“I fucking love Cannibal Corpse. They represent a definition of that unbridled commodity requisite in death metal: sonic and conceptual brutality, boundary blasting lyricism and acute controversy. Now, in today’s landscape of ever-evolving extreme criterion, at a glance, their modus operandi may seem somewhat passé, but, frankly, you’re wrong.” Don’t know how to quit loving the Corpse.
“For me, Pathology was the gateway to slam. I still recall the first time I ever experienced their music: Boxing Day, years ago, I went to the now-defunct record store Zeus in search of some new metal to feast my ears upon. I saw Legacy of the Ancients with its striking cover, adorned with a sticker saying that Pathology “represents more death than a mass grave in Columbia.” My thoughts in a word: sold.” What do we have to do to put you in this mass grave today?
“How many death metal records today are worth stealing from? Not many, I’d wager; we simply have too many of them to keep track of. Look to the language: the promo writers are bored, ‘brutal’ only has so many synonyms, and hearing that somewhere’s latest upstarts sound like old Deicide is only titillating for so long. But what else can be said? For the average death metal fan, the overabundance of material is a boon and a bane: you’ll never run out of grisly tunes, but you’ll never really dig into a record like older ‘heads did Altars of Madness because a brand new platter o’ splatter is ready and waiting.” Single serving death?
“I’m an extreme guy. By this I don’t mean that I consider myself dangerous or an advocate of some horrendous 90’s marketing initiative, rather that I am a man of extremes – when I like something, I like it a lot; when I dislike something, I have almost no capacity to hide it. Having said that, I pride myself on giving anything and anyone a fair chance, and so it is with music. Lest I resort to using an entire genre as a de facto pejorative, I make sure that it’s an informed opinion that I weigh against an act. Thus, when I say I’m not a huge fan of deathcore, it’s an evaluated choice – not a trendy point of view.” Extreme regression.
“While Obituary never shit the bed, they have certainly tread their fair share of water in the middle years. I am always confused when a band releases an eponymous album late in their career. Are they are declaring this their definitive release or is it due to a lack of inspiration?” Self-titled and still dead.
“As you might have noticed and/or protested, I’ve recently had a ratings run of Steelian proportions. I know I should thank my lucky stars that most of my comrades would kill to fall ass-backward into this vat of high scores and tickled bemusement. But I’m a greedy bastard and I want more!” It’s not a competition.
“Once upon a time, this writer, still a wet-behind-the-ears thrash aficionado, met his first brother-in-metal. He was a lanky fellow who’d rattle his neighbors’ windows with sessions of Cannibal Corpse and hit the pits so hard he’d be out of class for a week. So strong was our bromance that I cut my very first class to hit my first real show with him — I even had a beer (underage!) — what a rebel I was. I owe him, specifically his deification of Glen Benton, for a good portion of my listening habits.” Beers, Benton, bromance, Battlestar Galactica.
“My comrades may disagree, but I find the forced exploration inherent in reviewing to be a feature, not a bug. Operating outside of the norm drew me to metal in the first place, so I embrace this newfound stream of eclectic tastes and unexpected origin. Debutantes Grossty are the latest enigma I find rapping at my door. One of the only bands grinding in India today, they offer escape from the trappings of a metal culture that, though born of difference, too often trends toward uniformity.” Tasting the world, one promo at a time.
“Cannibal Corpse opened the gates for the pornogrind bukakke blast to come (sp) in the mid 1990s, they were and are a death metal band. Granted, Germany’s Gut was wallowing in depraved and murksome waters for a few years, but they always had more in common with a band like the Meat Shits dashed with a touch of Macabre than anything remotely malevolent. It was with Deranged’s debut, 1995’s Rated X, that the menace Cannibal Corpse lost appearing found a new, grindier and even more perverse host.” Glove up, peeps, this one is venal and vile (and sticky).
“I love seeing bands progress beyond their infant stages, taking their influences and branching out into worlds unknown. Germany’s Heaven Shall Burn are not one of those bands you think of when you picture the word “progress.” They’ve taken their signature sound from 2004’s landmark Antigone, refined their attack, and proceeded to beat us over the head with variations of their trademark brand of metalcore/death metal/whatever it is the cool kids are calling them these days.” AMG: Voice of the cool kids since 2009.
