
The basement-recording quality of the production values smears the songs in a glorious mess of barbwire static and noise. Gorehammerithius’ bellows, growls, and shrieks are all drenched in distortion, stripping away what little humanity that was in them to begin with. His maniacal blasting propels the songs at a frenetic pace. Blastbeats, cymbal crashes, and double-bass stampedes, run rampant. The Reaper, other half of the duo, wields the guitar. The tone is slightly lean, but raw and vicious.
With such a damn good production, it’s a shame the songs themselves aren’t as great. Structure-wise and length-wise, there isn’t much to complain about. The songs are longer than the minute-long bursts of noise in grind but slightly shorter than a standard death or thrash offering. Concise and straight-to-the-point while still having development. The drums are perfect. Gorehammerithius bashes his kit with incredible command, power, and speed.
The disappointment here, the only disappointment really, are the riffs. The riffs aren’t sleep-inducing, nothing near that. They’re quite potent with the speaker cranked up to an appropriately antisocial level, but just not memorable enough. There are moments in several of the songs where they almost descend into pure fucking headbanging armageddon, but it just doesn’t quite get there.
“Atomic Storm of Genocide” starts off noisily and furiously, and more than maintains its thrashing speed through its entire 2 and a half minute length, but it just doesn’t hit that perfect riff.
“Operational Horrors” and many of the other tracks (“Consumed By Flames”, “Strangled and Mutilated”) suffers from a similar case. It’s never downright disappointing, but that glorious headbanging moment never comes.
There are, of course, some saving graces. “Rotting Autopsy” locks into a great thrashing riff, riding atop a pummeling stampede of double-bass midsong, but the moment is short lived, as the song clocks in at 54 seconds.
Closer “Richard the Goatworshipper” just teases neck-snapping, back-aching headbanging chaos with the breakdown towards the end (not the E-string wanking kind, but the more general, tempo-change kind, so relax) but the bomb just doesn’t drop.
It’s a shame really. Keeping in mind though that Grinding Thrash of Death is only the band’s second release, I can see good things in the horizon. Even great things, possibly. Sure, Holy Cannibalism probably won’t become legendary, they probably won’t break any new ground, probably won’t be hailed as lyrical or musical geniuses, and probably won’t start a new trend in the underground. What they probably will do though, is put out a new release with more than enough headbanging riffs to shut me up and give me (and whoever else gets their hands on it) neck damage. And that’ll be enough to satisfy me, and many others, I suppose.
I’ll get my hospital fee ready.
