There are albums that comment on the state of things, and then there are albums that sound like the state of things. Constant Noise, the sophomore album from Teesside duo Benefits, falls squarely in the latter camp - an electrified howl from the guts of a Britain that feels like we’re permanently on the edge of collapse. The critical response has been loud, swift, and deserved, with a Metacritic score of 93, it’s currently the best-reviewed album in the world for 2025. But more importantly it’s the right album to be getting this attention. It’s rare to see a project this raw and politically urgent reach the top of the pile - but when it happens, it feels like a course correction. A national exhale. A scream you didn’t know was caught in your throat until someone else let it out.

From the very first line - “I’m looking up in awe at a mountain of shit” - you think it might be funny. It isn’t. It’s horrifyingly familiar. It’s the endless churn of online rot and public cruelty. It’s the rich getting richer, the air getting heavier, and the country getting meaner. Constant Noise doesn’t preach. It doesn’t offer answers. It just describes the emotional wreckage that so many of us are living through.

The format is simple: one guy builds deep, blistering, industrial-tinged electronic backdrops, and the other guy rants like his life depends on it. There are moments that recall Sleaford Mods or Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, but Benefits are angrier, heavier, and more emotionally naked. There’s no irony here, and no detachment. This is grief turned into noise.

Musically, it’s incredibly rich and layered, borrowing as much from classic British electronica as they do from the aggression of punk and grindcore. Lies And Fear could practically be a Discharge or Napalm Death track. But for all its fury, there’s a tragic weight to it. The reflective tracks don’t offer comfort so much as companionship. The noise of the world hasn’t quieted, but now someone else is speaking through it. Constant Noise makes you feel less alone in your overwhelm, and that’s the real power here. Benefits are channeling the best of unpleasant British music and creating a kind of public processing. A scream from the middle of the mess saying: this is what it feels to be alive right now. And somehow, that makes it more bearable.

The production throughout is meticulously crafted; while some segments embrace compression and distortion, others offer a tender, delicate reprieve. Hall’s vocals range from whispered introspections to fervent declamations, whilst the structures eschew traditional choruses, favouring fluid compositions that ebb and flow, evoking the proto-punk ethos of bands like Suicide. Terror Forever introduces jazz-inflected drumming, and the sonic landscape flits between electro beats and organic instrumentation whilst maintaining a grippingly cohesive narrative.

Constant Noise is a profound reflection on contemporary Britain - its anxieties, divisions, and fleeting moments of hope - delivered through a soundscape that’s as challenging as it is rewarding. That the album is being so widely heard is a small miracle - because it gives voice to feelings most of us can’t articulate. The horror of watching a genocide unfold, and the sickness in our bodies from too much screen time. The impotence we feel in the face of billionaires, race riots, and everything fraying at the seams. Kingsley Hall says it plainly. And the relief of hearing someone finally say it has clearly struck a nerve. Make no mistake: this is one of the most affecting releases of the year. Listening to it is like watching a truly great horror film. Not one that shocks you for sport, but one that exposes something real, and leaves you changed.