It’s no secret that the lines demarcating metal have blurred as of late. From Alcest and Deafheaven‘s fascination with shoegaze and post rock to Zeal and Ardor’s melding of black metal and black spirituals, the sonics of heavy metal have never been less sacred.

It’s a tough time to be a metal purist. Luckily, I am not—at all. And good thing too, because if I were, I would have likely put up my noise at the brilliant genre-bending catharsis from Belgium power trio Brutus.

Nest is a powerful work melding the delicacy of post rock, the fury of d-beat hardcore punk, and the blistering passion of heavy metal. In the last few years, they’ve toured with a similar range of artists: most notably Russian Circles, Chelsea Wolfe, and Thrice. While tourmates may not offer much in the way of comparison (I once saw mewithoutYou with Thursday and Minus the Bear), that cross section offers a pretty telling summation of their sound.

While every member of the band is impressive, the most obviously entrancing is vocalist slash drummer Stefanie Mannaerts. Her voice ranges from roaring crescendos to acidic shouts to near-tear chokes, all while she pounds masterfully on the kit. Stijn Vanhoegaerden’s guitar tones follow suit, shifting his focus from riffs to texture depending on his mood. Comparing bass to thunder is a pretty common cliche, but it’s really the only way to describe the way Peter Mulders manipulates his low end.

The best microcosm for Nest is the A-side closer “War,” and while I don’t usually link to live videos here, this particular performance serves as the best introduction to the group. The song opens with a clean arpeggiated guitar figure, Mannaerts crooning mournfully over it, her voice close to cracking. Then halfway through, the song erupts. Vanhoegaerden’s guitar moves to a fiery tremolo line while Mannaerts adds a punishing beat. The song then shifts to a straightforward punk beat for a few bars before slowing down to halftime and reprising the melody of the first section over a heavy shoegaze section, finally quieting down again in the closing moments.

It’s one of the best tracks of the year, but one great track doesn’t make a great album. Luckily, Brutus hits those same notes throughout the record without ever feeling like unsatisfying remixes of the best song. “Fire” opens with an ominous swell of ambience that bursts into a punk barnburner. “Cemetry” is as close to straightforward as this record gets, landing in a mostly traditional hardcore, largely thanks to Mannaerts’ near-screamed vocals. “Space” is almost a pop song, with a shuffling drum beat, singalong melody, and nearly jubilant finale. The eight-minute closer “Sugar Dragon” is the only song to stretch past the five-minute mark, shifting from a wordless post-metal groove to a delicate, heart wrenching verse, bursting into black metal catharsis before the track fades to close.

The obvious comparison is Oathbreaker, but maybe only because they’re another female-led Belgian metal band. Brutus is far more economical, keeping their songs tight and their grooves tighter. While they draw from the same wells of post-metal and sludge as many other experimental metal acts, their ethos is much more in line with punk’s quick, aggressive fury rather than sludge’s brooding menace. When the record closes, the only dissatisfaction is that it doesn’t last longer. Its 42 minute run time feels much shorter than it is, rushing past like a tornado, destroying everything in its path and leaving you bewildered.