The origin of Art of Heartwork is unremarkable on the surface: a chance meeting in early 2022 at an “Ex-Emo Meetup” in Serbia, where Filip Stojiljkovic and Gavrilo connected over a shared musical language.
One mentioned a solo project — Eva Ras — not knowing the other was behind it. The coincidence was brief but pivotal. A week or two later, the idea of forming a band was proposed, and that proposal became a commitment.
What followed was a summer show, a series of lineup shifts, some searching for identity, and finally, a name — drawn from a Saetia lyric, but chosen for how it landed in their mouths, how it felt when spoken. Art of Heartwork was the sound of something breaking and being left that way.
Now based in Belgrade and Vrsac, Serbia, the band’s debut is steeped in heavy textures and personal weight. “There wasn’t a strict concept going in — most of it was intuitive, shaped by personal experience,” says Filip. The EP tackles abuse, trauma, and skewed power relations — sometimes interpersonal, sometimes societal. It’s reflective but never indulgent, unflinching in tone.
“Say Something,” “Truce,” “Scorched,” and “Salt This Earth Behind You” channel emotional neglect and betrayal — “the process of recovery” becoming central, not redemption. There’s no romanticizing the damage, only confrontation and exposure.
“Evil Is…” marks a thematic pivot, diving into tackling Nationalism and the justifications for violence dressed in patriotism. “It’s it’s very problematic, especially in our region.” Filip notes, giving the track a different kind of weight — politically charged and regionally rooted, without posturing.
“Neckbreaker” breaks from nuance altogether. “It’s just straight-to-the-point deathcore chaos.” No metaphor, just pummel.
Sonically, the record fuses early 2000s screamo and heavier metalcore, refusing to polish out the tension. Melody is used tactically, breakdowns hit without warning, and the structure resists comfort. It’s not about novelty — it’s about urgency.
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Filip handled all lyrics and artwork. It’s a personal release by design, but the execution avoids solipsism. It’s lived-in, not performative.
The band plans to stay active through the year, with more shows across Serbia and the surrounding region — Croatia, Slovenia, and potentially beyond. There’s mention of a possible split with another Belgrade band before the year’s up, and a clear interest in hitting DIY festivals where this kind of music still breathes.
They’re also considering a physical release. “We’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into this for years and look how far we’ve come,” they said in a recent message, hinting at what’s next.
Evil Is Never in the Eye of the Beholder speaks plainly and hits hard. It’s metalcore shaped by where it’s from and what it refuses to forget.
