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Release Date: 2007 Record Label: Cephalic Records Track list:
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Bile Nephrosis / WhoreEvil / Fetal Butchery / I Shit On Your Face / The Typical Filthy Grindz - Goreism 5 Way Split |
Bile Nephrosis Benny Wang - Vocals |
WhoreEvil Gammah - Bass/programming |
Fetal Butchery Derrick Abbot - Guitar, drum programming |
I Shit onYour Face Doctor Pig - Inverted peristalsis |
The Typical Filthy Grindz A.P. Filthgrinder - All instruments and vocals |
In my experience of multi-band splits, quantity over quality can often be the order of the day, with an ill-advised label pilin' the works of up to ten shite-streaked Coprogrind or Noisegrind bands onto a split CD-r, all of whom submit to it their own individual rip-off of early Amoebic Dysentery or Abosranie Bogom, two acts who themselves often featured on the kind of overcrowded splits I used to worship back in the ol' Traumatized Records days. However, havin' quite a sizeable penchant for the Czech Grind scene, what with characters like Mincing Fury, Pigsty, Jig-Ai, NCC, DEAG and Flying Brains runnin' round the place, my cynicism was dispelled when I noted that Goreism is a release on Czech Republic label, Cephalic Records. With an ear for a quality Grind behind it, this label ought to have no problem in hand-pickin' us a choice nosegay o' splattery Death/Grind/Gore from amongst the dried petals, so this should be a super compilation.
Unfortunately, things don't seem too promising from the opening act, Bile Nephrosis from North Carolina, who put in a sloppy performance of low-grade Goregrind crossed with bland Brootal Death, rife with insipid slug-chudge riffage, clinical widdle, unappealin' prog-drum and mediocre vokill wheeze. At best, their material comes across as a wobbly hybrid of the least remarkable works of Lymphatic Phlegm and Pustulated, but owing the drab riffs, stock structures and hackneyed themes, it ends up sounding a lot like such interchangeable Gore as Intumescence, Bowel Stew, Tu Carne or Mixomatosis, combined with featureless Brootal superfluity like Melting Flesh or Phalogore.
Although the drums have sufficient clout, the production job does little to rescue the work; the vokills are a mangled fuzz-heap, and the guitar is represented in such a way that the chugs sounds scratchy ‘n' subdued, while the solo-strings resemble tinned wasp. These tunes were probably written no more than ten minutes prior to the recording, thus the songwritin' offers little more than mechanical shifts ‘tween fast clatter and characterless sludge-drudge. It does have one or two half-motivatin' catchy moments, and samples from Curb Your Enthusiasm and Home Alone raise a titter, but on the whole, this is an uninspired, run o' the mill Goregrind escapade.
Mexican outfit WhoreEvil follow, submittin' their interpretation of basic US-style Brootal Death and sordid Gore, so think phat ‘n' sweaty slams, piercin' pinched harmonics, obese basslines, slippery grooves and gooey vokill borborygmus. The laughably synthetic drum sound, funny nursery-rhyme chugs and the interspersion of silly samples in the songs complements the menacin', claustrophobic nature of the blastulated parts with a wacky, carefree edge, which gives a more light-hearted feel. In combining the stomach-churnin' stodge of Torsofuck with the inebreiated grooves of Retch (and the heavy-handed drum-prog of both), along with the horny slamulence of Artery Eruption and a Disgorge-inspired smatterin' of Mexican patho-themes, the result is a style with a Brootal side as derivative ‘n' repetitive as someone like Soaking in Entrails or Abominable Putridity, and a Gore side akin to fellow Latin Americans, Anorrectal Protuberance. Their ‘side' of the split closes with a Corpse Carving cover version, which is probably the groovy highlight. With a fizzy, wispy sound, the production is below average, and although the guitars are afforded just enough crunchy depth to fatten up the chugment, the drums ‘n' vox fall into the same trap as the previous act. Quag-standard, silly Brootal Death.
The split pops back to the States again to visit Fetal Butchery (from Alabama, not to be confused with the identically monikered Californian band), bringin' us a collection of material taken from their first demo and forthcoming EP. It's decadent, it's over-indulgent and it's enriched with starchy, artery-clogging slam chug-lard!! Listenin' to such filth is the aural equivalent of greedily ingorgin' extremely greasy cuisine, you know it's the wrong, stodgy fodder with negligible nutritional value, but nonetheless scrumptious and satisfyin'! Not the woozy, sugar-filled hit you get from insubstantial McSlam like Waking the Cadaver, Guttural Engorgement or Cephalotripsy; this type o' Brutal Death gives you the same contented cement stomach provided by an eleven-item English breakfast complemented with a pint o' warm cookin' oil, or a large fish and chip supper (including all available sundries, such as picked eggs, pickled onions, ‘scraps' and a litre of brightly coloured fizzy drink). So, imagine such fatty gutrot as Gutrot, Digested Flesh and Dyscrasia, slopped with Putrilage and Leukorrhea, then proteinized with bits o' Vomit Remnants and Rest in Gore. More quag-standard, silly Brootal Death!
Next, the elegantly named I Shit on Your Face erupt with some hideous Brazilian Goregrind, splattered with chunky Brutal Death phlegm. Picture yourself takin' a leisurely stroll past the local mortuary, then becomin' aware of a thunderous crunchy rumble rattlin' the windows. Peer inside and you'll see forensic technicians in the throes of formaldehyde intoxication, dancin' an absurd, ritualistic jig with some re-animated cadavers, the soundtrack to which being the live music of house-band, I Shit on Your Face! Crude, unrefined riffs played with a disembodied prehensile extremity in the pick-hand, blast-beats clattered out on drums with detached, stretched epidermis for skins, and vokill borborygmus piped out from the bowels of an extremely flatulent stiff. With typical Brazilian Gore tripe like Neuro-visceral Exhumation, Feculent Goretomb or Rotten Penetration as a squelchy foundation, the band stab it with shards o' classick Dead, RGTE and LDOH. For me, the highlight is the hilarious vokill, which brings to mind silly Brootal stuff like Embludgeoned, Necrotorture or Crepitation. Under-produced, ugly Gore/Death with a smelly atmospheric putrefaction. Bleurgh!
Possibly ‘cos they have the most unfortunate band name of all the featured acts, The Typical Filthy Grindz are left behind to tidy up this sloppy mess. This one-man Death/Grind project uses cohesive song-craft to pull robust drum-prog, fluid riff-bludgeon and pus-choked vox into a noddably memorable series o' tunes, with a few splashes of suprisingly proficient fretwork, which pierce through the chugulated surface wonderfully. This is like a low-fi rendering of such solo acts as Blood Vomit or Putrid Pile, and in finding its own balance ‘tween old-skool ‘n' slammin' Death Metal features it combines dirty ol' Broken Hope and Cancer with somethin' like Amputated or Cumgun, then shreds it thru the rusty ol' Earache ‘Grindcrusher'. I find this is best listened to with a fresh head, rather than tryin' to digest it after bein' speared in the ears by the previous four bands.
So, if you're a fan of cheezoid Brootal Death and fetid Goregrind and have no preference when it comes to sound production, then you'll have hours o' fun with Goreism.
December 9th, 2007
    
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