Halestorm
– Back from the Dead
Lzzy Hale doesn’t ask for the mic—she grabs it like it owes her money. Back from the Dead is not a subtle album, and thank God for that. This is Halestorm at their loudest, snarling through trauma, rage, resilience, and the mess in between. It’s a comeback story told with fists clenched and amps howling, but without slipping into cliché. No phoenix metaphors, no Hallmark slogans. Just raw electricity filtered through Hale’s voice, which remains one of the few true power tools in modern rock.
Best of…
The title isn’t a metaphor. It’s a response to loss, depression, and isolation, born out of pandemic paralysis and emotional rot. But instead of brooding in grayscale, Halestorm coat their fury in glitter and gasoline. The riffs hit hard, the drums stomp like they’re trying to crack the floor, and the choruses are engineered to be screamed from the pit or the driver’s seat. Still, for all its volume, the record never feels bloated. It’s lean, it’s mean, and it swings like it’s got something to prove.
What makes Back from the Dead great isn’t its heaviness, but its clarity. Lzzy’s never sounded more confident, more in control of the chaos. She lays herself bare—furious, fragile, defiant—all within three-minute firestorms. Halestorm isn’t reinventing the wheel here, but they sure as hell are burning rubber on it. Rock radio should be grateful this band still cares enough to swing for the fences.
Choice Tracks
Back from the Dead
The title track opens with a jolt. It’s not a slow build—it’s an alarm. Lzzy’s voice growls and soars, digging its nails into survival itself. It’s less “I’m back” and more “You should be worried I made it.” Unrelenting and necessary.
Wicked Ways
Built like a haunted house with a Marshall stack inside, this track walks a tightrope between guilt and indulgence. It’s the sound of someone confessing their sins and grinning through the smoke. The chorus drops like a hammer, but it’s the strut in the verses that sells it.
Strange Girl
Anthemic, sharp-edged, and aimed at every misfit within earshot. This is Halestorm at their most fun without losing bite. The riff is candy-coated chaos, and the message is clear: you don’t need to fit in, you just need to be loud enough not to care.
Terrible Things
A ballad, but not soft. It’s soaked in melancholy, with Lzzy laying out the rot of humanity in delicate, bruised lines. Her restraint here is powerful. No need to scream when the pain’s already sitting shotgun.
The Steeple
The kind of track you build a tour around. It’s got that crowd-surge DNA baked in. Equal parts sermon and shout-along, it turns the stage into church and the fans into congregation. Not preachy—just primal.
Back from the Dead isn’t Halestorm’s rebirth. It’s their refusal to die quietly. It’s loud, brash, and gloriously alive. A shot of adrenaline straight to the chest—and proof that resilience doesn’t always whisper. Sometimes it screams.