What up, fools? We got all of the things fine enough (or bad enough) for you to check out or don’t check out. So, let’s just get into it, shall we?
Napalm Death release Apex Predator-Easy Meat. Attacking this one for review is a little difficult, as I typically don’t do the “this track, that track” sort of thing, but overall this is an intense record, albeit a little strange for Napalm. Not to say this thing isn’t a rager — it TOTALLY is; it’s one step from inciting a riot — but it’s different. There are some churning, more Swans-like moments, and some moments that I can only describe as “prog pumped through the Napalm filter” — you know, proggy, but not like Yes wankery — and there’s even a “melodic” moment or two. Don’t get me wrong though: This is no Words From the Exit Wound, and although a little different for them, it is definitively a Napalm Death record. There are, of course, blistering-fast blasts and riffs, and that this is heavy goes without saying. Most will dig this record, although it may take a little bit to grow on some people. Apex Predator proves that after 28 years, Napalm still have a ton of life left in them, and that they’re on the upswing and not a downfall. Definitely leaders, not followers. 8 Fucking Pecks
I Am Going to Kill Myself. No, no, no, that’s the name of the new Black Sheep Wall EP on Season of Mist. And this is cool. I’m pecking into it. To call this an EP is a little unfair, because it’s LONG, and, well, doom. This is a little hard to classify at times. It’s definitely sludgy/doomy, but has this off-kilter kind of falling-apart feeling that puts the listener on edge. Drenched in feedback, pummeling riffs abound with a howling screech that is sometimes tied together with some found spoken-word type interludes. This is arty and weird, but also has that type of fuckery that sets a lot of modern doom apart from just boring amplifier drone and monster chugs. There is a little filler on here, or perhaps I’m misinterpreting the fucked-up element to this band, but it ultimately redeems itself in the end. I like this, and borderline love this; just not sure I understand the musings completely. 7 Fucking Pecks
Dead in the Manger release Cessation. This is blackened grindcore… well, sorta. There is trem-picking and blast beats, and that kinda post-black metal/sorta droney thing going on. This is a no-frills, go-for-the-jugular sorta record, and while there is a surprising amount of melody here, it doesn’t take away from the overall fierceness of the album. I like this. Great first effort. 6 Fucking Pecks
