No More Strings to Pull Anymore: RequiemCore’s Slow Dance Calls Out the Fake Sacrifice and the Prison We Built Ourselves
- Editorial Board
- Jul 8
- 2 min read
A punishing metalcore stomp that tears at the strings we pretend we don’t see
RequiemCore’s Slow Dance is not your classic metal ballad — it’s a savage, fast-burning dirge for anyone suffocating under modern chains. It kicks in with an opening synth-scape that evolve into growl that rips through empty comfort.
The first lines — “Little bit of this, little bit of that / This can't be all that you have” — cut right to the bone: the lies we swallow, the illusions that keep us docile.
This track drags you into the pit and refuses to let you stand still. Every word drips with frustration and self-awareness — “They’ve taken everything and now they’re coming for me” lands like a brick to the chest. The guitars hammer, the double pedal slam, the screams crack through the noise like warning sirens. It’s not chaos for chaos’ sake, it’s organized, precise fury.
Under the aggression, the lyrics stay sharp. “We built our own prison / They took everything away / They did it to our face” — simple, clear, vicious. The band knows exactly who’s to blame, and the rage never lets you look away.
Even the quietest moments feel like standing on the edge before you jump.
Midway through, the choir chant — “Who we are / Who we are / Cause it is all we got” — lifts the track from pure rage into a battered, ragged unity.
The line “Waiting for the end to call my name” turns the breakdown into something darker — an exhausted wish for the nightmare to snap. It never does.
Verses spit venom: “Sacrifice? You wouldn’t know it / Name my price? You couldn’t afford it.” Every word is a middle finger to comfort and fakery. The riffs swing between groove and chug, the drums grind everything into dust, then the vocals explode back in with “Keep away from me” — a final swing at all the false therapy and bought-off happiness that keeps people docile.
Slow Dance was written by Ryosuke Kurosawa and composed by Anibal De Jesus Martinez, with guitars by Ryosuke Kurosawa and Bryan Butler, vocals by Casey Love, bass by Darius Bravo, mixed by Anibal De Jesus Martinez at Animus Den Productions, and mastered by Joel Wanasek.
Slow Dance is relentless. A dirty mirror. A war cry from the floor of the club when the last bodies are still moshing long after the lights should’ve come up. It doesn’t soothe — it bruises. Exactly how it should.
Don’t forget to follow RequiemCore and listen to Slow Dance on all streaming platforms.
