Decibel Meter: the Decapitation of Cattle, Ahead of Turkey Day

Many flesh-devouring holidays ago, we announced our collaboration with f.y.e. for the Decibel Meter, a monthly collection found both online and in store to help keep your plate piled high with the latest extreme titles from all across the metal buffet table. This month’s appropriately mouth-watering collection corresponds to the issue with Cattle Decapitation on the cover (December 2019 issue, #182). The full smorgasbord can be gorged upon right here.

This month’s main course chronicles the origins and rise to head of the table of the San Diego progressive deathgrind institution, from the humble beginning (at the kiddie table?) as a side project of The Locust, to their recent high-attention spot triple co-headlining Summer Slaughter. And whatever the animal rights/meat-eating opinion of any individual listener, Cattle Decap’s recently-release Death Atlas seems a perfect place to start.

Death metal fanatics have plenty to chew on here: Cannabis Corpse‘s hilariously titled Nug so Vile; Nile‘s powerhouse return Vile Nilotic Rites; and the deathened-up hardcore stomp of Creeping Death‘s debut full-length Wretched Illusions. Other major names on the menu include Life of Agony‘s hugely anticipated follow-up to the classic River Runs Red (continuing the story after 25 years!) The Sound of Scars; seventh full-length The Infernal Pathway from Norwegian black metal torch-bearers 1349; black metal rockers Cloak with their sophomore LP The Burning Dawn; and the triumph in black metal avantgarde weirdness from the enigmatic Swiss boundary-pushers Schammasch.

For the vinyl enthusiast looking to end the feast with a decadent dessert, the list also spotlights Slayer‘s Repentless Killogy (Live at the Forum in Inglewood, CA), in red vinyl. Could that red be a cranberry, or red wine red?! Eh, we’re probably stretching more than a little on that one.

To sample the full feast click here, or to skip the shipping and get these titles immediately to make sure you have them in time for your turkey-feasting raging (or tryptophan-fueled nap, or turkey-guided food coma, whatever your preference), head straight to the nearest f.y.e location.