Slipknot
– The End, So Far
The End, So Far, released in 2022, marks a compelling chapter in Slipknot’s storied career. As their final album with longtime label Roadrunner Records, it encapsulates both a reflection on their past and a forward-looking evolution of their sound. The record ventures into new territories, blending their signature aggression with atmospheric experimentation, a testament to Slipknot’s ever-evolving artistry.

The album is defined by its dynamic range, juxtaposing ferocious, riff-driven anthems with hauntingly melodic passages. It showcases Slipknot’s ability to balance visceral intensity with nuanced composition, creating a soundscape that feels both raw and cinematic. The production is meticulously crafted, with intricate percussion, roaring guitars, and evocative lyrics, reflecting themes of mortality, transformation, and the band’s ongoing creative reinvention.
The End, So Far serves as a bold statement from a band that refuses to stagnate, proving Slipknot’s place as both metal icons and innovators in heavy music. It’s a powerful reminder of their influence and a thrilling step into what could come next.
Choice Tracks
Adderall
A slow-motion opener, it unfurls like a haze, showing the band’s willingness to twist their sound into something unsettling and strangely fragile before the storm hits.
The Dying Song (Time to Sing)
This track explodes with venom, its chorus a chant built for mass release. The riffs grind hard, but the vocal bite gives it the most lasting wound.
Yen
Dark, brooding, and claustrophobic, it thrives on mood as much as heaviness. The song sways with menace, like a whispered threat that eventually erupts.
Hive Mind
Feral and relentless, this one pounds forward with brute rhythm. It’s Slipknot in full attack mode, the kind of track that shakes every loose bolt out of the machine.
Acidic
One of the stranger turns, built on mood and sludgy pacing. It drags like a body through the mud, smearing bluesy grit into the album’s harsher edges.
Slipknot’s The End, So Far is a bruised and sprawling record, balancing fury with unsettling calm. It’s an album that lives in tension—every track torn between collapse and eruption, carrying the weight of time and the sting of scars left unhealed.
Slipknot has always thrived on turning chaos into a kind of ritual, and The End, So Far pushes that instinct into new, uneasy territory. The record never hides its scars; it wears them openly, building tension through cavernous production and lyrics that lean toward confession as much as confrontation. Every track feels like it’s dragged out of a storm, dripping with noise and intent.
There’s an openness here that feels unusual for the band, almost like the mask has slipped without being removed. The quieter passages don’t offer relief—they coil up like snakes, waiting for the guitars and drums to slam the floorboards loose again. The interplay between brute force and atmospheric drift keeps the whole thing unstable, alive, and hard to pin down.
This isn’t a band mellowing or softening; it’s a band digging deeper into the void they’ve always stared at. The rage is still here, but it feels older, heavier, more like a weight than a weapon. The End, So Far sounds like music that knows time is finite and that every scream, riff, and collapse matters in the face of it.

