Guttural Engorgement - The Slow Decay of Infected Flesh CD review artwork

Rating: 2.0

Country: USA

Release Date: 2007

Track list:
01. Intro
02. The Slow Decay of Infected Flesh
03. Job for a Hammer
04. Bile Defilement
05. Steak Knife Face Fuck
06. Cadaveric Maggot Copulation
07. Omnipresent Ecchymosis
08. Cinder Block Facial Reconstruction
09. Molested Dissection
10. Chopsaw Sodomy
11. Gangrenous Torso Fermentation
12. Interlude
13. Wretched Sacrament

Band Website: Guttural Engorgement

Guttural Engorgement - The Slow Decay of Infected Flesh

Mark Rawls - Vocals
Tim - Drums
Brian - Guitar

Deary me. With this release of this recordin', Brutal Slammin' Death has officially become the underground equivalent of Nu Metal. What began as a fresh, innovative interpretation of a stale style led by a handful of hungry young bands has opened up a yawning (yawnsome) vermin swarmin' canker-wound upon the genre-epidermis. Originators such as Suffocation, Dying Fetus, Devourment and Brodequin are like the Brootal Death equivalents of Rage Against the Machine, Korn, Slipknot and Coal Chamber, with hordes and hordes of adorin' clone-acts taggin' along behind ‘n' tuggin' on their tatty coat-tails. The genre now bears more similarities to Nu Metal and Rap/Rock than ever, with each act pennin' their juvenile compositions via scrapin' more of the same vapid two-chug mosh-riffs out the bottom of the slam-barrel. Nu Metal expired circa 2002, when Kansas six-piece Downthesun released a self titled effort containing every trick in the well-thumbed Mallcore manual; its combination of brazenly plagiarised jun-jun riffs, faux-distraught ‘n' pseudo-furious vocals, trite profanities, over-crowded line-up and token electronic wibbles actin' as the final wheezin' gasp of the genre. The Slow Decay of Infected Flesh is the direct Brutal Death equivalent of that chortlesome debut. Every last tired-out trait is here: featureless guitarwork consistin' of treacle-wadin', sludge-trudgin' thug-chugs capped with exasperatingly predictable pinched harmonics, underpinned by cumbersome drumwork, with bland borborygmic vokill lethargy slopped lazily over the top. If this bare-faced talentlessness wasn't enough, the band even has the nerve to label their sound as ‘Progressive US Slam'! The only progression here is the worryin' side-step into much-maligned, modern-day Metalcore styles, the band over-straightenin' their wispy bangs and canterin' away frivolously into hair-flickin', tightly betrousered beatdowns.

Now, this review isn't meant to ridicule the entire style, ‘cos this kind of Slammin' Brutal Death Metal can often provide an invigorating listenin' experience, with many bands givin' you immediate nod-access to slam-excess, often enhancin' its effect by leadin' you through a string o' technical ideas or a chunk o' blisterin', blast-plastered chaos afore arrivin' at a slam-driven plateau of unbridled chugphoria, the listenin' experience made all the more entertainin' by often extraordinary vokill acrobatics. It's a straightforward formula, but like any simple music designed to instigate energetic movements in its listeners or spectators, if the performers neglect to insert enough acuity into their songwriting or forget to inject plenty o' adrenalin into their performance, the whole thing collapses into a stagnant monochromatic puddle such as this. The riffs are penned with obvious intent to incite mosh-pit high-jinks, but structured ‘n' executed with such blunderin' clumsiness that the only slamulent antics I can imagine are cloddish clompin' about the place, with imaginary breezeblocks attached to yer wrists, the ungraceful trot interspersed only by a few gawky attempts at martial arts. Meanwhile, the vokills paint over the slate-grey chug-canvas with clay-brown vomit, addin' little more than ramblin' borborygmic burbles and piggy tongue-coil. I think the only real redeeming features of this artistic output are the song-titles, which are exceptionally well-crafted Brutal Death themes, takin' such common-place scenarios as disease ‘n' decomposition, necrophilia ‘n' tool-shed violence, but tartin' them up with a shrewd use of assonance ‘n' consonance that makes for snappy, forceful titles.

This has the oafish pit-riffs of ol' Splattered Cadaver with the chumpish scruffiness o' Carnivore Diprosopus [review] and the nursery rhyme feel of Abominable Putridity or old Corpsefucking Art, the slow motion, steam-powered loco-chug of Cephalotripsy, along with some low brow Waking the Cadaver trappings, and there's a nod to Devourment, well, everywhere. Despite bein' performed by Mark Rawls of Sikfuk fame, I was rather disenchanted by the vokills too, ‘cos I would've expected that at least some of the colourful guttural toilet-splatter of his Sikfuk colleage that made their debut, Gore Delicious, such a fun listen may have rubbed off on him, but instead he's just lazily disgorged a saggy pile o' cupped-up up-chuck that serves only to further dullify the record.

The production is actually very good, with immaculately balanced levels o' thick ‘n' gleamin' guitar-scythes splattered in sludgy muck, lovely close-miked kicks, punchy snare and beefy vokill sound.

The act recently disbanded, with two members teamin' up with ex-Eggbeater Abortion members to form Hematuria, ploughin' along in a similar directionless manner to that of Guttural Engorgement, but with a heavier emphasis on those slackened studded-belt beatdowns. Enough. With The Slow Decay of Infested Flesh, Brutal Death Metal has grown into some sort o' writhing, auto-cannibalistic hydra, swallowing itself via means of its own gluttonous chug-orifice; a thriving tentacular inlet whose persistent slurping facilitates this self-ingurgitation.

Brutal Nu Metal. Rap/Slam. Malldeath. A one slam pony.

January 11th, 2007