TOLERANCES OF THE HUMAN FACE IN CRASH IMPACTS – ‘OCCUPATION’

A work of low rent bulldozing passionate Gore brutality from solo project Tolerances of the Human Face In Crash Impacts, as ballardian as their name may (or may not) suggest. Massive, disgusting, moronic DI electronic Goregrind shot through with a horrid Crust influence and a loud, earscraping mix, exuding the raw stench of anti-human hatred and paradoxical low effort creative compulsion. Catchy groove soaked Bass-less crust riffs pockmark the gore drenched noise wall, crispy burned Drum sounds clatter, crash and boom, bubbling roaring tarman vocal consecrates a vile experience of underground alienation. TxOxTxHxFxIxCxI also experiments with tempo, souring into midpace sturm und drang with minimalist banger ‘Fed Their Own Brains’ and their impressive cover of D-Beat warriors Disclose’s ‘Conquest’. Bearing a striking, sickening resemblance to the various projects of A. Ringdahl or the mighty Dysmenorrheic Hemorrhage,  TxOxTxHxFxIxCxI reminds the intrepid, exhausted seeker of a valuable lesson: never stop plumbing the murky depths. Unheralded excellence.

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STENCHED – ‘GORGING ON MEPHITIC ROT’

Mexican one-man Death Metal project Stenched’s first demo, a putrid, sordid affair mired in salacious swampy groove, relying largely on burly mid pace tempos to batter and stupefy. Slimy death metal from deep in the sewers, surging shit-tide d-beats launch the cadaverous, morbid deadly chord structures into an uptempo toilet bowl swirlie and then down the u-bend into slow lurching deathly slop with minimum note leads rolling across the corpulent rockin’ grooves, leaking corpse juices as the guitars work over burbling bacterial Bass, topped with filthy burping low vocal halitosia, beautifully simple and sophomoric, stupefying morbid sludgy Death Metal for dumbells and sewer dwellers. If you dig on that moron, no fancy-pants shit like Undergang, Cerebral Rot, Convulse or Transgressor, hesitate no further! Gruesome.

Blood Harvest

Templum Obscenum Records

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FAUCHEUSE SELF TITLED

Faucheuse delivers a falcon uppercut to the jaw with their self titled demo, a bruising serenade of masterful Hardcore Punk. Bloody streaks of violent Rock & Roll guitars peal out outrageously uplifting, blazing consonant melody, slashing atop a steel horse of absolutely battering tumbling drums and torqued Bass rhythm section in extra-tight lockstep, and energised to everlovin’ fuck with furious vocal of desperation and power, with banging, bright, scruffy production. Faucheuse manages to explore lots of ideas here, playing with some more spare dynamics amid the torrent of fury, squeezing these tracks full of memorable hooks, mid-to-fast tempos and intriguing, uplifting melody, detouring into R&R mayhem drenched in dulcet lead work before plummeting back into ‘adult oriented d-beat’ aplomb. Makes me want to throw cops off a building. This is yet another band I’ve checked out from hearing them on Demolisten, recommended to hosts Grey and Nate by Tyler Hammer of the Kings Of Punk Podcast. Both pods are completely indispensable, bastions of correct opinion and perspective amidst a sea of Punk/Metal cultural ‘commentary’ youtube neophyte bullshit. I recommend subscribing to both immediately.

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THE KILL – ‘SHOWER OF BRICKS’

The Kill’s ‘Shower Of Bricks’ is an abrupt, unstoppable blast of hyper-velocitrous Grindcore in thrall to Pazuzu, made particularly piquant by the abstruse drumming of Jay Jones, also vocalist for Fuck…I’m Dead, providing a literal fucking shitstorm behind the kit here: fucker really does sound like a shower of bricks pingin’ off your skull! Careening 3 piece Grindcore pell-mell, superfast and powerful one footed blastbeats and tumult fills, full of chops and extreme power, spazzing thrash riffs and half sawing grindriffs seesawing and slashing into each other in punk-on-steroids madness, high phlegm vocal scrape scream full of utter piss and vinegar for sedentary shoppers, pugilist pub patrons and excessively chatty twats. A debilitating throat strike, death by 1000 blows in less than 330 seconds, Grindcore both technical and truculent. Brief, blunt and brutal as FUKK. This was later released as a split with fellow Aussie grinders Captain Cleanoff, whose self titled EP and full length ‘Symphonies of Slackness’ are excellent and well deserving of your time, but whose tracks here I’m unfamiliar with. “get the fuck outta my way – Before I punch some cunt out”.

Blastasfuk

JAH WARRIOR – ‘DUB FROM THE HEART’

Producer Jah Warrior’s 1997 full length ‘Dub from the Heart’, a collection of devout hard as nails psychedelic Dubs from The UK, tuff deadly steppers rendered in smoky digital studio production, fired with red-edged siren, system crushing electronic sub bass haze rolling in swollen waves, and drifting electronic percussion punch echo/delayed to decay, dread digital melodica(?) flutters and floats above the miasma with Jah minded power and manifest consonance, a shade of light above the murky Bass aquatics. As a cannabinoid sidestep into the tangential, I recently played this record repeatedly whilst re-reading William Gibson’s Neuromancer for the first time in a long time, Jah Warrior’s retrofuturist hard Dub vision syncopating beautifully with the cyberpunk narrative’s storyscape. Far out. I also can’t help but quote the exceptional Rewind Forward record shop review on the digital liner – “… this is one 100% crucial documentation of Jah Warrior’s signature, dreader-than-dread UK steppers sound, deep, kind of dark and fierce, overwhelmingly bass-loaded and reverb-drenched, but still mightily uplifting, in roots reggae style and fashion.”  Rock solid beginning to end. Thank you and blessings to my youngest brother for putting me on to this marvelous LP those years back, the man’s tastes and interests defy his age.

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BEHOLD THE ARCTOPUS – ‘INTERSTELLAR OVERTROVE’

Hyperbole inducing Fusion Jazz Prog phantasmagoria from Behold the Arctopus. I hadn’t heard anything these guys had produced in a good few years, and in that interim they’ve only gotten stranger, jettisoning their metal carapace and exposing their prone insides to the void’s mutating, corrupting influences. ‘Interstellar Overtrove’ is a post musical sarcophagus of Avant Garde Prog and experimental Fusion Jazz wrought in impossible meter, nerd chin-stroke wank shit gone absolutely Tech Death haywire! Gated to death planed flat e-drums with mental timbral intrigue, firing through insane rhythms as many stringed instruments dance, flitter and pummel Morse code notations with cool, stasis inertia sound, clear and precise like fine silicone dust, a million opaque mathematical meanings and complexities delivered straight into the fucking third eye chakra – never to be decoded or understood! Computational excess, overreach and eventual accidental ignition and burning chrome, all hard disks erased for fear of malignant fractal replication. About as far from ‘songs’ as one might travel. Some stars to guide by might include ‘Three Of a Perfect Pair’ Crimson, Steinar’s spacegrinding Psudoku or perhaps those dry neat jazzer sections on Cynic’s ‘Focus’, distortion eroded and a bizarre and impossible skeletal structure found beneath, perfectly rendered in xenomorphic alloy. Rapturously weird.

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B L A C K I E – ‘CATHARSIS ONLY’

B L A C K I E’s latest release, a short and ear-battering trip continuing the Houston artist’s edgesmashing sound into basically pure Power Electronics territories. The man stands far outside and further beyond Hip Hop’s dogmatic scriptures than most, manifestly evident in the artist’s latent if quiet influence on the mainstream of the genre. Short harsh blasts of ephemeral beatwork kicked and mauled by malign synthesis process to cumulate Power Electronics bitter screen/wall of howling crackling bass frequencies and snowblind white noise, lo-fi bleeding-red productions of surging Industrial textures colliding with contaminated sampling and thumping sub bass kicks, light on easy beats and heavy on dense avalanching noise and awkward loops, over which B L A C K I E screams, yells and cries in brutal minimal sloganeering like a soul possessed. Head crushing banger beats surface at key moments on the record, steaming and hulking, appearing all the more monstrous and bludgeoning for their scarcity, like on ‘mean nothing’ and closer ‘stay elevated’, and B L A C K I E’s furiously introverted self-denigrations and blood drenched personal/political roaring raving vocal hits like a fucking teargas cannister to the dome in this context. Crucial.

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