“December falls upon us, each day the sump pumping less, but to my surprise, out flumped Extirpated Mortal Process, a glut of death metal excess. Alas, spit-roasted and splattered, tired and tattered, I no longer urge for any of this expired mess. You see, I tried Stabbing on a plane and Stabbing in a car. I tried Stabbing in my office and Stabbing while afar.” Better to shiv than receive.
“Lovable gorehounds Exhumed return after a three-year recording gap, feeling rather nostalgic as they celebrate their lengthy history, bringing back old cattle into the writing process, and musically, continuing the throwback trend of previous album, Horror. Since picking up the gore metal baton fumbled by idols Carcass on Swansong, Exhumed carved a remarkably consistent career. While lovingly inspired by the English legends, Exhumed were never content with mimicry.” Huzzah to the ripper.
“Live free, slam hard—that’s the motto for much of what modern slam throws down. It’s a simple art born of specific roots that’s lived through inbred breakdown after inbred breakdown. But I come back to it, and you, potential reader, probably do too if you’ve made it beyond a cursory glance at the genre tags to this article. So, let’s be honest, if you’re really a slam-addicted fiend, it doesn’t matter what the score below says. Knowing this, Internal Organs External—the one-man machine of Arizona’s own Vince Otero—does their absolute worst to snap your neck and numb your senses, aiming to be a 35 minute injection of dopamine for whatever mind or body-crushing activity you have queued up.” Slam fisted.
“Whether in the presence of a low or high grind tide, the quest for more persists. It’s no secret that quite a few of us in the office are sickos looking for a cheap, direct-to-vein thrill. Why just the other day our own El Cuervo was at the water cooler pining for the muddy-muzzled lashing of Ass to Mouth. And who could blame him? Their 2014 outing had a unique charm of blended political samples and rough-tongued tirades against the traditional pummel and pierce of high ethanol grind. Teethgrinder understands this hunger.” Molarity ensued.
“There’s a certain level of scummy purulence I crave in my death metal. I want it to sound filthy and vile, toxic and infectious. When the style is performed too cleanly, it feels almost like a PC version of death and it loses its dangerous edge. Fargo-based scuzz merchants Maul speak my offensive language, and on their Seraphic Punishment debut, they set out to dunk you in pus and coffin slime before applying a powder coat of poo-crust. This is the recipe for a bad skin rash and good music.” Enter the chopping Maul.
“A no-frills, hardworking deathgrind unit, Misery Index remain a dependably vicious and gritty act some twenty-plus years into a stellar, yet arguably underappreciated career. While well known within extreme metal circles, Misery Index often escape the limelight, and despite forays into modern death metal territory, the uncompromising outfit continue embracing their punk, hardcore and grindy roots to powerful effect. Now some three years since they dropped the solid Rituals of Power, Misery Index unleash their seventh LP, entitled Complete Control.” Control issues.
“On their self-titled debut, Nurser compress all the bile and venom they can muster into 17 minutes of brooding malevolence, punctuated by psychotic outbursts of rage. This combination of down-pace, creeping dread, driven by heavily fuzzed, static-laced guitars paired with savage eruptions of pummeling drums and death riffs, gives Nurser an unnerving unpredictability.” Nurse racket.
“Lock Up is a cool band. The long-running supergroup collective, featuring a shuffling cast of characters, have been kicking out the filthy deathgrind jams since their barnstorming 1999 debut Pleasure Paves Sewers. Sophomore album Hate Breeds Suffering ruled as well. Despite a more haphazard and sporadic output in the years since those two gritty, unvarnished gems dropped, Lock Up continued to maintain relevance while adhering to their classic deathgrind template, warts and all.” Lock up the nuance.
“Promo selection is not always a calculated plan of precision. I’m sure every AMG writer has their own methodical ways or quirky preference when they dive into the sordid world of metal promos. But in some cases, it’s the promise of simple pleasures that can allure. Case in point is the new album from New Mexico’s deathgrind/crossover crew Feed the Corpses to the Pigs. I must admit it was their part cool, part clumsy moniker, and deathgrind tagging that dragged me in.” Hurls before swine.
“After maybe 300 reviews, I’d estimate I’ve locked up several kilobytes of server space recommending artists work with Colin Marston. As a result, I of course take full credit for all the bands that line up to record with him and receive a small monthly stipend from the Menegroth budget. But not every band has to take that advice, and since my kickback is limited by studio throughput, I’m in the market for another producer to praise/shake down. That’s where Argentina’s Tumba de Carne come in.” Tumba thumper.
