“From MTV’s Jersey Shore to the actual Jersey Shore, New Jersey has vomited all sorts of nasty filth upon this planet. Sitting among this garbage heap is death metal duo Siege Column, a project of Jersey underground veteran Joe Aversario and his partner in crime, “Shawnslaught Skullkrusher.”” Siege the day.
“Metal reflects its environs. England’s gloomy weather gave birth to the Peaceville Three, the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest gave birth to Cascadian black metal, and the lazy Southern swagger of New Orleans gave birth to sludge. But the sweltering heat of the Big Easy also produced another vile offspring, a hellish bastard child forged by hundred degree summers and humidity high enough to turn your grundle into Lake Pontchartrain. Abysmal Lord is their name and bestial blackened death metal is their game.” Laying cabal.
“In their promo blurb, Morbosidad boast that all their lyrics are written in Spanish, a “direct descendant of the Latin tongue spoken by the crucifiers of Jesus.” That alone should tell you everything you need to know about the band. Turn the distortion to 11 and get out your crumpled Blasphemy shirts, here comes 33 minutes of bestial blackened death metal guaranteed to earfuck you into next week.” Ears are a gift and should be treated with respect.
This post has been removed because it promoted Nazi or Nazi-adjacent metal bands or musicians. We apologize.
“For those who like scorching deserts, scantily-clad temptresses, and animals that will poison you and then rip your face right off, look no further than the land down under. Hell? Close – Australia. It’s no surprise such a rugged environment has given rise to filthy bands that blur the lines between thrash, black, and death: Nocturnal Graves, Denouncement Pyre, Innsmouth, and the almighty Deströyer 666. Of perhaps lesser profile – though no less quality – is Victoria’s Destruktor.” Former penal colonies make the best metal.
“It’s hard to express my immense satisfaction upon pushing play on Morbosidad’s Tortura. Unlike what I’ve come to expect from Nuclear War Now!’s brand of bestial blackened death – that is, guitars distorted to shit and vocals that sound like someone’s fatfuck cousin chugged Drano and attempted to burp the alphabet in the background – Tortura opens with a set of ragged, filthy chords that resound with power and clarity. It makes sense at first glance: having been around since 1993, one would assume they’ve had enough time to hone their sound.” Things don’t get much more filthy than this stuff. Bring the Purell.
