There is no curse greater than a masterpiece, and no one knows that better than Deafheaven.

When they released their masterpiece Sunbather, they were met with widespread acclaim. Its unique blend of black metal, Mogwai-esque post rock, and My Bloody Valentine worshipping shoegaze created one of the freshest sounds I’d heard in years. If there were ever such a thing as black metal breakthrough hit, this was it. It was lauded by publications as diverse as Pitchfork, AV Club, and Metal Sucks. Apple played it during a keynote.

But with acclaim comes haters. Deafheaven was beset by all sides by purists ripe with disdain. They were called posers, hipster trash, and fake metal.

The follow up, New Bermuda, seemed heavily influenced by the abuse heaped on them by the naysayers. It sounds too self-conscious, too concerned with being a “real” metal record. Deafheaven sounded like they were trying hard to ignore their natural instincts. They tended more toward brutal metal tropes instead of blissed out shoegaze. I love the album, but juxtaposed against Sunbather, the record that showed me how beautiful metal can be, it was a disappointment. And, the haters still panned it.

If New Bermuda was a kneejerk, Ordinary Corrupt Human Love is a course correction.

If there is any concern of what the haters will say about them, they don’t show it. The album opens with “You Without End,” a track led by piano and slide guitar circling around a chord progression that is more Bob Seger than Darkthrone. The track builds, George Clark’s vocals screaming over the piano, but it never bursts into a full-on catharsis. The message is clear: Deafheaven will do what Deafheaven wants, and if you don’t like it, they don’t care.

As the album rolls on, Deafheaven free themselves from the arbitrary confines of metal and indulges in every creative whim they muster. There’s plenty of blast beating black metal, as you’d expect, but they aren’t shying away from their melodic side this time.

“Honeycomb” is vintage Deafheaven, shifting from shredding guitars to ambient walls of sound across an eleven-minute runtime. “Canary Yellow” returns to the coda of the opener before finally exploding into a riffy triumph. The song ends with Clark’s first use of clean vocals, which continue on the scream-less “Near.”

The heaviest they get is “Glint,” complete with rapidfire blast beats and a fret-burning guitar solo. But even this track is far from the heavy metal compensation they tried on New Bermuda. Instead, it’s closer to the second half of Sunbather. “Night People” is another melodic tune, led entirely by piano and the guest vocals of Chelsea Wolfe and producer Ben Chisholm. “Worthless Animal” closes the album with a patient build through melancholy post rock into triumphant blackgaze.

From the opening piano figure to the closing fadeout, this entire record is unmistakably Deafheaven. It is the work of a group with a singularly unique voice. And while they may have taken a misstep a couple years ago, they are back to do what only they can do. Time will tell if Ordinary Corrupt Human Love will be as timeless as Sunbather, but at this point, it’s obvious that it is just as adventurous.