REVIEW: EXHUMED - NECROCRACY

I bought Gore Metal from a little tattoo shop that carried Relapse releases due to the success of local deathheads Skinless. I was a freshman in high school and more curious than passionate about death metal. If you know someone who’s on the fence about extreme music one of the most persuasive things you can do is have them listen to a few songs written by Matt Harvey. As a Mets fan I will clarify: The founder of Exhumed, not the All-Star pitcher/nude model of the same name.

Exhumed again triumphs over significant lineup changes, this time welcoming back past-bassist Bud Burke as a guitarist. While the supporting cast is formidable (especially Mike Hamilton, also of Deeds of Flesh), this is a horrorshow that always hinged on the performance of its founder. Always honest about the pop song structures of his blood-drenched compositions, Harvey has understands the power of a good (meat)hook. On their newest release, Necrocracy, Exhumed display the melodic tendencies of Anatomy Is Destiny, the tight songwriting of Slaughtercult and All Guts, No Glory, and the sheer brutality of Gore Metal. We hear all the time that bands are borrowing elements from their entire discography while working towards a sound that’s entirely new, and 90% of the time it’s a load of zombie shit. But Necrocracy is not zombie shit; it’s looking backwards at their history of jubilant bloodshed, then stepping forward.

Kicking off with “Coins Upon the Eyes,” Exhumed blast into their dual growl/snarl attack and deliver the first memorable chorus on the album, hinting where vocal melody might exist if this wasn’t death metal. Other memorable hooks include “Dysmorphic,” which features a Carcass-esque groove fit for a marauding gang of re-animated bikers, and “The Shape of Deaths To Come,” a slick powerhouse song that throws razor sharp At the Gates riffs into the cannibalistic fray. Fans who are particularly hungry for bile-puking grind will devour “Sickened” and “Carrion Call,” which could both chainsaw-duel classics like “Necromaniac” and “Limb From Limb” for supremacy. The album closes strongly with “The Rotting,” with riffs that carve flesh from the bone before settling into a mid-tempo prowl and fading thrash.

I even hesitate to mention this, but I also noticed how similar a few songs felt to the most intense moments of Cradle of Filth’s Midian. From the abyss-scraping growl to the higher-pitched shrieks and the muscular mid-tempo guitarwork, I was just amazed at how comparable elements can deviate due to the direction of one visionary participant (Matt Harvey/Dani Filth). That isn’t saying Exhumed will end up writing songs about mysterious pale women exploring their bloodlusts in foggy woodlands, it’s just interesting how metal can intersect and then speed away from itself.

Like always, Exhumed have a great balance of catchy and disciplined songwriting, brutal technicality, and a macabre sense of fun that continues to scratch, claw, and feast their way to the top of the death metal food chain. This album proves once again that Californian death metal is as mean and nasty as the best examples from any other location, because the constant sun makes the corpses rot faster.

Necrocracy comes out in North America on August 6th, so save your lunch money, creeps. For more info on the band (including merch and upcoming tour dates with Dying Fetus), check out their page at Relapse Records: http://www.relapse.com/label/artist/exhumed.html

And if you want to yell at me for the Cradle of Filth comparison feel free to send me angry Tweets (@MisterGrowl) or hate mails (mistergrowlblog (at) gmail (dot com)).

GUEST REVIEW: P.O.O.R. - EXTINCTION OF TRUST

Continuing our series of metal reviews by non-metal fans, Mister Growl welcomes back guest reviewer Shane Frasier, Acquired Taste Booking owner and creator of the Behemoth Music Festival (a series of concerts in Upstate New York that recently reached down into Brooklyn). He has also been a member of roughly seven thousand bands, ranging from hardcore punk (Daytime Soiree) to electronic/dance music (Mr. Owl) to eccentric insanity (The Lanky Mofos and The Bumblebees). He was nice enough to accept our invitation and review the new release from P.O.O.R. (Point of Our Resistance), their album Exttinction of Trust. With the NSA ‘bating while listening to our calls and reading our e-mails and more toxins filling our food every day it’s a perfect time to listen to this album:

“I always thought the saying, 'It's the little things in life', was bullshit. Really? Are you really content with the little things in life? If a gentle breeze whiffed by your face for a few seconds on a brutally hot summer day would you really say to yourself, 'That made my day'? No, you wouldn't, and don't lie to me, because I know who you and know where you live and will make you tell the truth. But, for the first time ever, I found myself uttering this phrase while listening to P.O.O.R's album, Extinction Of Trust.

What I am trying to say here is that you don't need to be fancy in order to deliver good music, and P.O.O.R does it well. Fitting itself somewhere between thrash, grindcore and hardcore, Extinction Of Trust passes you by quickly (Not having a song longer than 2:26), but leaves a fun, lasting impression because of the obvious joy these guys clearly had making this music.

The album is comprised of 24 tracks, each one more mosh-pit inducing than the last.  “Bastard Complex,” “Flip The Scripture” and “Your Bullshit” remain my favorite tracks on the album, delivering quick hardcore punk ditties in an otherwise growly thrash album, which, I must admit, is a welcome addition if for any other reason than I am a huge hardcore punk fan. That's not to say I don't appreciate the other songs, on the contrary, they're all great, I just have to make my loyalties clear sometimes.

Songs like a “A Man Called Disease” often wake you up to the fact that you are listening to a grindcore album, but the fact that every song is different in a way really makes you love what these guys are doing. One second “Christian Science Fiction” makes you wonder if you're listening to a metal-influenced tough-guy hardcore band then, like clockwork, a song like “Cherrorizer” smacks you in the face waking you back up to the fact that the grindcore roots of the album are back into full swing. Also, putting one of the biggest smiles on my face is the cover of “Religious Vomit,” a Dead Kennedys song. Being a huge Dead Kennedys fan, I find myself embarrassed saying that I kind of prefer P.O.O.R's version more. I think my only problem with the album is that it ends, and I know that might come across as a cliched answer, but I could care less. It's how I feel. I didn't want this album to stop playing when it did.

Overall, P.O.O.R's Extinction Of Trust totally made my day. It's a wake up call, and a welcome one at that, knowing music like this is out there. Too often are we shoveled the same genre-sticking music day in and day out, knowing full well that, somewhere out there, a diamond in the rough awaits our discovery. If you have a soul, you'll love this album. If not, you'll be crying in your bedroom by yourself, slamming your head against the wall wishing you had a soul so you could like this album.”

- Shane Frasier

(Editor’s note: I also wanted to mention that Matt Harvey from Exhumed also appears for guest vocals and solos. I will be reviewing Exhumed’s Necrocracy sometime over the next week.)

Many thanks to Shane for covering this release, and YAY we finally landed a positive review from outside of the metal community. Sure, maybe I cheated a little, knowing he was a Dead Kennedys/Minor Threat fan and hearing a lot of that influence deep in the belly of this grinding punk album, but I digress.

Stream Extinction of Trust over here at Bandcamp and buy it for a totally modest $7 to support these Californians:  http://poorgrind.bandcamp.com/album/extinction-of-trust

And follow them on Facebook for touring news and info on future releases:  https://www.facebook.com/POORGRIND

INTERVIEW: CHRISTIAN of TITTYFUCKER

Kung Fu Breakfast editor-in-chief Jay Kantor sent me exploring the darkest caverns of the internet for information on a San Diego, CA band subtly named TittyFucker. They were a grind trio who played totally in the buff (apart from ski masks, which looked way cooler on them than on the bikini clad human props in Spring Breakers). I use the past tense because as soon as I discovered them they had announced their final show. Fascinated with the concept, I reached out to Christian, drummer/composer/co-founder of the band. Read on for descriptions of explicit nudity, betrayal, and Christian’s account of the band’s rowdy/randy shows and their future prospects:

Mr. Growl: The wisdom of the internet tells me TittyFucker was formed in 2011. How did all of the members meet?

Christian: We did indeed form in 2011 and started off in the Chula Vista House Show scene.

As for our history, I grew up with the vocalist Charlene here in San Diego. In fact she is still my neighbor. As for Andrea, I actually met her at an Ecstasy party. That was a crazy evening/morning.

Mr. Growl: Who was the first to pitch the idea of "Bare Naked Grind Violence" and how did you all decide to move forward in that direction?

Christian: It was I, as me and Charlene always took nude photographs of us and our friends for her nudist collective "La Vita". I figured since we are so desensitized to being buck-ass nude in public - why not do it in a band for the sake of an aesthetic statement? That statement being that we "don't give a fuck."

Mr. Growl: Apart from that aesthetic statement, how would you describe the attitude of TittyFucker?

Christian: Well, I'll speak for myself; I do not fear the judgements nor the restrictions that people will hold against me.

As for the other members I can say that Andrea had agreed upon that before in another interview. As for my vocalist, after I left the band, she said - "We milked it for a couple months." That could mean anything.

Mr. Growl: Your Facebook page has an awesomely detailed list of musical influences for each member. Who were your inspirations from a performance aspect?

Christian: For me, GG Allin is somewhat a dead give away for rockin' out with my cock out and the message that you can do whatever you want. I will also include Maniac from Mayhem for the self-mutilation and fear instilling theatrics.

Mr. Growl: How would you describe general crowd reaction to your band?

Christian: Angry, aroused, impressed, disturbed, and inspired according to the conversations that I've had post-performances.

Mr. Growl: Were there any horror stories where the crowd was out of line during a show?

Christian: Never. At least things you wouldn't expect at grind-violence show in the buff - such as - objects being thrown at us; overly hyped crowds that knock over the equipment; perverted cat calls... Yeah. All standard for TITTYFUCKER.

Mr. Growl: It looks like after a while you started playing with ski masks. Was this purely an aesthetic choice or have you had trouble with law enforcement and protecting your identities?

Christian: It's a 50/50 blend of theatrics and practicality. You see, it was my idea due to Charlene complaining about all the photos people would post online. So I suggested we'd wear ski masks since photos are inevitable. Plus on both my and Andrea's part, we figured it'd be safe to keep our band life, and work life separated within hidden identities.

Mr. Growl: Could you describe your local scene and how your location influenced the band's sound and approach?

Christian: It's generally White Boy Reggae bands all day everyday. As for the punk/metal/indie scene, it's young and will forever be in the maggot stage since this town is constantly in and out with tourists. The DIY spaces are mediocre, and vain with the exception of a great place called The Steinhaus. It's hard to book underground touring bands here for a reason - it's just a scene/market. It's not a way of life as music should be.

Mr. Growl: You recently announced that the band will be breaking up after your show on June 7th. What factors resulted in this decision?

Christian: Terrible band etiquette that fans and friends would complain about is one factor (horrible punctuality and snootiness for example), and the fact that Charlene was embezzling the band funds behind my back. Let alone lying about its whereabouts, I just can't be in a band with someone that I can't trust nor rely upon. After the fact that I wrote all the music, and lyrics; designed the art for our shirts and vinyl, did equipment tech (they couldn't tune a guitar to save their lives) I couldn't bear such an amount of greedy disrespect like that. The integrity was not there.

Mr. Growl: What do you each have planned after Titty Fucker's last show, short and long-term?

Christian: I know the girls are doing what they call "Folk-Metal.” I quote-end-quoted that because it's not the majestic Folk-Metal we all know, it's more like that angsty Folk-Punk stuff mixed with Metalcore according to my assumption. I think they recruiting members and will continue to play naked.

As for myself, I have my band CELL. To give you an idea, we sound as if Dystopia, Darkthrone, and Converge spliced their DNA, and developed the final product in the womb of SUNN O))). We're chiseling the tracks to our debut EP which will be released on vinyl and tapes within 2013.

Editor: How bad ass does this dude’s new band sound? Will definitely follow up with more information on CELL as I receive it. Many thanks to Christian for taking the time to answer our questions. I also have to say that the name of the picture above the interview (Christian TittyFucker) is my favorite JPEG name ever.

Check out a track over at Bandcamp to see what you missed:  http://tittyfucker.bandcamp.com/

REVIEW: TRAPPED WITHIN BURNING MACHINERY - THE PUTRID STENCH OF DECAYING SELF

Okay, so the band name doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, and I was mostly expecting some harsh industrial music, just because I’m a dope and the word “Machinery” is in it. If someone played this album for me and asked me to guess a band name based on the music I would blurt out, “Rotting Lamentation.” As you can see, there’s a reason nobody comes to me to name bands anymore. My last suggestion was Nuncuddle.

Trapped Within Burning Machinery play dense, somber music that incorporates equal parts blackened doom, trudging death, and the most sluggish sludge. Honestly, I didn’t expect so much melody and so many gentle moments from an album with both “stench” and “decaying” in the title. As you can see, I judge books by their covers like it’s my god damn job, because it occasionally is. This is one instance where the element of surprise was very appreciated by this dreary reviewer. I’m not sure if they have bogs in Moreno Valley, CA, but this music feels like it rose from the muck of a long-forgotten cemetery that sunk into swamplands long ago, and these songs are the spirits clawing their way through the moss and algae. It’s powerful stuff, in turns heavy and harmonious, all driven by an enormous wall of darkened guitar fuzz and the strangled, chilling scream of Zak Esparza.

“Parasitic Mind Decomposition” actually alarmed me a bit, as I had a friend overcome brain surgery following an infestation of pork parasites in his brain. It’s one of those insane ultra-metal moments that thankfully had the happiest ending possible with his recovery, and now finally (thanks to this band) has an official soundtrack. “Smoldering Enclave” features thick, meaty riffs that remind me of Pungent Stench’s best work on For God Your Soul, For Me Your Flesh before quieting the assault to a whisper during a disarmingly soft interlude. “Industrial Snuff,” besides being an awesome title that Shin'ya Tsukamoto should totally steal for another Tetsuo film, was my favorite track on the album. It grooves like Eyehategod’s bluesy sludge but if you pick the crusty scab there’s still the black blood beneath and the core of tortured doom. Still, there are moments of light on this album and it’s a fully textured emotional experience. The music may sound like it’s from some godless swamp filled with the bones of massacred families, but it’s also surrounded by lovely apple blossoms, if you make it out of the swamp alive.

There are a few passages that didn’t fully engage me (“Plague of Aeon’s” and “Violent Veins” both tested my patience at times), but The Putrid Stench of Decaying Self is still a tremendous album. If you like earthy doom like Usnea that can block out the sun and cover the world with darkness this is most certainly for you. Just leave yourself a breadcrumb trail if you venture into this bog, you may not make it out again to offer more crappy band name suggestions like I did.

Listen to The Putrid Stench of Decaying Self over on Bandcamp, available for download and CD purchase for a modest $5:  http://trappedwithinburningmachinery.bandcamp.com

And follow them on Facebook, where I learned they are headed to the studio to make more music to hurt our feelings:  https://www.facebook.com/trappedwithinburningmachinery

Also, hat tip to my friend Ellie for pointing me towards this album. She makes beautiful metal vests and could probably sell them for $500 each if any rich kids wanna go see Coffinworm and look troo. I hope to showcase her art on here at some point, she’s vastly talented and recently had a (temporary) Iron Lung tattoo across her knuckles. Bad ass.

REVIEW: BEHOLD! THE MONOLITH - DEFENDER, REDEEMIST

Behold! The Monolith’s self-titled debut boasts one of my favorite album covers: A strangely cuddly axe-wielding warrior creature, equal thirds silverback Gorilla/Sasquatch/Wookie, triumphantly rides an armored red-eyed war-stag, roaring his intent to shampoo his fur with the blood of his enemies. I have no idea what that creature is, but it means business and it’s totally bad ass. Behold! The Monolith’s music is similarly difficult to identify, but why even bother when it leaves such a fun, playful, and dynamic impression? 

Defender, Redeemist may not have a cuddly barbarian on the cover, but it does feature a knight-steered space griffin and possesses a sense of adventure that evades most doom-centric bands. Sure, there are long passages that grunt forward like a zombified snail, but there are also flashes of thrash, dusty southern rock licks, and splashes of blackened sound that texture the album start to finish. “Halv King” pummels with a Motorhead-by-way-of-prehistoric hardcore sneer and album highlight “We Are the Worm” finds the mysterious middle-ground between High on Fire and ZZ Top and dances in that neutral territory with half of an opponent’s bleached skull fastened as a jock strap. After some way-groovy, spaced-out ambience “Redeemist” launches into a doom jam that just starts to overstay its welcome when the trio stomps into new territory with bluesy swagger, their beards most definitely swinging to the tasty metal licks before some haunting clean finger-picking and fuzzed out vocals lead you down yet another twisted, hidden path. It’s an ambitious, tenacious song that captures Behold! The Monolith’s essence in one burly, schizophrenic track.

The album ends without the same success, with three straight tracks that seem to linger without momentum. “Cast On The Black​/​Lamentor​/​Guided By The Southern Cross” follows the same basic structure as “Redeemist” but adds three minutes of running time that feel unwarranted. Despite a fantastic, melancholy riff and accompanying solo to end the track the song soon fades into silence and I’m left searching unsuccessfully for what happened in the first ten minutes. “Bull Colossi” also lurches forward without much passion, capping off a truly promising album with three straight songs I’m unwilling to dedicate nearly half an hour to again. Kevin McDade’s vocals suggest his throat has been shredded from a lifetime of eating porcupine quills and wolverine teeth. They are tough, raw, and the exact ballsy tone to complement their sound, from sludgy romps to trigger-happy bursts of speed. I am usually a bass freak who would sneak to a sound board and crank it past deafening, but the bass here  absolutely dwarfs the guitar until the six-string chimes in with a clean tone.

Despite my less-than-lukewarm take on Defender, Redeemist’s second half I still think it’s worth a listen, especially for fans of slow-born doom that feel like the world needs more song titles like “The Battle for Balls Deep.” At its heart this is feisty, loud rock music that chews on a good riff  longer than its last bite of chaw, just with a serious volume addiction and a vocalist that could make an entire field of caribou suffer heart arrest from a single roar. This Los Angeles band is worth your attention, let me make that clear. You may listen to the last three songs and admire the solid foundation of doom and feel there’s enough experimentation to keep your interest, I just felt a drop in energy, which to me is a cardinal sin when the track has a killer name like “Witch Hunt Supreme.” Nothing energizes me like the slaughter of innocent women over religiously-motivated false pretenses, and that’s probably why I started this blog to begin with.

The band has impressively sold out all CDs but stream their music here:  http://beholdthemonolith.bandcamp.com/

And check out their website:  http://www.beholdthemonolith.com