Blessed are the reek

This band may just as well have been called Posterior Fontanelle, given that they’ve definitely zeroed in on my soft spot. Following a quick scan of Odious Descent Into Decay’s track list, Cerebral Rot’s bent for Swedish demo-era DM and Earache-cum-Liverpool’s inaugural dry heaves will surprise precisely no one. What may stagger a few jaded punters is just how much charisma this mephitic old gray mare still musters.

If you’re fond of the ridiculously prolix, circularly descriptive song titles advanced by death/doom’s fetid footmen (Hooded Menace, Mausoleum, Anatolia), you’ll find yourself immediately at home here. Cerebral Rot diligently forewarn us that the promised “Stench of Ruination,” is alarmingly “Foul” (who would have guessed?), that the “Infestation of Cadaver”—grody!—is “Repulsive” and that their “Septic Mass” is, sadly, “Reeking.” Now that’s a shame! My septic mass smells faintly of freshly cut tuberose and beeswax candles. Still, Cerebral Rot’s obedience to the aeolistic tastes of their predecessors is appreciated, if only for tradition’s sake.

Packaging aside, the real value lies in the smartness of Cerebral Rot’s songsmithing. They have the rare competence of a juvenile Nihilist or a Nirvana 2002, only played at a far more sluggish RPM. The willingness to allude to the wild immediacy of bombed-out punk and the narrow-eyed samurai walk of doom (while meticulously lacing these expressions with meaningful, catchy passages) is what animates this moldering corpse. And it’s all captured with the volatile tonality of an especially nasty Peel Session. This is a perfectly nauseating listen. friends. Go forth and be mortified.