Sleep Token - This Place Will Become Your Tomb (2LP)

Sleep Token’s second album, This Place Will Become Your Tomb, arrived on 24 September 2021 through Spinefarm Records, and it still feels like a line in the sand. The anonymous London collective had already made a cult of their debut, Sundowning, but this one sharpened the ritual. The masks stayed on, the myth of the deity stayed vague, yet the songwriting stepped forward with a confidence that made the secrecy feel earned.

Atlantic sets the tone with stark piano and a swell of ambience, Vessel laying out heartbreak and devotion in that glassy tenor. It’s almost hymnal, so when Hypnosis drops with serrated low-end and neck-snapping syncopation, the contrast hits like cold surf. That push and pull defines the record. Sleep Token flirt with R&B and pop phrasing, then plunge into djent-leaning chugs and polyrhythms. On paper it should be a mess. In practice, it’s weirdly graceful.

The singles told the story early. Alkaline remains a gateway track for a reason. The verses simmer with clipped guitars and shivering synths, then the chorus detonates, all open chords and sky-high melody. The Love You Want rides a clean groove and a hook that sticks around for days, the kind of tune that made rock mags and metal press pay attention. And Fall For Me, with its heavily processed vocoder lead, sparked arguments in heavy forums and group chats. It’s practically a synth-pop lament, stripped of guitars, and yet it fits. Sleep Token always sounded like they were just as happy meditating on silence as they were stomping through breakdowns.

Deep cuts seal the deal. Mine slinks along with a bassline you can practically feel under your ribs, the drums teasing odd accents without ever losing the pocket. Like That slides even further into late-night mood, a reminder that Vessel’s phrasing owes as much to modern R&B as it does to prog. Distraction unveils in layers, one of those tracks where you notice a new harmony or keyboard detail on the third or fourth pass. Then Telomeres arrives with this patient climb, a lyric about time and decay set against a slow-blooming arrangement. By the time High Water spills into the quiet ache of Missing Limbs, you’re not waiting for a big finish, you’re just happy to drift out with the tide.

The playing is tight but never showy. II’s drumming, all ghost notes and switchback grooves, keeps the songs unstable in a good way. The guitars dip into extended-range territory, those baritone thuds landing like footsteps in wet sand, while the keys and pads pull the music toward the cinematic. Vessel sits in the centre, moving from intimate whispers to a full-throated plea without tipping into theatre. The vocal stacks and harmoniser touches feel like part of the language rather than studio garnish. You can tell this band cares about texture.

Production leans dark and spacious. The low end is thick but controlled, so the heaviest moments hit hard without turning to mush, and the piano never gets buried. It’s an album that rewards volume on a decent system, and it makes even more sense on wax. The This Place Will Become Your Tomb vinyl pressing gives room to the dynamics and that airy reverb, the kind of mastering that makes quiet songs feel closer and heavy songs feel wider. If you collect Sleep Token vinyl, this is a keeper, and among Sleep Token albums on vinyl it’s the one that bridges the hush of Sundowning with the more expansive swings the band took later.

Culturally, the record nudged the conversation about what modern heavy music could hold. You could hear it popping up on playlists next to pop-leaning artists one week, then at metal club nights the next. That polarity made sense for a band built on the idea of devotion. People turned up in masks to early headline shows, singing every word of Alkaline like it was a prayer. For a group that avoids spotlights, they’ve created a community that glows.

If you’re crate-digging at a Melbourne record store, keep an eye on the S section. Copies don’t linger. And if you’re hunting from home, it’s easy enough to buy Sleep Token records online through the usual shops that ship vinyl records Australia wide. However you get it, spin it front to back. This isn’t a singles dump. It’s a tide chart for heartbreak, each track pulling you a little further out, then setting you back on shore with Missing Limbs, quieter, but somehow fuller.