Written by: The Administrator
Full disclosure: this haggard scribe is not exactly what one would safety consider a connoisseur when it comes to the weird world of grindcore and deathgrind. A certain base of familiarity feels like a requirement in an environment defined largely by extreme abrasivity and extreme...well, extremity, and I'm always left questioning whether my casual enjoyment of a grind-adjacent release will translate in the eyes of people who drink deep of the genre's turbulent waters. While the classics are always fun to revisit, and I'll dabble here or there when it comes to stuff that particularly grind-knowledgable people seem to universally enjoy, grind is a space in which I'm happy to take recommendations...but less happy being the recommend-er.
Today, however, I can hardly resist putting in a good word. Narakah is a Pittsburgh-based deathgrind outfit with an apparent knack for infusing the style of the early aughts with a fresh-faced flair. Their latest effort--the 12 minute Blast Haven--is an incredibly strong showing of Discordance Axis-esque chaos with a notable focus on intriguing composition.
Here's a republication of an old guest post. Enjoy! - Ed.
Written by: The Administrator
How best to describe Wormhole? If you're familiar with 'em, you know what I'm talking about. If you aren't, here's my best attempt: The Weakest Among Us is like unto a janitors' big ol' ring of keys, wherein every jangly item represents a markedly distinct genre. Which is to say, there is a lot going on here. Wormhole don't have a denying characteristic of their own, except for the ability to chameleon their way through both slam and tech-death landscapes--which, frankly, don't have a whole lot in common. Whilst one is an intricately designed garden, the other is a pile of craggy boulders. Do they mesh? After listening to this thing like 10 times, I'm still not entirely convinced...but Wormhole certainly put in the work.
To be frank, I approached Four Dimensional Flesh with immense trepidation. Brutal death metal and/or slam aren’t exactly locales I find myself frequenting with any kind of regularity--if I pass through, it’s usually a lone track in the midst of an otherwise innocuous playlist. While the dedication to slammin’ riffs and woodpecker-on-a-hot-tin-roof percussive fills are certainly attractive bedfellows, the trademark drainpipe gutturals and resonance chamber bree-brees really ain’t this scribes cup o’ vox.
And yet here we are, plumbing the gurgling pipes with a grim sense of glee. Why? Because Afterbirth, much like Wormhole, strives to make slam interesting. And it is this quality that remains Four Dimensional Flesh’s greatest strength amongst strengths.
While many of you are likely aware of the plague pit we keep out back here at the Sleeping Village, a better kept secret is our vomit pit. That's where we go when the going gets...gross. Luckily, Pornographic Seizures, the debut from Ohio's nigh unpronounceable Sanguisugabogg, comes with an appropriate warning on the label: "we are not responsible for any instantaneous vomiting upon listening." Thanks, guys. Long story short, we made it out to the aforementioned vomit pit prior to hitting play on this 4-track grotesquerie , and everyone is for the better because of it.
Pornographic Seizures is just that: gross. Obviously. And in that spirit, as is the case of most metal of this variety, it's a bit of a race to see how many negative words I can attribute in a positive light.
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry!