Cavalera is the continuing collaboration between Max and Iggor Cavalera, the brothers who founded Sepultura and helped push Brazilian extreme metal from underground violence into worldwide influence. Their work together has always been rooted in rhythm, riff, and impact: Max's barked vocals and serrated guitar attack locked against Iggor's unmistakable drumming, which can feel tribal, punk-fast, and mechanically heavy at once. After years of separate paths, the brothers reunited through Cavalera Conspiracy and later shortened the name as their focus turned increasingly toward the earliest Sepultura material. Recent Cavalera releases revisit Bestial Devastation, Morbid Visions, and Schizophrenia through full re-recordings, not as nostalgia pieces but as attempts to give those primitive thrash, death-thrash, and proto-blackened songs the power the brothers felt they always had live. Current sets often center on that early Sepultura era, with the band presenting the material as living extreme metal: raw, fast, percussive, and still connected to the restless force that made the original records matter.

Eternal play old-school death metal with the grime, swing, and riff memory that made the style feel dangerous before it became overly polished. Forsaken Memories introduced a raw melodic-thrash edge, while Faceless Evil moved the band closer to a classic death metal vocabulary: guttural vocals, grinding guitar tone, and songs that balance speed with corpse-heavy groove. Cryptic Lust is the clearest statement of that approach, pulling from late-eighties and early-nineties Florida and Swedish death metal without sounding like a museum piece. Emilio Ortega's vocals and guitar work give the songs a rotten, commanding presence, with Sofie Nabboud's guitars, Xander Bridge's drumming, and Rob Wolfe's bass locking into arrangements that move between thrash attack, doomier stomps, and serrated leads. Tracks such as "Cryptic Lust," "Thorns of Regret," and "Conjuring the Void" show a band more interested in memorable riffs than technical clutter. Eternal's sound is filthy but readable, brutal but not flat, and driven by the sense that every tempo change should make the next riff hit harder.