes it as “a Spaghetti Western horror movie,” and that barely scratches the surface. Sung from the perspective of a deranged preacher in a landscape where the sacred and the absurd blur into one, it’s easily the album’s most intense track. A waltzing cadence gives the whole thing a surreal, off-kilter lurch, while the riffs crash and swirl like dust devils in a Mormon tabernacle.

If that wasn’t enough to send chills down your spine, DWELLERS stretch even further into the cosmos with the sprawling 11-minute “Marigold (Heart Of Stone),” a masterclass in dynamic control. This is not filler—this is a journey. From quiet, haunted introspection to full-blown celestial crescendo, the track showcases the full arsenal: layered Rhodes, shimmering synth textures, thunderous rhythm, and Toscano’s wounded-but-wise vocal charisma. It’s here that the album fully transcends genre to become something far more intimate and cinematic.

Finally, the closer “Made (Psych Ward Mix)” delivers a haunting epilogue—part trip-hop hallucination, part blues-rock exorcism. It’s a gentle collapse, an unraveling, and it leaves you wanting to hit replay just to make sense of what you’ve just felt.

DWELLERS, Reborn and Refined

Corrupt Translation Machine doesn’t just mark a return—it redefines DWELLERS as one of the most original and emotionally articulate acts in the heavy underground. This is an album that rewards attention, reveals more with every spin, and dares to be both intellectually challenging and soul-stirring. Fans of Mad Season, Pink Floyd, King Buffalo, Failure, and Neil Young will find echoes here—but ultimately, this is DWELLERS’ world, and we’re just lucky to step inside for a while.

Eleven years after their last album, DWELLERS haven’t missed a beat—they’ve made one of the most compelling records of 2025

Track Listing – Corrupt Translation Machine

1. Headlines
2. Spiral Vision
3. Old Ways
4. The Beast
5. Inside Infinity
6. The Maze
7. The Sermon
8. Marigold (Heart Of Stone)
9. Made (Psych Ward Mix)

Corrupt Translation Machine is a masterclass in dark, progressive storytelling and sonic exploration—haunting, heavy, and unexpectedly human. DWELLERS are back, and they’ve never sounded more essential.