Gratitude. It’s a word that Dance Gavin Dance return to often – and with good reason. Because few words encapsulate the mood in the band as they prepare to lift the veil on the latest era in their storied career. Gratitude for each other. Gratitude for the journey, its lessons and the growth it affords. Gratitude for the outlet in which to express themselves creatively, with freedom and abandon. Gratitude for the fans of old and gratitude for the fans of new, without whom none of this would be possible.

Pantheon, Dance Gavin Dance’s 11th full-length record and the follow-up to 2022’s Jackpot Juicer, is a testament to and document of that gratitude. Emerging from a recent period of trauma and flux – the sudden passing of beloved longtime bassist Tim Feerick; along with various changes within the band’s lineup – it finds the newly minted quartet refocused, rejuvenated and reenergized, imbued with an unbridled energy that duly bursts from every inch of Pantheon’s 13 tracks.

Formed in Sacramento, California in 2005, Dance Gavin Dance – today comprised of vocalist/guitarist Andrew Wells, his fellow frontman Jon Mess, lead guitarist Will Swan and drummer Matthew Mingus – are a powerhouse of alternative music; true originals and originators alike, crafting an exhilarating cacophony of sounds and disparate styles that harmonizes everything from funk through metalcore to post-hardcore, pop sensibilities colliding with progressive, kaleidoscopic song structures. With four Billboard 200 Top 15 albums to their name and one of the most deeply fanatical fanbases in modern music fuelling millions of record sales and billions of streams, as the esteemed Rock Sound magazine attests: “There is no band on earth like Dance Gavin Dance.”

Pantheon is an album born first and foremost from reflection – on what Dance Gavin Dance was, is, and, crucially, could still be. It’s an astonishing listen that sees Dance Gavin Dance shift back towards the band’s heavier, more experimental beginnings. Without forgoing any of the accessibility and songcrafting craft of Jackpot Juicer and 2020’s Afterburner before it, Pantheon succeeds in sandblasting away the pop sheen that has glossed the band’s recent output to leave something altogether edgier, coarser, tactile. Lyrically, it channels thoughts and themes that are similarly abrasive. It’s a record that navigates an undercurrent of instability, frustration and exasperation, the jarring, dueling delivery of Wells and his thrillingly erratic, freeform counterpoint Mess the embodiment of Pantheon’s inner conflicts and confusion. It poses an abundance of questions while rationing its answers.

“The intention of Pantheon was to build a certain tension, without a proper resolution,” Andrew Wells says. “The world is in chaos right now, so there is a lot of solemn commentary on where we’re all headed, songs about where we find ourselves in life right now, and the classic DGD absurdism for light and relief amongst the darkness of it all.

“I think Pantheon is a testament to perseverance and the gratitude that we feel today,” Wells adds. “Being able to overcome everything that life hits you with, find your people – the people that you trust, people that you love, people that love you – and create art with them, whatever chaos the world has in store for you. It’s about getting through the hardest times, getting back to basics, and making something that you love.”