It’s not every day that a band explodes out of the gates sounding like they’ve already survived the apocalypse — but that’s exactly the energy DAMNAGE brings on their self-titled debut album. Equal parts punk-rock fire and post-pandemic reckoning, the ten-track release captures the tension of modern life with a sound that’s both wildly chaotic and carefully honed. This is not the work of amateurs. It’s the unfiltered expression of three industry-hardened musicians finally making music on their own terms.
Formed by guitarist/vocalist Tim Stewart, bassist/vocalist Jonny Drummond, and drummer Tosh Peterson, DAMNAGE is what happens when long-time collaborators stop playing behind the curtain and step into the spotlight. Collectively, the trio has played with Lady Gaga, Rihanna, The Weeknd, Fall Out Boy, and more — but this project strips away the glitz and gets to the raw heart of what made them fall in love with music in the first place. DAMNAGE is messy, personal, explosive, and grounded in decades of friendship.
The album opens with the scorched-earth blast of “Wasteland,” a track that sets the tone both sonically and thematically. It’s a musical Molotov cocktail — distorted guitars, snarled vocals, and a driving rhythm section that doesn’t let up. But beneath the fury is introspection, a commentary on the illusion of progress and the emotional weight of simply surviving. “Time to Kill” dives into that inertia further, a pandemic-born anthem that captures the feeling of being suspended in time while the world collapses around you.
But it’s not all fire and fury. On “Never See It,” DAMNAGE trades distortion for aching vulnerability, showing a surprising emotional depth that elevates the album from rage-fueled punk to something more nuanced. It’s a track about feeling invisible to the people who are supposed to know you best — a universal ache delivered with quiet devastation. This push-pull between violence and vulnerability defines the album’s arc. It’s not just about what hurts, but why it hurts.
Much of the power in DAMNAGE lies in how personal it feels. Despite their resumes, these aren’t performers chasing trends or algorithms. They’re making music because they need to — because it’s the only way to say what can’t be said any other way. As Stewart puts it, “The album is a sonic punch to the gut and to the face. Giving you something to think about and to feel while you go for the wildest musical ride of your life.”
There’s also something refreshing about DAMNAGE’s refusal to fit neatly into a box. Yes, it’s punk. But it’s also alternative, grunge, and post-hardcore, with streaks of darkwave and shoegaze lurking in the corners. Fans of Turnstile, IDLES, The Strokes, and Amyl and the Sniffers will find touchpoints, but what DAMNAGE is doing feels more like evolution than imitation. The sound is theirs — lived-in, layered, and built for volume.
In a time where so much music feels either algorithmically engineered or nostalgically derivative, DAMNAGE is a breath of brutal, beautiful fresh air. This debut is raw but refined, angry but intelligent, chaotic but deeply intentional. It’s a record that doesn’t ask for your attention — it grabs you by the collar and dares you to look away. DAMNAGE isn’t just a band. It’s a reckoning. And it’s exactly what rock needs right now.
