With five concept albums under their belt, Them have carved out a space where theatrical storytelling and extreme metal coexist. Now, with Psychedelic Enigma — their most daring and intricate release yet — the band dives deeper into psychological horror, progressive structure, and creative risk. Released last October 24 via Steamhammer, the record saw vocalist KK Fossor and guitarist Markus Ullrich pushing their sound to extremes, alongside legendary producer Randy Burns (Megadeth, Suicidal Tendencies)
“Psychedelic Enigma” is described as a continuation of the saga that’s spanned their previous works, yet Fossor is quick to clarify: “I wouldn’t necessarily describe it as a direct sequel. Rather, it approaches the story from a different angle, weaving together various flashbacks that are presented from another perspective.” The singer insists that fans should experience the record “in its entirety while following along with the lyric sheet” to uncover its layered narrative.
When asked about cinematic parallels to The Others or The Sixth Sense, Fossor admits the reference sheet may have oversold that angle. “That was mentioned in the info sheet, but it’s not the case that those films had any influence or that there are parallels to the story,” he explains. “I only pointed out that there’s a twist at the end of the album, similar to the ones in those films… but the films themselves actually have no connection to our album.”
Musically, Psychedelic Enigma is a relentless showcase of technicality and melody. “Melody is very important to us,” Fossor says. “That’s one of the big differences compared to a lot of other bands… Troy has this ability to consistently find a strong hook, even in songs that might seem extremely brutal on the surface.”
When the conversation turns to “Remember To Die,” perhaps the band’s most aggressive track to date, Fossor lights up: “That kind of technical old-school thrash is in my blood. It’s probably even easier for me to play a Watchtower song than an AC/DC one.” The goal, he says, “was simply to see how far we could push things in terms of heaviness while still staying true to ourselves.”
“Psychonautic State” showcases another dimension — a hybrid of progressive and thrash elements that feels both chaotic and cohesive. “I just wanted to see what it would sound like if we took that kind of style Realm or Toxik were doing back in the day and mixed it with what makes us unique,” Fossor says. “I was honestly surprised when our label suggested that track as the third single, because it’s definitely not the obvious choice.”
Songs like “The Scarlett Remains” and “Reverie” reflect the group’s obsession with structure and surprise. “I always find it important that every song has something unexpected,” he says. “The ego should always come last — but that’s something we’ve never really struggled with anyway.”
The closing trilogy — “Electric Church,” “Echoes of the Forgotten Realm,” and “Troubled Minds” — delivers an ambitious, sprawling finale. “It wasn’t the plan at all to put those tracks back-to-back,” Fossor admits. “But Troy said it just fit the story perfectly. The story really builds toward this furious finale, and it takes those three long, dynamic songs to pull it off.”
As for Markus Ullrich’s description of the album as a “technical masterpiece,” Fossor laughs. “I would honestly never call our own songs ‘masterpieces’ — that would feel a bit too arrogant,” he says. “Psychedelic Enigma is definitely not easy-listening music… There are so many different influences, and pretty much every track has shifts you wouldn’t necessarily expect.”
The production, handled in part by Randy Burns, gave the album its crushing sound. “Randy only handled the mixing and mastering, but that doesn’t diminish his contribution,” Fossor clarifies. “He envisioned a more aggressive sound that really jumps out at you — and in the end, that was exactly what we were aiming for.”
Keyboardist Richie Seibel also left a distinctive mark. “He’s always been more influenced by sounds themselves rather than lots of layers or symphonic elements,” Fossor explains. “None of us are big fans of what usually gets labeled as Symphonic Metal; to me, it always felt too cheesy.”
“Catatonia,” the record’s explosive opener, blends ferocity with memorable hooks. “It kicks off really furiously,” says Fossor. “When I’m writing, I always think in terms of the vocals. You have to leave enough space for the vocals to really unfold, but at the same time make sure the music isn’t just running on the same track with four meaningless chords.”
Visually, Psychedelic Enigma mirrors its conceptual depth. Artist Giannis Nakos created dual cover images that embody the idea of reflection and inversion. “The inside artwork was originally his suggestion for the main cover,” Fossor notes. “Then Troy came up with the idea to use that original cover on the inside, and create a similar scene — mirrored and with a different base color — as the actual cover.”
If Psychedelic Enigma feels more raw and direct than its predecessors, that’s entirely by design. “I just wanted to break out of the pattern,” Fossor says. “Fewer layers, more guitars, less of a comic feel — more serious, and in a way, more mature.”
After nearly a decade of storytelling, Them have grown from a theatrical metal project into a refined creative force. “It’s always been important to challenge ourselves, to evolve, and not just go through the motions,” Fossor reflects. “It’s not about constantly topping the last album… What matters isn’t improving on every front, but being willing to try new approaches and take some risks.”
Even the record’s enigmatic finale refuses easy interpretation. “Some will love it, others will hate it, and some won’t care at all — and I’m fine with all of that,” Fossor shrugs. “Even with the ‘explanation,’ you can’t really be sure if you’ve actually gotten a solid resolution when you hear those final words, or the voice that speaks them. I don’t even know myself.”
The mystery extends even to the band’s mirrored logo, which hints at hidden meaning. “That’s really just a reference to the mirrored reality — and maybe also a hint at something new,” Fossor teases. “But we’re definitely not converted Christians, in case anyone was wondering.”
As the saga closes, one question remains: is this truly the end? Fossor pauses, then smiles. “It definitely is an end,” he says. “And it could be the start of something completely new.”
