The Architects of Guilt is not a sing-a-long or a feel good record; it's the death rattle and dying breath. The Famine is not here to win popularity contests, simply create metal, red in tooth and claw. The music has become faster, more technical, even abrasive and discomforting, trading shear aggression and energy for the lifeless sweeps and mechanized beats that have come to dominate and dilute the genre. The lyrics forego empty threats and skip the subtleties, calling out the deceit and duplicity of our leaders, and the decay next door masked by a flaking white picket fence and a familiar chemical scent. The band traces the fractures in stone pillars and cracks along the marble walls, sets their tools down after eleven tracks and walks away as if saying, 'Don't come to us when the temple falls.'