PRESSOur WordsOur Fucking Terms

Venomous Sin has released Venomous Sin Declares War on War, a single that turns the language of conflict against the machinery that glorifies it. The original track is joined by Venomous Sin Declares War on War (Lucien and Ravena Strikes Back). We are putting our refusal into the music: suffering deserves more than a convenient image, a patriotic sales pitch or another fucking number travelling across a screen. The title carries an intentional collision. Declaring war on war makes the language argue with itself, forcing the listener to consider what the declaration actually confronts. Our answer is the distance between the people making grand demands and the people expected to live with their consequences. The song gives us a way to push against that distance through sound, imagery and an anger we have no intention of making decorative. We are particularly interested in how quickly a person can disappear behind the framing of a story. A face becomes a statistic, grief becomes a symbol and the next headline arrives before anybody has asked what the first one left behind. The music refuses the ease of that transition. We want the human cost to remain difficult to move past, even after the convenient explanation has finished talking. Lucien and Ravena Strikes Back is identified as the alternate version, giving the central statement another treatment within the same release. The band’s world allows those different perspectives to stay connected. Listeners can follow the title through both tracks and decide which approach holds them longest. The point survives the variation because the question

Venomous Sin is speaking collectively after publishing our statement on AI cyberbullying, bureaucratic gaslighting and trauma invalidation. The connection matters: technology can amplify humiliation, while the systems expected to respond can reduce a person’s experience to an inconvenient form. We reject the idea that the person carrying the consequences should also have to perform gratitude for being dismissed. That particular fucking arrangement has had enough airtime. The source article draws on Xavi’s account of dealing with institutional pressure and the frustration of working with systems that appear to talk past the person using them. It also raises concerns about AI being used in online harassment. This release is our response to those concerns, rather than a fresh report about a specific incident. The position we are taking is ours to own. A tool’s reach does not make its output wise. An automated answer does not become understanding merely because it sounds calm. When somebody’s words are twisted into material for a digital pile-on, the humiliation is not made harmless by the fact that a machine helped produce it. Equally, handing someone a polished generic response does not resolve the problem they actually brought to the table. Venomous Sin works with AI, so this criticism comes from inside the creative process. We want tools that serve the work and people who remain responsible for how those tools are used. The music gives us another way to answer: Basement Rats Keyboard Warrior Scum turns our contempt toward screen-protected cruelty, while the wider catalogue carries the refusal to accept somebody else’s convenient description

Venomous Sin has released Lucy’s Lust Inferno, a four-track single release that gives December a dramatically less innocent companion. Slut Lucy’s Lust Inferno opens the collection, followed by They Attacked, Now We Declare Fucking War, Happy Fucking Birthday and Happy Fucking Birthday (Macabre’s Aggression). We have supplied several possible reasons for the seasonal gathering to lose control of its carefully rehearsed fucking mood. The release holds its ideas close together without pretending they are identical. The inferno promised in the title shares space with retaliation and a birthday greeting delivered in a distinctly Venomous Sin vocabulary. That mixture is part of the appeal. A short collection can move from provocative theatre to a confrontational declaration and still have enough personality left to make the next celebration nervous. We enjoy the way an apparently familiar occasion changes when its language is allowed to misbehave. December already arrives carrying expectations about warmth, ceremony and how everyone should feel. A title like Lucy’s Lust Inferno sends a different invitation. It leaves room for dark humour, adult irreverence and the satisfaction of stepping outside the polite emotional costume somebody else laid out for the evening. Happy Fucking Birthday appears twice, with Macabre’s Aggression clearly identified as its alternate version. The connection gives listeners a small conversation inside the release: one greeting, another treatment, and no requirement to decide that a celebration must sound the same every time. The band’s changing moods belong in the songs. Sinners are allowed to recognise more than one of them in themselves. Lucy’s Lust Inferno is now part of

Venomous Sin has released Zero Fucks Given, a seven-track single release with an opening statement that leaves very little room for misunderstanding: We’re Not Back, We Fucking Attack! The title track follows, joined by Discount Parasites and Bargain Sluts, Thank You for Your Service, Now Shut Up and three Swedish entries. This collection has arrived carrying its own opinion of the arrangements, and it is not waiting for a fucking welcome committee. Zero Fucks Given is an attitude toward the demand for approval, rather than a claim that nothing matters. Plenty matters enough to make songs about it. What we are refusing is the endless performance of making that concern acceptable to people who would prefer us quieter, easier to package and less likely to notice the transaction underneath the compliments. The tracklist lets that refusal take several forms. Discount Parasites and Bargain Sluts and Thank You for Your Service, Now Shut Up put sharply different phrases beside the central title. Döda älgar värmer nu mitt kalla hjärta and Flå Gåsjäveln give the Swedish end of the collection its own blackly comic temperature. Flå Gåsjäveln (The Lord’s Version) closes the list with an explicitly identified alternate treatment. We like the range that leaves inside a relatively compact release. Confrontation can sit beside absurdity. A bitter phrase can be followed by a joke with terrible manners. Venomous Sin’s identity does not depend on pretending every track was produced in exactly the same emotional weather. The consistency comes from choosing the words ourselves and allowing each idea to keep the mood that

Venomous Sin has released Trick or Threat (Halloween Horror Show), our twelve-track invitation to spend Halloween somewhere less obedient. The collection opens with an Intro, closes with an Outro and fills the space between them with witches, vampires, romantic misfortune and the kind of seasonal nonsense that deserves its own cursed soundtrack. We have come for the atmosphere, the absurdity and the pleasure of taking the fucking costume seriously. Holloween: Witch-Pumpkin, Ghosted by a Poltergeist in Spooktober and Coffin Candy announce several different ways into the show. The titles allow the ridiculous and the sinister to share the same stage. That balance matters to us. A horror setting can be playful, seductive, unsettling or completely unreasonable without losing the mood that made us want to enter it. Vampires Don’t Bleed (But You Do) and Wasting My Life With a Corpse Bride bring other kinds of trouble into the collection. The album also moves through Häxblood, Hexenlust and Dia de La Brujeria (Dia de los muertos Divinas). These names belong to the release itself, giving the show its own vocabulary rather than borrowing a generic bag of Halloween slogans and hoping a skull will do the remaining work. Our catalogue has always had room for changing moods. This record is another reminder that Venomous Sin does not need to be delivering a social indictment every time we open our mouths. Sometimes we want to build a whole evening around a strange idea and see how much personality it can hold. Darkness becomes more interesting when it is allowed to laugh at

Venomous Sin has released Ditch This, You Hollow Fuck!, a single whose title refuses to spend its first breath making the confrontation comfortable. We wanted a statement with a boundary in it: the moment when somebody has finished negotiating with emptiness, pretence or a relationship to the world that keeps demanding more while offering nothing of substance in return. There are occasions when the polite preamble has already lasted far too fucking long. The release takes its name from its track, keeping the central phrase in full view. That directness gives the song its own place in our catalogue. There is no elaborate sequence of alternate titles to navigate here. The point is the encounter with this particular piece and the attitude it brings to the conversation, wherever the listener decides that attitude belongs in their own life. Hollow is a useful word because it reaches beyond the loudness of a person’s performance. Somebody can occupy every available inch of attention and still offer very little honesty. They can have an answer for everything except the question that actually matters. Venomous Sin has plenty of interest in that gap between the impression being sold and the substance that fails to arrive with it. Our answer comes through the work we choose to make. Xavi and Lina have built a creative world capable of carrying contempt without turning every difficult feeling into a tidy lesson. Sometimes a song needs to leave the splinter in place. Sinners can recognise their own reasons for that feeling without us pretending to know the details

Venomous Sin has released Mirror Mirror, a single built around a title that leaves plenty of room for an uncomfortable encounter with yourself. A reflection can be reassuring, infuriating, seductive or stubbornly unhelpful. We like the tension in that simple image. The person looking and the image being judged occupy the same small space, while the rest of the world somehow keeps trying to insert its fucking opinion. Mirror Mirror stands as its own release in our catalogue. The repeated title gives the listener a familiar doorway without dictating everything they are supposed to find behind it. We wanted to keep that opening available. A song can offer a strong image and still allow different people to bring different questions to it, particularly when the subject is something as loaded as being seen. The idea has a natural connection to Venomous Sin’s world. Xavi and Lina have both made choices about identity and expression that are visible before anybody hears a word from them. The gothic and metal imagery belongs to those choices. Looking like yourself can carry a meaning that disappears when other people reduce the entire question to whether the result meets their personal standard of acceptability. The mirror also leaves room for contradiction. Confidence can coexist with doubt. Enjoying how you look does not require pretending you never question it. We are interested in that unsettled space because music can hold it without demanding a quick verdict. Sinners get enough invitations to perform a finished, easily described personality elsewhere. Our songs can afford to leave the argument

Venomous Sin has released Venomous Zoo, a twenty-track single release with a deeply unreasonable population. Bamboo Massacre and This is a Cow-Spiracy now stand among flamingos, reindeer, dust mites and other creatures that should probably have checked the name on the gate before moving in. We wanted an animal-themed collection with enough bad ideas to sustain its own ecosystem. The result is gloriously fucking overcrowded. Twenty tracks is a frankly unreasonable amount of wildlife to cram into one release. We kept finding another creature that deserved a song, another appalling pun that refused to die quietly. We Eat Mascots Alive, Flamingo Execution and The Hive Must Die establish the zoo’s hospitality standards early. From there, the titles keep finding new ways to turn familiar creatures into blackly comic trouble. Neighsayer’s Cursed Burger, What the Neck and Disobey the Beak lean into the wordplay. Fluffy Impurrfect Little Bastard and Mans Worst Enemy Sit Happens! take another route through the same unhelpful wildlife guide. These are fictional musical grotesques with their tongues firmly between their teeth. The fun is in stretching the premise until the supposedly harmless starting point barely recognises itself. Venomous Sin makes room for that kind of absurdity because a creative world needs more than one emotional setting. We can confront hypocrisy elsewhere in the catalogue and still spend an entire release entertaining an appalling pun about an animal. Sinners are allowed to laugh. The vocabulary, the exaggerated titles and the sheer persistence of the joke are part of what this collection offers. Venomous Zoo is loose in our

Venomous Sin has released This is a Cow-Spiracy, a single that takes an appalling animal pun seriously enough to give it music and a cover. The title track is joined by an alternate treatment associated with Sylvana. We have brought a suspicious cow into the catalogue, and the initial evidence suggests the entire pasture may be involved. Whatever sensible idea was meant to happen here has clearly been fucking diverted. The pleasure is in committing to the absurdity. A familiar animal becomes the centre of an exaggerated mystery simply because the language has found a way to make it happen. We enjoy that kind of wordplay when it opens a small world rather than functioning as a disposable caption. Once the title exists, it starts inviting questions that no respectable agricultural publication should be expected to answer. This release belongs to the playful side of Venomous Sin. The band can be furious about conformity and still find time to entertain something gloriously stupid. We do not see those moods as enemies. Both depend on following the idea far enough to make something of our own, even when the sensible response would have been to shake our heads and move along. The alternate treatment gives the central joke another way to speak within the same release. Sinners can listen to the versions together and decide how the premise changes between them. The point is to enjoy the character of this particular piece, rather than force every song in our world to deliver a grand moral position. Some ideas arrive with a

Venomous Sin has released our declaration against elitist bullshit, and we want its target understood clearly: the belief that status makes somebody entitled to treat other people as disposable. Money, a job title, expensive taste or a carefully maintained social circle can buy plenty of things. They cannot buy a better class of human being. We will keep saying that with our boots on. The longer statement moves between politics, workplaces and ordinary encounters because the same attitude survives at every scale. A politician talking down to the public and a manager humiliating an employee do not need identical powers to share a rotten assumption. Both can mistake their position for proof that the person opposite them deserves less respect. The costume changes. The contempt remains painfully familiar. We are not asking sinners to apologise for knowing things, making things or taking pride in their work. Skill has substance. Elitism needs an audience beneath it. The distinction matters to a band whose world is built by turning overlooked experiences into something loud enough to occupy space. Xavi and Lina did not create Venomous Sin to rehearse the same hierarchy with different faces at the top. Our music has already carried this refusal through We’re Not Angry, We Declare Fucking War and No Throne for Disgusting Bastards. This press statement connects that attitude to the argument we have now published. The theatrical warfare belongs to the songs and the language. The everyday action is straightforward: challenge the sneer, question the supposed authority and stop confusing an impressive introduction with a worthwhile