From the sweaty armpit of Plano, Texas, comes Deviation’s debut EP, The Broken Beginning - a four-track brawl of thrash and groove that lands like a barstool to the face during a hurricane. This trio - guitarists Erik Steeves and Austyn Brewer, plus bassist Chris Corpus - formed in 2020 and promptly lost bandmates faster than a Spinal Tap drummer audition. Drummers bailed, the lineup wobbled, but these lunatics duct-taped some drum tracks together, flipped the universe a double bird, and dropped this gloriously unhinged beast in January 2024. It’s rougher than sandpaper undies, but it’s got more fight than a raccoon in a dumpster - and honestly, that’s the vibe we’re here for.
Slayer and Pantera stumble into a Texas roadhouse, three beers deep, ready to throw down. Then the bartender slips them a drum machine and a mic stand. That’s The Broken Beginning. The guitars shred like they’re late for a court date, then swagger into grooves so thick you could spread ‘em on toast. Chris Corpus’s bass growls like a Harley revving at a stoplight - or maybe a grizzly bear with a hangover. And those programmed drums snap and thud like a Terminator who’s just discovered Red Bull and a metronome. Sure, they lack the sloppy charm of a human flailing behind a kit, but it’s like hiring a Roomba to mow your lawn - oddly satisfying, even if it’s weird as hell. The vocals are rough enough, delivered with all the grace of a toddler throwing a tantrum in a hardware store. It’s not pretty, but it’ll wake the neighbors.
This EP sounds like it was recorded in a garage with a broken AC unit and a six-pack of questionable decisions. The production’s so raw you’d think they used a soup can for a mic - yet somehow, it’s charming, like a mullet at a wedding. That drum machine clatters along like a cyborg doing the robot (badly), and the lyrics about death and corruption are so over-the-top you half expect a cartoon villain to pop out mid-track. It’s dark, sure, but there’s a “screw it, let’s party” energy that keeps it from being a total downer - like a zombie apocalypse where everyone’s just drunk and laughing. This is the sound of a band that’s been kicked in the teeth, handed a beer, and told to get back in the ring. They’re swinging, they’re grinning, and they’ve got blood in their mustache - deal with it.
Deviation’s road to this EP is a comedy of errors with a metal twist. Formed in 2020, they lost a bassist and drummer quicker than you can say “solo project.” Then, after scribbling some riffs, their next drummer ghosted them in 2022 - probably to join a mime troupe or something equally tragic. Most bands would’ve cried into their whiskey and quit, but not these maniacs. They programmed drums like they were hacking a video game, hit record, and laughed in the face of defeat. It’s like fixing a busted spaceship with a paperclip and still landing on the moon. By 2024, they’d snagged Daniel Prada as a live drummer, but the EP was already proof they could thrive on stubbornness and a prayer. It’s the musical equivalent of a “hold my beer” moment - and they pulled it off.
The Broken Beginning didn’t exactly light up the Billboard charts - their social media’s quieter than a library during a power outage, and sales probably won’t fund a private jet. But who cares? This EP is a scrappy, unpolished riot - like finding a 20 bucks bill in a torn-up thrift store jacket. It’s loud, it’s messy, and that drum machine sounds like it’s one glitch away from joining Skynet, but it’s got more heart than a rom-com montage. With a full-length album, Southern Aggression, on the horizon, this feels like the appetizer to a bar fight we’re all invited to. So crank it up, embrace the chaos, and maybe wear a cup - Deviation’s not here to hug it out, and that’s why we’re rooting for these lovable lunatics.
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