El Mundo Frio is the group's sleekest production yet, however, which somewhat tempers the bleakness. Ten minutes of slowly strummed shimmer unfurls before Chew's dungeon-rattling kick drum bursts forth, followed by Hevi's croak, sounding like a dragon mid-gargle. The Spanish-sung vocals (a Corrupted trademark) allude to political genocides, destroyed generations, and dictators. Midway through the 72-minute epic, as minor chords creep along, the band ebbs away. Gravity returns like raining brimstone, but at Hevi's gurgle about "un momento tranquilo," filigrees of harp usher out the album's finale. It's the last bit of warmth before the chill of the real world returns.