Despite all the insult-flinging in our direction, we Villagers just had to have Captain Graves (of Advent Varic) back for another review in typically pugilistic fashion. Today: Tartarus Horde's self-titled debut. Enjoy! - Ed.
I've been summoned to The Village once again. This time for some music out of my realm of normal listening. You know The Captain prefers a more depressive style. They sent me a weird device called a "tape," I've never seen anything like it. I searched far and wide at the stores to find a mundane object here on your planet to find a way for it to play. On Saturn 9, I usually just take whatever files I feel, maybe this was a smart move, or a way to prevent me from stealing their music. I bet this was this was the work of the Necrosexual, that Weak bastard.
Tartarus Horde brings to the table on of my favorite things: DESTRUCTION!!! Here we have some glorious Blackened Battle Death Metal. For some reason I usually loathe the snare sound in Death Metal. Something about that high, popping sound really turns me off, but this isn't the case here. It's the almost annoying sound, but mixed in so well with the guitar riffs I almost forget about it.
The vocals are right up my alley, they have that delicious blackened sound I love so dearly. The guitar tone is crunch, gritty, and the riffs are so clear. This isn't your typical Death Metal recording, it reminds me a lot of Corpse Grinder era Cannibal Corpse, and I FUCKING love them. There's some video game style MIDI that reminds me of Final Fantasy on Nintendo.
My biggest critique of this release are the voice samples. I really don't understand the use of but them. If I would have known the final track was a 9 min book on tape, I would have gladly pressed stop on the tape deck. The music was so good, they just felt out of place. This isn't a critique just for this band, as I hate it always, get to the fucking point please.
This is a crackin' EP ("crackin'" being a word I learned from one of but those British blokes at The Kings' Pistol), and it's on tape so I can't use it as a coaster. I extend a fair warning to this band, Saturn 9 is pissed off just as much as myself for the fucking story book. We'll see you in Philly soon, and you will meet your demise as well as that Weakling Necro.
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.