Arthouse Fatso – Sycophantic Seizures: A Double Feature Review

First, 2024 gave us NASCAR-themed heavy metal, then shortly thereafter Mortal Kombat-themed heavy metal. In this world of extreme tunes and extreme niches, artists look even more granularly into their fascinations for artistic inspiration. In turn, Arthouse Fatso chooses Orson Welles—acclaimed and controversial American filmmaker—as its hammering theme for an industrial deathgrind adventure. It’s not often that such a grimy genre finds a muse in a figure that’s not a serial killer or something fictional and equally macabre. But Fatso seems ready to revive Welles as an industry outsider fit for patch-vested punk fixation . “The classy gangster is a Hollywood invention.”

Stylized in name similar to an old film feature, Sycophantic Seizures: A Double Feature covers the unlikely ground of cinema-guided industrial deathgrind with a levity and irony-laced humor that rarely features outside of silly titles in the grind world. True to the gritty and punky arts it follows, Fatso chooses various samples from a Welles reading of his own 1943 essay Moral Indebtedness to frame the central character as an idealistic man in a power-ravaged, capitalist society. And throughout the album’s run, Fatso’s sole credited member, The Director, makes sure to echo Wellesian thoughts, like criticism of the increasing corporate presence in the film industry (“Endless Trash”) and exploitation of vulnerable groups in affluent societies (“The Royal Adventures of Andy and Jeff”).1

Sycophantic Seizures, thankfully, eschews being a sermon by supplying loads of funky fresh riffs with diverse accompaniment. Rather than leaning on anything overtly techy, Fatso uses the weight of jaunty but groovy Macabre bounces (“A Message to Ben…,” “a Limerick”), the scrawling fervor of Discordance Axis (“Scandinavian Delicacies,” “Famous and Unfunny”), and the tough guy grind of Terrorizer (“Suburban Suffocation,” “Sycophantic Seizures”) to display a breadth of intense riff-cabulary. I’d imagine The Director fancies themselves a guitarist first, many of the skronky six-string lines and relentless rhythmic pummelings find either full harmonies or extra forward pulse from warm, popping basslines, very much in the school of Demilich oddness—no burps, only brees though. Well, brees, many scattered backing barks, and sudden but welcome clean vocal gang choirs (“Sycophantic Seizures,” “Imperialist! Dream Burst!”)—the unpredictable incorporations in each track go a long way to solidify memorable identities. Yes, that includes an incredibly warped guest violin solo on “A Message to Ben and His Lovely Sister Abby.”2

Either by choice or necessity, Fatso has also leaned into its drum programming as an industrial feature. On grind-speed numbers, the kick layers render so fluttered that they’re a stuttering wall of sound (“Suburban Suffocation,” “The Royal Adventures…”), but Fatso knows when to throw back still with an engorged, punctuated groove (“A Message to Ben…,” “Tweets of the Sane”). Sycophantic Seizures finds its most experimental position in “[INTERMISSION],” though, which starts with an olde-timey call for popcorn and devolves into a hissing, screeching noise-addled manifesto that feels like it fell off a Full of Hell/The Body collab. And, in a move that we’ve heard a couple of times recently in adjacent death metal corners, the journey concludes with an industrial hip-hop beat under a Welles diatribe, lifting his legacy as a rebellious auteur—at least in The Director’s eyes.

Again, many of this album’s inherent traits could easily manifest as flaws for listeners—the abrasive programmed drumming, the noise diversions, the reliance on an incredibly strange niche. Why, not too long ago, Bloodbox came about with a similarly contorted industrial grinding piece that landed mixed in these halls, but not for me. Arthouse Fatso leans into exactly what it is: riff-forward deathgrind that centers around the mystique and controversy of Orson Welles and warps his character with left-field death metal and gritty electronics. Most importantly, though, Sycophantic Seizures in its presentation of certain grind tropes—sub-twenty-second songs, a paragraph-length song title,3 humorous samples, a high-concept cover art with a low-brow joke—ensures that it never quite takes itself that seriously. However cynical The Director may seem, and however self-deprecating Welles might exist in this fictional re-imagining, Sycophantic Seizures maintains a core of wild riffs and structured swells. It may not be Citizen Kane, but I think Welles would forgive that.


Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Horror Pain Gore Death Productions | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/arthouse-fatso | arthousefatso.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 8th, 2024

Show 3 footnotes

  1. The latter complete with a beautiful Neil Breen sample.
  2. I’m assuming this is a slam directed at Ben Shapiro, which feels apt for a modern enemy of Welles.
  3. “Merseburg Manuscript Containing Magical Manifestations of the Monument to Massaive Mammaries and the Misaligned Maidens Who Maintain Their Milken Magnificence (Suffocated To The Flesh That We Desire).” Truth be told, this is probably a Demilich joke.
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