Author Archives: Friar Johnsen

SKULL546

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DEFLESHUARY, From Feast to Filth (2012, Sevared)

The skull:
Though the title might be making some sly comment on the value of bourgeois comestibles, which end up as shit no matter how fancy they begin on the plate, that point is somewhat undermined by the depiction of a feast that starts as filth. And honestly, who’s going to take seriously the social critique of a maggot muncher? Then again, it’s hard to guess if, in the death metal community, “maggot muncher” would be hurled as an insult, or lofted as a compliment.

The music:
With a name like Defleshuary, you’d expect some kind of gurgling goregrind, and not quirky, light prog metal with an emphasis on tricky drumming and acrobatic falsetto vocals. And of course you’d be right to expect that, because this is fucking Defleshuary. Goregrind is totally useless to me, a style that, when executed at the very highest level, merely elevates a band to “heard one, heard ’em all” status. By my reckoning, Defleshuary are, at their best, a reasonably good example of the form, but it’s a form I don’t need, and you probably don’t either. But, if you do, here’s your chance to own literally everything this band ever recorded, in one convenient package, including their contributions to the split CD Fermenting in Five-Way Filth, which I will admit is an excellent title. Those tracks are the latest on this comp, and definitely the best. Go back to their first demo, and you’re in for some really stupid mushmouthed nonsense, but if your in for a penny of goregrind, you’re in for a pound, I suppose.
— Friar Johnsen

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ANTROPOID, Danger (2007, self-released)

The skull:
“Antropoid” is actually the Slovak word for “pirate,” and this is just one of the many signs you’ll see to alert you to freebooter crossings while motoring down the picturesque highways of this landlocked central European nation. Over the years, many of these signs have been stolen by Running Wild fans, and as a result, the crushed corpses of patch-eyed, hook-handed, peg-legged seamen litter the shoulders of many rural roads. Conservationists consider this part of the world ground zero in the effort to preserve wild pirates from extinction, but privately, most would express deep reservations about the possibility of protecting the remaining stock of buccaneers.

The music:
Sounding like a mix of early 90s Anthrax (at the dire end of the first Joey Belladonna era) and recent Metallica (trying very hard to be heavy, but sucking fairly badly), Antropoid are rather hard to explain. Why would a band try to sound this way, in 2007, especially? Maybe the better albums were too hard to come by in Slovakia, or maybe Antropia were just a bunch of kids who didn’t know what the hell they were doing. That said, though their songs are not very good, they play them with a commendable enthusiasm that I find unavoidably appealing. Antropoid might actually have fared very well in today’s flaccid rethrash scene, although they’d have to bone up on their Exodus and Slayer, but they appear to already have passed into the great moshpit beyond.
— Friar Johnsen

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SCAVANGER, Scavanger (2005, demo)

The skull:
I bet there’s another band out there called Scavenger whose album cover is this exact, blurry, angry, red skull, and when this band stole it, they changed the spelling of the band name to Scavanger (note the extra A) to avoid being caught. So far, they’ve gotten away with it, but how long can they keep running?

The music:
I imagine there are thousands of bands like this in Germany. Basically competent, totally boring trad metal bands knocking out chintsy-sounding demos in their bedrooms. They’re the first of four local openers tacked onto the UDO show. They play Sunday nights at their local bar, to a crowd they know personally to a man (and woman, since the bassist’s mom usually goes to their gigs.) They’re not horrible, but even on the ranked list of “Bands Who Aren’t Horrible,” they fall somewhere in the high 6000s. Weirdly, two of the three songs on their Reverbnation page are from this demo, even though they’ve released two albums since. I’m not about to look further into their discography, but that’s a bad sign right there, as these old tunes (the 2005 demo is their first recording) are not so hot. The newer track sounds more or less the same, although I think those drums are real. Back in the 90s, when I was writing a zine, if I got a demo like this from an American band, I might have ginned up some enthusiasm for them, as they’re at least melodic and more or less able to play, but in 2005? In 2014? Not a chance. AND they’re from Germany, where the bar for this sort of thing really should be higher.
— Friar Johnsen

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MORBID SLAUGHTER, Wicca (2014, Boris)

The skull:
This valiant skull tried to take a bite (literally!) out of whatever occult, Illuminati organization bears this particular emblem, and look what it got him: a head full of fire. These are powerful people, and not to be trifled with! They install their toothless cronies in the USDA. They set the prices of goat futures with impunity. They cannot be stopped! They condemn lesser skulls than this to be ground into dust and dumped into the sewer. Some forces are simply too vast, too sinister for even the biggest, dumbest skulls, no matter how righteous, but this martyred skull, this crusader for good governance and transparency, shall not be forgotten so long as the name of “Morbid Slaughter” is on the tongues of good people everywhere.

The music:
The first song on this 7″ has three riffs. Three! One is the solo riff, played once, and the other is like a bridge or something, and it comes up a few times, but at least 80% of this song is a single riff, and not a good one at that, but rather some rudimentary take on Venom, played slightly faster than Venom’s default tempo. The vocals are a corny black metal whisper/snarl, and are awful. The second song has slightly more riffs than the first song (like, maybe it has four), but none of them are any better, or more original, then the other three. What a stupid fucking band. Morbid Slaughter are from Peru, where this kind of oldschool garbage never really went out of style, but these guys operate with all the conviction and vitality of a hipster throwback band from Brooklyn. Screw this noise.
— Friar Johnsen

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GODAWFULNOISE, No Escape (2011, self-released)

The skull:
Godawfulnoise hail from the urban dystopia of Glendale, Arizona, and its to their credit that they’re making a direct statement on their hometown with their cover art. I always assumed that getting out of Arizona was an easy and natural thing to do, but maybe I’m mistaken. I don’t know who invented this black, white, and stenciled motif, but I assume they sit at the head of some sinister grind cabal that enforces the norms of the genre, as pretty much every underground band dresses their releases this way. Usually the look is quite dour, but Godawfulnoise leaven the scene greatly with their widely grinning Big Dumb Skull, who is just beaming positivity, and that despite having a pentagram chiselled into this forehead. It’s a nice/ridiculous touch that the skull is actually a pencil or charcoal sketch, and not a photo, flying in the face of standard practice. The Council of Grind is no doubt displeased. Maybe I can get a member of The Council (of the Elders of the Skull, aka, the one true Council) to ask about it at the next intramural Council Volleyball picnic.

The music:
With a cover like this, you know you’re in for some crusty grind, and Godawfulnoise deliver according to expectations. Actually, there’s more grind than crust, as Godawfulnoise crib about 95% of their sound from Napalm Death, but I’m sure there’s some Discharge somewhere in their collections. While I was recently impressed with the grind of Jesus Ain’t In Poland, Godawfulnoise are utterly unnecessary, offering absolutely nothing that you’re not already getting from Napalm Death, and if you don’t like Napalm Death, you’re definitely not going to like this band. If you’re the sort of person who’s watching blastbeats on the fourth stage at Maryland Death Fest at 11:00am, then by all means, track down this EP (10 songs, 13 minutes) but otherwise, steer clear.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL535

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The skull:
Imagine: you’ve been buried alive. Your hands are bound behind your back, and your feet are also tied together. But, you refuse to just die! You’re gonna make it out of this living hell, you decide, and you enact the only escape plan available to you: you start chewing your way out. You gnaw through the splintery wooden coffin, then you start working on the dirt. Pretty soon, there’s no more room left in your coffin to spit it out, so you have to start swallowing it. Finally, finally, you break through the surface, ready to scream out for help, when you choke on that last subterranean mouthful and die. We’re talking O. Henry levels of irony here, or at least something Edgar Allen Poe might have scribbled on a napkin in a drunken stupor days before coming up with a much better take on the subject.

The music:
Days We Dread serves up the mix of mid-90s gothy death metal like Crematory and late 00s Dark Tranquillity that probably no one was asking for, and it does it with panache. Glum quarter-note downstroked riffs, nasal clean vocals, copious keyboards, and groovy downtuned chugs come together in this middling stew, and while nothing about Engraved is even remotely terrible, nothing is particularly interesting, either. The sound, playing, and pretty much everything else are top notch, but the songwriting is so boring, the source inspirations so uninspiring, that I struggle to imagine why anyone would have thought to make this, but I guess there must be people out there who just really pine for the days when you could load up on eyeliner, sing about how sad you are and how tragic your lovelife is, and still be playing death metal. If you’re that kind of person, then you definitely need this demo. It will complete you. I suppose if you like the last couple Mercenary albums, but wish they were a lot mopier, then this might also work for you. Otherwise, I think you can safely skip this one.
— Friar Johnsen

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HYPNOSIA, Horror Infernal (2012, I Hate)

The skull:
We’ve seen the wolf skullet before, but here we have a skeleskullet, which is a mighty thing indeed. How he gets a comb through those bony locks is a mystery to all but the skull. The dude sporting it is certainly excited, his mouth ahowl and his eyes aflame. Or maybe he’s just angry that the Rogaine he applied to his dome didn’t maintain his magnificent skelebangs. I guess I’d be pissed, too, if I was in that position, but that shit is probably covered by the national health system in Sweden, so it’s not like he’s out a lot of kronor. And in any case, you still look cool, Hypnosia skull, so buck up!

The music:
It walks like a Brazilian duck and it quacks like a Brazilian duck, but this duck is Swedish. Go figure. Seriously, the band name, the logo, the artwork, and the music all sound like Brazilian retro deaththrash, although maybe this is slightly better produced than you’d expect from something genuinely from South America, especially considering these tunes are mostly early demo tracks. Of course, the music basically sounds German, and I’m especially reminded of mid 90s Sodom, filthy and perverted, but Hypnosia’s riffs are a bit trickier than anything Sodom was slinging at the time. A healthy Sepultura influence surely accounts for that, though. This is really just on the wrong side of the line separating “too raw” from “just raw enough” for me, but anyone with a moderate tolerance for grimy third world thrash would surely find these tunes impeccably engineered. This isn’t bad stuff at all; it just isn’t my speed.
— Friar Johnsen

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E.S.T., Live in the Outskirts of Moscow (1993, Mausoluem)

The skull:
Da, comrade, we are having knife. Yes, and gun. You need gun? Take gun, take! Is lightning you need? Also we are having lightning, and star too, yes. Is warm hat you need? Take hat, is bearing leaf of marijuana plant, is very cool. We are having everything you need comrade, and hard rocking, also. E.S.T. has eye out for you! Ha, comrade! You like joke? We are having good humor, for spirit of worker is in us. E.S.T. have many things, have all things, provided by party, for glory of Russia. Go, comrade, and fight, and rock for Russia!

The music:
I’d never heard of E.S.T. (which stands for Electro Shock Therapy) before, but that’s no great surprise, as my awareness of Russian metal is pretty scant. Then again, if I had ever encountered this band before, I would have quickly beat feet in the other direction, as they sound like the non-union Russian equivalent of Razor’s Edge-era AC/DC, with a bit of late The Cult thrown in for good measure (and okay, a little of the more rockin’ Aria sounds of the late 80s, which is really the best thing about E.S.T.) The first half of this compilation is their performance at the 1991 Monsters of Rock festival in Russia (supposedly, although rumors of live-in-the-studio abound), so clearly they were a band of some stature in their homeland, and their music is well played and well put together (even if the vocals are rather shitty, in a Chris Boltendahl way), so I guess if you like that kind of not-quite metal and you don’t mind (mostly) Russian lyrics, then you’d probably love this like I love Aspid and Valkyria, but if you already think one AC/DC was one too many, then you’ll find them twice as bad as their dull inspirations.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL531

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GRAVEYARD, Philosophies of the Reality and Displaced Souls (1997, demo)

The skull:
A lazier BDS you’d be hard pressed to find, but I’ll give them the logo: it’s pretty cool. About the only thing I can think to say about this skull is that it looks a little like it’s sporting some weird hipster moustache/sideburns kinda thing. I really can’t explain what that fuzz on the skull’s left could be besides douchey facial hair, but maybe the lesson here (and the connection to at least the last half of the title) is that neither heaven nor hell can abide by ironic whiskers.

The music:
Trying to parse this title, you would naturally be forgiven for assuming this Graveyard (of the many, many Graveyards) spoke English as a second language, but no, they hailed from New York and evidently just weren’t very good with words. For what it’s worth, they didn’t much play music like Americans either, sounding more like fourth rate Swedes peddling sloppy and disorganized death metal with occasional doomy touches. Which is to say, they sounded like a really bad Furbowl, and that’s no one’s idea of a good time. Honestly, I can get behind the basic vibe here, but the playing is so bad and the songs so drowning in incompetent blasting that the good riffs are like island oases in a sea of shit. The vocals have an appealing L.G. Petrovian sound to them, but when the vocals are the best thing about your death metal band (hello Comecon!) you should really just stop. This was the last Graveyard demo before they were laid to rest, unsigned and unloved, and for everyone’s sake I hope they enrolled in some GED prep classes in their free time thereafter.
— Friar Johnsen

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HELL MUÑECO, Doom Core (2009, demo)

The skull:
This guy reminds me of a Japanese Oni, what with his curved horns and fangs, not to mention the salacious look in his hideous peepers. With dentition like that, closing his mouth is probably next to impossible, but I imagine he gets by, mainly by screaming at all times and avoiding labial consonants. Then again, even if he could get his mouth shut, I guess the absence of lips would still make that sort of sound challenging, but other skulls manage to make them somehow. How, I don’t know! It’s times like this that make me wish we had a skull linguist on retainer to answer these burning questions.

The music:
Droopy doom metal with a cheap drum machine. Hell Muñeco are at least doom of the Solstice sort, and not a straight Sabbath knockoff, so you can expect riffing that’s a little more creative, and a little less reliant on the fuzz pedal for impact, than you get with your average weed-obsessed sludge merchant, but at the same time, the terrible vocals and Casio-grade drum samples really make this an unenjoyable listen, which is a pity because the writing and guitarwork are generally pretty solid, and certainly better than most of the doom bands we encounter around these parts. If the band found a stronger singer and a real drummer, they could probably grow into something interesting, but that could be said of an awful lot of bands, so I’m not holding out for a masterpiece from Hell Muñeco.
— Friar Johnsen