Putrescence - Dawn of the Necrofecalizer - Reviews

Soiled Depends - Vocals
Grimmgore - Guitar
Necromagnon - Bass
Dark Lord Skullbong - Drums

I remember tripping acid with my friend and his hippie girlfriend several years back. They brought their German Shepherd Bill, over to the house my roommate and I were renting and we popped a couple of tabs. Before long, Bill started acting totally insane by running into the patio shed door head first, stumbling all over the Astroturf covering the concrete, and jumping nearly uncontrollably onto any surface. Right as I broke into fits of laughter induced by both Bill and the LSD, we made a discovery that he had somehow shattered a bottle of Crown Royal and licked almost its entire contents off the floor. As my pupils dilated and the hallucinations began I watched as Bill convulsed with a deep groan then puked up everything that he had eaten in the day. The vomit was a mish mash of booze, dried brown oatmeal dog chow, some type of stringy pinkish flesh, and it resided in a gooey dark tinted orange base. Then I watched Bill lap up his own upchuck with an exuberance that was doubly disgusting and slow motion psychedelic. Yet, it wasn't till I heard Putrescence that I could understand why Bill's sloppy barf could taste delicious. See folks eating pabulum that has burst out the wrong end of an intestinal tract ain't just a dog feat. No, it is an “Explosion of Intestinal Cavity ” made for all to enjoy.

Putrescence's latest offering is called ‘Dawn of the Necrofecalizer'. The album is a slacker's paradise of musical Goregrind sure to make the tightest sphincter gape wider than the Lincoln Tunnel. In contrast to their first album ‘Mangled, Hollowed Out and Vomit Filled', Putrescence has made some progress as diseased musicians. The sullied production that permeated every orifice of the last album is not as present on ‘Dawn of the Necrofecalizer'. This is in part due to a slightly thicker guitar tone that is backed by the solid play of the bass and drums. The compositions all have a nice mix between grind parts and glum Goregrind pugnacity. When they chug during slams, the guitars have a lively punk tone with a heavy bass attitude. The vocals are a fine cross between Grindcore style mucus juggling yells and fat pussy eating gurgles. The drums have an up tempo Rock & Roll flare that mutilates between fast, mid-paced, and slow in fun transitions. Overall the album churns on the strength of loose short compositions that bounce and wiggle with the buoyancy of a fat long turd violently rattling around for survival as it is going down the drain. Like that toilet bowl staining shit, Putrescence' ‘Dawn of the Necrofecalizer' is great for multiple spins.

Usually we reviewers at Diabolical Conquest like to give you readers a contrast between the band we are evaluating and acts they resemble in one capacity or another. See, I was gonna throw some comparisons at you all fuckers that Putrescence sounds a little like Butcher ABC, with a sprinkling of Cerebral Turbulency, a cum shot of Suppository, and a spoonful of Impaled, but fuck it cause I checked their profile on My Space. That is how I found out they take their inspiration from the most profound musical influence possible, booze and beer. Yup, these reprobates are held together by the smooth stylings of such notable brands as Highland Park 18 Year Old, Sleeman's Cream Ale, Glenfiddich, Glenmorangie, Canadian Club 12 Year Old and Fort Garry Frontier Ale among other tasty trademarks of greater cranial cell decomposition. Is it any wonder then that they are able to navigate some of the more catchy barley and malt mayhem in the Goregrind world today? Hell, just knowing that Putrescence is a group of booze hounds is enough to make my palate drier than an old lady's twat.

OK Diabolical Demons the time has arrived for you to get yourself the new Putrescence and a keg of beer. Steal the money from your hooker mom or your fat slob daddy, but get yourself in the game cause Putrescence is coming to your neighborhood with me driving their 18 wheeler. We are gonna ass fuck your little just turned 18 sister, get the dog drunk, burn your retro Thrash collection, shave off your EMO haircut, melt your extended version of 'Napoleon Dynamite', and burn your Type O Negative Playgirl happy CD collection. Get out the whiskey and blast ‘Dawn of the Necrofecalizer' over the loud speakers cause the rape session is about to begin.