Degradation in the Hyperreal marks a defining point for Denver-born, now New Jersey–based hardcore infused metal band The Munsens. Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Felipe Patino at Green Door Recordings between January and March 2024, the album captures years of evolution compressed into one dense, deliberate statement.
Written over a long stretch of time—some songs date back to 2018—it reflects both distance and persistence. “We have early demos of some of these tracks from around the time we recorded our last album ‘Unhanded,’” the band explains. “Other tracks we wrote not long before we entered the studio.” The extended gap, they add, gave them room to experiment and refine in ways they hadn’t before.
Though geography worked against them—Michael based in California, Shaun and Graham in Colorado—the separation shaped the record’s texture. With only sporadic performances in Denver and a few festival appearances, writing became a slow, layered process. “This time enabled us to bring all sorts of interests to bear on this record,” they note, describing how the mix of years, locations, and moods led to an unplanned variation in tone and structure. “We made a more deliberate effort to vary song structures, lengths, and the keys each song was written in.” The band also introduced keys and original soundscapes to widen their sonic range beyond the core trio of guitar, bass, and drums.
Graham’s arrival in 2016 cemented what the group calls their truest form. “We had an idea of the band we wanted to be and the albums we wanted to make,” Michael says. “We took steps toward that vision with our last release but this new album is the truest representation of that sound to date.” Faster, more aggressive, yet more cohesive, the album distills everything they’ve built toward since “Unhanded.”
The visual language mirrors that shift. Michael Goodwin recalls how the artwork took shape after visiting an exhibition of Flemish painters. “I had some of Bruegel’s work in mind, particularly pieces that featured large scenes with many absurd characters,” he says. The band eventually chose a piece by Serhat Alparslan, drawn to its surreal complexity and contrast with typical metal imagery. “We wanted a cover that was both different in style from the covers of our previous releases, and distinct from many other metal album covers.”
Lyrically, the record moves between reflection and resistance. Songs like “Eternal Grasp” and “Sacred Ivory” stretch back to earlier sessions but now carry sharpened meaning. “Eternal Grasp” uses a metaphor for mental anguish and depression, while “Sacred Ivory” served as a preview of the band’s newer material when it was released as a single in 2023. “Drauga” takes its name from an Old Persian word meaning “the lie,” and turns that discovery into a meditation on deceit and distortion. “Scaling Ceauşescu’s Balcony” reframes a dictator’s failed speech into an allegory of disconnect and collapse.
There’s a personal undercurrent too. “Vesper” is a dedication to a close friend who took his own life, written on one of his acoustic guitars. “He was a huge reason my brother and I play music,” Shaun says. “It started as the intro to ‘The Knife,’ but eventually took on a life of its own.” “The Knife,” the album’s last written track, channels physical and emotional strain through relentless pace and cathartic defiance. “I was dealing with some health issues that brought me back to doctors’ offices and operating rooms many times,” Shaun explains. “Mortality is often on the mind when you’re pushed in and out of consciousness on a gurney and left with messy recoveries. So this can be a song for them — a chance to tell ‘the knife’ to fuck off.”
The closing track, “I Avow,” stands apart — recorded solo by Shaun in Denver after studio sessions wrapped. A minimalist piano piece drawn from an old sketch, it closes the album with quiet resolution. “I probably did over 50 takes on our semi-tuned piano,” he says. “I ended up choosing the first take. It often seems to work out like that.”
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“Degradation in the Hyperreal” gathers six years of distance, movement, and introspection into one record. It’s the sound of a band taking its time, refusing to rush, and arriving at something heavier because of it.
Catch the band live at one of their record release shows:
November 15, 2025 — Denver, CO
November 22, 2025 — Asbury Park, NJ
Read the band’s full track-by-track commentary below.
Eternal Grasp
Shaun Goodwin (guitar / vox): We started writing this one back in 2018 right after we recorded our ‘Unhanded’ LP and have been playing it in our set for a few years with varying titles. There wasn’t much debate about using it as the first track on the album – it’s a great opener. The title is a metaphor for mental anguish and depression.
Sacred Ivory
Michael Goodwin (bass / vox): We released this song as a single in January of 2023. It offered a look into the new music we were writing and we figured we’d soon follow it up with the full length. “Soon” ended up being fall 2025, but here we are.
Drauga
Michael Goodwin (bass / vox): I came across the Old Persian word “Drauga” in a book and was struck by it. The word itself was intriguing and the meaning, roughly “the lie,” made a fitting title for something I was writing. We’d been jamming this song for a while without vocals, experimenting with arrangement. Sometimes I write lyrics specifically for a song, for others I revisit unpublished writing to find something that I think fits. In this case, it was the latter, and I ended up rewriting the back half of the poem to better fit the structure and cadence I had in mind for the song.
Scaling Ceauşescu’s Balcony
Michael Goodwin (bass / vox): A reimagination of Ceauşescu’s December 1989 speech, one he famously botched, and a paradigmatic example of ruling class disconnect.
Supreme Death
Michael Goodwin (bass / vox): Thematically, I played with an idea spurred by Saramago’s Death at Intervals. This was another one that evolved and took many forms over years. I can remember walking around Colfax and Capitol Hill during the summer of 2020 when Covid had shut the city down, listening to early live recordings of what became this song. We really wanted the crescendos in the back half of the song to land a certain way.
Vesper
Shaun Goodwin (guitar / vox): This track is a dedication to someone close to us who took his own life. He was a huge reason my brother and I play music, and I wrote this on one of his acoustic guitars after he passed. It started as the intro to “The Knife,” but eventually took on a life of its own so we split them into separate tracks.
The Knife
Shaun Goodwin (guitar / vox): This was the last track we wrote for the album and, like songs often do, it morphed quite a bit as we started to demo it. I love how chaotic it feels – it remains full speed for nearly five minutes, unlike most of our songs that have some kind of breathing room.
When writing the lyrics for this song, I was in the middle of dealing with some health issues that brought me back to doctors’ offices and operating rooms many times. Unfortunately, I landed into the hands of, what turned out to be, a shitty surgeon. I’m okay now, but mortality is often on the mind when you’re pushed in and out of consciousness on a gurney and left with messy recoveries. There are so many people who deal with this on a daily basis and don’t get to move past their diagnoses. So this can be a song for them – a chance to tell “the knife” to fuck off.
I Avow
Shaun Goodwin (guitar / vox): “I Avow” is the only track recorded outside of Greendoor Recordings. I recorded this one at home in Denver shortly after we finished our studio time. The piano piece is a loose arrangement of something I had written many years ago. I probably did over 50 takes on our semi-tuned piano, jamming it a little differently each time, and ended up choosing the first take. It often seems to work out like that.
