When you've been making very consistent melodic metalcore for more than two decades, at some point there is a real risk of boredom. How do you find that spark to do something new? Does it require a membership shakeup, or a full sound reinvention? Christian metal legends Demon Hunter did not need either; instead, finding passionate inspiration through the recent death of singer Ryan Clark's mother, the quintet's 12th album, There Was a Light Here, is their best work in nearly a decade, and an immediate contender for best album of the year.

The album begins with an incredible one-two punch; first, the brutal "My Place in the Dirt," featuring some of the most intense unclean vocals heard from Ryan in a very long time, eschews the melodic side of DH almost entirely in favor of pounding urgency from drummer Yogi Watts and Ryan's fierce declaration against the judgment of do-nothing Christians ("Where few will tread their holy feet / Soil their sacred hands"). Immediately on the heels of that blistering opener is brilliant first single and obvious concert opener "Sorrow Light the Way," a quintessential Demon Hunter song with a catchy lead riff from guitarist Patrick Judge and a sing-along chorus that ranks among their best.

The album continues with DH touching every corner of the "expansive sonic playground" that Ryan likes to talk about, with consistent success. The mega-aggressive "Ouroboros," and the nifty metal-shuffle time signature of "Hang the Fire," both bring the signature Ryan Clark screams with confrontational lyrics. The mid-tempo radio-made singles are there with "Light Bends" and "Overwhelming Closure," both of which feature spectacular guitar solos from Judge. Of particular enjoyment is the foreboding groove of "The Pain in Me Is Gone," and its lyrical exploration of the anguish of grief. There is not a bad song or an obvious skip on this album; the tempo varies, the aggression rises and subsides, the choruses soar, and every song stands out in some way. And of course, it all sounds fantastically crisp and clear, which is all you would ever expect from the masterful production skills of rhythm guitarist Jeremiah Scott.

When talking about Demon Hunter albums, I describe many of them as "great collections of songs" -- which probably sounds more derisive than I intend, but I think it is true that their albums often have not had wholly distinct identities beyond another batch of great songs in the Demon Hunter formula. 2022's Exile, which most fans tend to rank near the bottom of their discography, attempted to remedy that as a dystopian fiction concept work, but that often-plodding album overstayed its welcome long before it ended. It's remarkable, then, how cohesive of a statement There Was a Light Here is, and it's all rooted in the lyrical sincerity of Ryan's grieving emotions which underscore everything. Gratitude for divine assistance is expressed in "Light Bends": "When the light bends to shatter a soul / we feel the toll / It was right then You covered us all / You carried the weight in full." The influence of departed loved ones is celebrated in "Reflected": "Through the faces of our daughters and sons / We see with lucid hearts / Our spirits never apart." There is no shortage of spiritual and faith references; in fact, the public announcement of the album prominently features John 1:5: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

And then... there's the ending. I will admit that I am frequently not a fan of how Demon Hunter albums end, which is often with either a power ballad that leans toward cheesy ("Blood in the Tears," "Heart of a Graveyard") or a heavy track that feels tacked on ("Lesser Gods," "The Wrath of God"). Through 12 LPs, Demon Hunter may never have ended an album with the emotional resonance of "There Was a Light Here," a quiet and deeply personal reflection on the life of Ryan's mother sung in the second person: "You may never find the place you're looking for / You may never see her face again this side of heaven's door / But when the night is at its darkest, in the quiet of your heart, you will know / There was a light here." It was the last song written and recorded for the album and led to a change in the album's title, and it serves as an exceptional coda to an LP that connects not just as great metalcore and rock music, but on an intensely personal level.

I've attended a lot of concerts in 2025, a majority of which were celebrations of albums that were released 10 or 20 years ago. I don't regret any of those, but I also had the opportunity to see Demon Hunter last month in Seattle and was struck by this realization: 20 years ago, this band released The Triptych, a revolutionary album that could easily be identified as their best and served as proof of concept for everything great that Demon Hunter would later represent. They could certainly have spent 2025 doing the nostalgia thing, taking a victory lap around the world celebrating that album, and it's a statement of the band's commitment and ethic that, instead, they dove into personal tragedy to create easily one of their best albums. And with each listen, I am more willing to entertain a discussion about putting it right at the top of that list where I have The Triptych and Extremist.

There Was a Light Here is not just catchy, not just full of great riffs, guitar solos and earworms -- it's poignant and genuine, a thoughtful masterpiece from one of the most consistent bands in our scene over more than two decades. It is impressively aggressive at times, but even in the lower-tempo moments, it propels forward with a purpose and urgency that never departs, and it is lyrically so vulnerable and honest as to make the listener feel deeply connected to every word. By the end, it is a solemn reminder that, often, the best art is mined from the depths of loss and grief -- and a definitive reminder that Demon Hunter has no intention of relinquishing their place as the Christian metal GOAT.

- Review date: 11/2/25, Evan Dickens of Jesusfreakhideout.com