Cold air sharpens the senses, and darkness has a way of clarifying the things we’d rather not look at. On their second album Being Human, Swedish trio Killing Kind lean into that tension—both sonically and thematically—to produce a work that feels urgent, atmospheric, and unnervingly present. If their 2023 debut hinted at their grasp of post-punk noir and synth-goth melancholy, Being Human arrives more forcefully: heavier, darker, and more confident in its own shadow.

This record isn’t simply “dark for darkness’ sake.” It taps into something distinctly Scandinavian—a cold sense of awe, dread, beauty, and resignation toward the world’s unraveling. There’s a cinematic, almost ritualistic quality to these songs: they chant, they drone, they pulse, they plead. The band frames the album as a set of “incantations for a dying world,” and that rings true across all eleven tracks. Humanity, they argue, is still desperately pouring gasoline onto the very fires we claim to fear.

Sonically, Being Human stitches together the emotional gravity of The Cure, the electronic melancholy of Depeche Mode, and the theatrical anxiety of Bowie’s Berlin era, but it never feels derivative. Killing Kind have carved out their own space: guitars bleed rather than bite, synths throb like veins, drums march forward like an inevitable clock. Björn Norberg’s vocal delivery possesses that rare quality of sounding both weary and commanding—haunted, but resolute. Meanwhile, Mats Wigerdal’s synth work is the glue: shivering pads, icy pulses, melodic phantoms drifting just out of frame.

The real wildcard is the production. Working with Tomas Skogsberg—a name synonymous with Swedish death metal—was a bold move, and it pays off. His approach thickens the band’s sound without cluttering it. There’s an earthy heaviness under the otherwise spectral arrangements, allowing Being Human to feel physical rather than purely atmospheric. You feel the bass in your sternum. You feel the rhythm in your spine.

Lyrically, the album exists somewhere between dystopian literature, existential crisis, and horror cinema. Tracks like “Humanity” and “Never So Cold” brandish the apocalypse as metaphor; “Desperately Holding On,” already a standout single, drills into the tension between hope and collapse; “Let the Demons Take the Win” is almost sarcastic in its surrender. Yet there’s no nihilism here—just an honest portrait of a species fraying at the edges and still yearning to care.

The guest contributions are subtle but powerful: Cecilia Germain’s vocals bring a ghostly beauty, Lidija Radmilac’s viola carves cinematic dread, and Ernst Erlanson’s piano moments feel like candlelight in the dark.

Originally born as a pandemic side project, Killing Kind now sound like a band with purpose. Being Human is not just a follow-up; it is a statement of identity. A sound fully realized. A worldview articulated.

It’s music for late nights, winter streets, empty train platforms, and thoughts you don’t say out loud.

Cold, yes. Dark, yes. But unmistakably alive.

“Being Human” is available now on all major streaming platforms

Listen to Killing Kind and other similar artists on our Spotify Playlist ‘New Music Spotlight - Indie & Alternative’

“Being Human” - Killing Kind

“Son of Sam I Am (Tommy's Version)” - Too Much Joy

“The Journey” - Rupert Träxler