Dead Hands – Nobody Exists on Purpose EP

thumbnail_ep-cover_RingMasterReview

Just over a year ago, we were taken by and aback by the noise infested fury of British band Sexwolf! and their debut release, the Hangin’ With The Boys EP. Our submission to their senses devouring sound was followed by their demise in the first half of this year. It was a frustration though quickly replaced by intrigue as three quarters of the band, linking up with one half of fellow Midlanders A Werewolf and a second guitarist, emerged as Dead Hands. They have just released debut EP Nobody Exists on Purpose and fair to say any gap left by the loss of one band has been more than filled by a new encounter which sears ears as it excites them.

Creating a maelstrom of fiercely infectious noise from texture reaped from the likes of mathcore, hardcore, grind, and numerous other punk and metal based savagery, Dead Hands have taken little time to stir up attention and it is easy to hear why with Nobody Exists on Purpose. The six track violation is an irritable tempest of abrasive sound and toe curling intensity delivered through an invasion of twisted hooks and demented grooves within a sonic savaging fuelled by some viciously catchy enterprise. It is merciless, at times painfully inhospitable, and constantly a joyously addictive abuse of body and senses.

It all starts with the band’s recent acclaimed single Open Bracket. Straight away guitars are squirting sonic toxicity, tangy riffs soon joined by the heavy insatiable rumble of bass and the scything viciousness of drummer Jenks’ rhythms. It is intensive furious stuff just as infectious as it is barbarous with Richard Phillips spilling his lyrical and vocal venom into the compelling mix. All the flavours mentioned above and more are in open sight within the furious turbulence, all adding to the thick lure of the track.

It is a sign of things to come within the EP, the following Elephants Crush People just as crabby and uncompromising and just as fascinatingly littered with unpredictable trespasses, inventively virulent hooks, and ear catching twists. A mix of The Chariot, Every Time I Die, and Dillinger Escape Plan is an obvious but maybe closest equivalent to the Dead Hands roar with additional Cancer Bats/Brutal Truth hostility.

Diving Board (Jack Christ-Ho) instantly and fractiously devours and punishes while gripping the appetite with more virulently contagious enterprise, it all springing from the Jenk’s initial rolling rhythms. Guitarists Niall Jones and Dabby Gough in turn lay their creative snares, further unavoidable traps as the song overwhelms and sparks body and mind into lustful responses. Of course this is not going to be for everyone but if noise does not annoy but inspires than Dead Hands have the ability to raise the strongest ardour through songs like this and its successor Buck Angel’s Challenging Movies. Arguably the catchiest proposal within the release, the track is a quarrelsome stomp led by the deliciously testy tone and grooves of Daniel San Mogg’s bass, its truculence matched by that of the guitars and vocals. Moments of calmer, post punk lined imagination only adds to the thrilling character of the song, the pinnacle of the EP with ease.

The closing pair of 7 Days (of Craig David) and Close Bracketté finish off Nobody Exists on Purpose, the first a mouth-watering ear plundering wall of heart bled enmity and sonic rancor while the last blasts and tangles ears in a tetchily red-blooded incursion of technical and emotional fury. Both tracks also come equipped with even bolder invention and experimentation and it is no coincidence that as each song gets braver the EP only gets stronger and more irresistible ending on a rousing high.

 Nobody Exists on Purpose is superb, a triumph in many ways with its seeds in the previous exploits of Dead Hand members but blossoming into not only something totally new to them but distinct to pretty much anything else out there. It is a must!

The Nobody Exists on Purpose EP is out now @ https://deadhandsband.bandcamp.com/releases

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Pete RingMaster 14/10/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Hells – Paradise EP

Hells_RingMasterReview

Corrosion is generally a gradual often unstoppable process but in the hands of US fury Hells, it is the swiftest undermining of the senses and emotions. Their attrition comes courtesy of their savage hardcore blend, a voracious sound making the band’s new debut EP, Paradise, one of the most punishing and thrilling things to hit the year so far. At the opposite end of the spectrum to the impression of its title, the six track release is aural and emotional dissonance fuelled by voracious anger and sonic spite. It is also a virulently addictive and rousing assault which asphyxiates and intoxicates the senses from start to finish.

Formed around two years ago, the Philadelphia hailing quartet of vocalist Larry Ragone, guitarist Brad Wallace, bassist Scott Signorino, and drummer Steve DiCicco, former members of bands such as Orchid, Transistor Transistor, Brain Dead, Wolves, Sore Saints, Psychic Teens, and Heathen Reign, soon earned the reputation of being one hellacious live experience. November of 2014 saw the release of a three track demo, a well-received platform for what now violates and thrills ears through Paradise.

The EP opens with its title track, Paradise an immediate wall of sonic and vocal abuse driven by vicious beats and an instinctively swinging groove. It has to be said that for all the punishing and creative antipathy conjured throughout the EP, it also has some of the most addictive and lively grooves and hooks heard in a long while. The outstanding track continues to ravage and incite as the rhythms become more imposing and tenacious with Ragone’s throat spilled scowls even more belligerent as they hang on twisted and venomous tendrils of guitar.

Paradise_RingMasterReview1-800-Shitfit shows itself just as intensive and irritable as it unleashes its emotive and creative animus next. A slab of barbarous punk ‘n’ roll, it grumbles and thrashes across two minutes of aural antipathy with the guitars as angry as the vocals and their roared words, while the bass is as anthemically pissed off as the scything trespass of DiCicco’s beats. Its savaging quickly makes way for that of Weather Report, which from its first breath again leaves nothing in the locker as it lashes into the listener. Grooves flirt and lacerate the senses as rhythms threateningly impose, Ragone’s raw squalls spilling irritancy with every ire drenched syllable; a combination which again simply ignites ears and an eager appetite for the threat.

As gripping and invigorating as things have been to date, the EP hits another plateau of tempting with firstly Tribute. The track is a cauldron of emotional and sonic animosity bound in the most salaciously catchy acidic grooving aligned to predatory riffs with matching rhythms.  It nags and badgers with a venomous glint in its creative eye, living up to its threat yet creating a maelstrom which is littered with the most addictive bait.

It is no different with Bad Apple, the track creating its own individual breakdown of the senses with a fluid blend of intensively assaultive and scavenging tempos around an equally unpredictable rhythmic gait stalking the listener from beginning to end. There is no escaping the hate of the song, or a wish to, though it is soon overshadowed by the brilliant EP closing enmity of Night Creeps. From its initial drone nagging of the senses, the track is rancorous alchemy, a bad-blooded proposal to brew thick lust for. Within that initial sonic niggle, DiCicco’s sticks rise to create a rousing shuffle before settling a touch as short grooves and melodic toxicity joins Ragone at his least hostile on the EP, though there is no mistaking the bitterness lining his prowling delivery. The song is hypnotic, a stylish yet bestial challenge which grinds down the defences while creating webs of contagious enterprise. At the time, it is also brewing a boldly simmering in intensity and jaundice, that growing into a fiercer rabid beast by its close.

The track is a brilliant end to a seriously arousing encounter from a band placing themselves aside certainly the likes of Pigs, Sofy Major, and Brutal Truth in one foul swoop. A must for all hardcore/noise abuse fans.

The Paradise EP is out now via Seeing Red Records @ https://hells-band.bandcamp.com/album/paradise or https://seeingredrecords.bandcamp.com/album/paradise-ep

https://www.facebook.com/givethemhells/

Pete RingMaster 17/05/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Six String Slaughter – Born Unspoiled

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Creating a tempestuous onslaught bred from the pestilential malevolence of death metal and the virulent antagonism of thrash, Danish metallers Six String Slaughter unleash their debut album to reinforce and push into greater attention their emergence as one of the more compelling protagonists within extreme metal. Ten tracks of exhaustingly confrontational and ravenously intensive enterprise, the release is a brutal and riveting protagonist twisting an old school spawned sound with intrusive invention and merciless sonic savagery. It is fair to say that the album is not flooded with striking uniqueness and undiscovered toxicity but with the band members bringing forward two decades of experience and adventure into its ruinous incitement, Born Unspoiled is a ruggedly accomplished aggressor with a hunger and intent which leaves the pack in its wake.

Six String Slaughter was formed in 2007 by ex- Corpus Mortale members Søren Jensen (guitars/bass) and Nicholas Maschøln (drums) who not having played together for many years decided to “collaborate on this new project to see if the original energy was still there.” Spending a year writing songs and searching for the right vocalist, Daniel Wilkens was brought into the band which swiftly led to the release of The World Slaughter EP. Their debut release was eagerly received and met with acclaim as was the Frederikssund trio’s The Next Slaughter EP which was uncaged a year later in 2010. Signing with Horror Pain Gore Death Productions not so long ago, the band now unleash their first full-length and such its corrosive rabidity of sound and intent aligned to pure thrash contagion it would be foolish not to expect similar and stronger attention rising up around the Born Unspoiled as with those earlier encounters.

The album opens with its title track and in no time is running over the senses with nagging riffs and heavily swung rhythms which are soon joined by the bear like growls of Wilkens. It is irresistible bait especially as a hornets nest of riffery frontcoverniggles away before being pushed aside by an intensive heavyweight pressure of vocal and portentous energy. It is a fleeting moment in the persistently turning gait of the song though, the great irritant of riffs returning to re-ignite the senses and imagination whilst Maschøln pounds the former to an inch of their being with inventive and violent beats. Jensen casts an inescapable web with his guitar alongside the deliciously threatening and throaty bass endeavour which adds further to the masterful and pleasingly unpredictable start to the album, though it is soon left standing by the outstanding Holy Lies. The second track from its first breath is swinging grooves and rhythms around like Godzilla throwing buildings, every second a colossal incitement of creative rabidity and toxic enticement honed into one of the year’s best tracks. Managing to lumber with the sheer weight of its intensity but also bounding with voracious enterprise, the song is magnificent, a horned beast driven by the craft and energy many bands dream of and few achieve.

The following Gathering Dust makes a more reserved but concentrated entrance with a winding flame of guitar. It is soon a rampant barbarity but still reins in some of its rancor and intensity to stalk rather than devour ears. Not quite matching its predecessors though, the song still fires up thoughts and emotions potently ready for the challenging maliciousness of Everywhere (There are Prophets). It also prowls the senses but finds a greater concentration of infectiousness to its core hostility whilst brawling group calls add to the persistently gripping guttural baiting of Wilkens. Riffs lash and tease with open rancor whilst rhythmically again the song is a maelstrom of attitude and viciousness, it all making for a thrilling violation.

Both Nothing but Death in the End and I am not at War bring a different colour to the constant pugnacity of the release, the first a corrosive predation of darker toned riffs and bass predation twisted into a virulent and mouth-watering groove of the richest persuasion. A brew for addictiveness but tempering its inescapable bait with a blackened sonic expression which slowly meanders and permeates the senses from within the unrelenting blasting of Maschøln, the track is another pinnacle of the album swiftly backed by its successor. With only the lyrical prowess something to challenge with its at times ‘lazy’ and simplistic repetition, the track is still a forceful and captivating quarrel to sink eager teeth into for strong satisfaction.

Virulent Narcissism is a less dramatic brute of a song but still holds plenty to light ears and appetite with its strenuous riffing and sharp grooves within a cage of pungent rhythms whilst the next up Careless which features Anders Lundemark of Konkhra, is a tangle of waspish grooves and crippling rhythms led by bile splashed snarls. Like the previous song it also fails to reach heights of previous tracks but makes a statement to enhance the album and puts other bands in the shade.

Born Unspoiled is brought to a close by firstly the brawly charms of Building the Monuments and an excellent cover of the Brutal Truth track Birth of Ignorance, each a maelstrom of intensity and sound bringing an outstanding release to a thunderously thrilling conclusion. As said earlier maybe strong originality is a low factor in Six String Slaughter’s album but few death or thrash blended releases have pleased and impressed as powerfully or with the shape of invention the band offers here.

Born Unspoiled is available via Horror Pain Gore Death Productions now @ http://hpgd.bandcamp.com/album/born-unspoiled

http://www.sixstringslaughter.com

8.5/10

RingMaster 20/08/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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The Last Ten Seconds Of Life – Invivo[Exvivo]

 

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    With more of a storm than a buzz brewing up around US metallers The Last Ten Seconds Of Life, the Mansfield, Pennsylvania quartet unleash their new album Invivo[Exvivo] to ravage not only their already seemingly submissive homeland but equally Europe and the UK. Ten tracks of virulently malicious and ridiculously compelling extreme provocation the album is a ferocious mix of filth clad aural brutality. A voracious maelstrom of everything from deathcore to grind, groove to nu metal and a flood of plenty more essences poisoning its vitriolic glory, the band’s sound takes no prisoners but neither does it leave the listener searching for rapacious imagination or feverishly rewarding adventure. Some of the tracks take longer to pull a submission than others from the passions but ultimately all succeed on one quite exhausting and riveting scourge.

     Formed in 2010 and consisting of guitarist and songwriter Wyatt McLaughlin, vocalist Storm Strope, bassist Anthony Madara, and drummer Christian Fisher, The Last Ten Seconds Of Life not only build on but stretch strenuously the seeds sown and bred on previous releases, the Justice EP of 2010, debut album Know Your Exits in 2011, and the Warpath EP of the following year. Invivo[Exvivo] takes everything to new impacting levels, its impressive savagery and inventiveness the band at a new vicious creative height. Released by Workhorse Music, it is fair to say that the album is not quite the perfect beast, at times missing a few opportunities in a torrent of successes to tantalise as it rips out the jugular, but there is never a moment or second offered which does not flare up the senses and passions into an excited state.

      Engineered by Grant McFarland and produced by Carson Slovak (August Burns Read, Texas in July), Invivo[Exvivo] last10seconds_infvivo_finalcoveruncages Fertile Steps first to leap upon and savage the senses. The opening breath of the song is an antagonistic brawl and things only intensify as rhythms punch and slap with merciless and spite whilst riffs grind out insidious grooves around the impressive varied venomous squalls of Strope. From the first minute of his appearance the vocalist impresses and leaves ears as hungry for his destructive narrative as the carnivorous sounds around him. The track itself has a definite Slipknot meets Carcass feel at times but also with an unrelenting drench of Pig Destroyer saliva soaking the results.

    The immense and thrilling start is soon taken up and further by False Awakening and the following A Dime A Dozen, both sonic carnivores which tear through the ears with an intensive heavyweight predation and rhythmic stalking. The first comes from the violent throes of demons, in tone and effect soaked vocals which mingle with the guttural spewing which spills bile with every outpouring. The track stomps as it comes to an early conclusion allowing a breath to be swallowed before its successor produces a pestilential fury of unpredictable and persistently shifting sounds and flavours. Grooves and carnal riffery are irresistible bait in the torrential contagion and malevolently cantankerous heart of the confrontation. It is the first major pinnacle of the album though not that many steps above what came before to be honest such the impressive start of the album.

     Numbskull is the nasty spawn of a hard core and grind union; a track which rampages over and slowly preys on its victim with a continually switching creative intent, again a Slipknot like prompting with Devildriver animosity and Brutal Truth hatred a suggestive texture. It is a downtuned sonic pestilence easy to be consumed by and drool over as is the next up tide of ferocity The Face, a track which scars and seduces simultaneously though both abilities come with an untamed rapacious corrosion.

    Morality emerges from a winding sonic enticement initially before placing itself intimidatingly around the ears to take rhythmic and melodically bred violent swipes. It is a striking entrance but soon losing a part of its compulsion as it employs spoken vocals/sample within a maze of guitar sculpted descriptive noise. The track is strong and constantly slipping in a prod at the appetite but is devoid of the spark which made the previous tracks so irresistible. Arguably the song is too adventurous for its own good and certainly there is not the same fluidity linking all its imagination as that impressive elsewhere on the release. Its ‘weakness’ is instantly amended by Haste Makes Waste and Deadfast though, the first a magnetic tsunami of intensity speared by a great and varied swinish vocal delivery from Strope yet again. The second of the two is another best track contender, niggling hypnotic grooves opening up the throat of the song before its roar and ferocity storms the barricades with a delicious part hardcore, part industrial metal, and all extreme metal esurience. Relentlessly twisting its body and potent resources around and within itself, it is an exceptional blitz of ideas and flavouring which just gets better and better with a great sludgy intensity to its closing incitement.

    To be honest Skeletal took more time than any of the songs to fully convince, though it’s impossibly black and malignant heart and lethal sonic emprise was swift in its captivation. Eventually it did prove itself to be one of the strongest hatefully impressive blessings on the release. Its triumph makes way for the closing Ego Death, a seven minute plus infestation of grooves and rancorous imagination which gnaws away at and suffocates the senses with the densest malevolence jaundiced assault on the album. It completes in Invivo[Exvivo] an outstanding , absorbing, and invigorating intrusion which without being the complete devil is a demon record to make The Last Ten Seconds Of Life your next best brutal friend.

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9/10

RingMaster 16/01/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Utopium – Vicious Consolation / Virtuous Totality

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If you are looking for nasty then Vicious Consolation/Virtuous Totality from Portuguese grindcore annihilators Utopium will feed your desires and then some. It is a fearsome atrocity of sonic viciousness and intensive malevolence but equally a compelling and deceptively contagious violation of primal enterprise and howling malice. The band bring an additional brawling hateful crust and sludge animosity to their grind driven destructiveness and though arguably it takes a few listens to truly make its persuasion the album is one you cannot refuse or escape.

The quintet from Lisbon formed in 2007, making their presence known strongly at home with their first demo Rehearsal the following year and their audience wasting live appearances. A few line-up changes came across the years but Utopium has gone from strength to strength, their strongly awaited debut EP Conceptive Prescience in 2010 easily living up to brewed expectations whilst receiving impressive acclaim, and a 7” split release with Lifedeceiver the following year only enhancing their growing status within extreme metal, as did their shows alongside the likes of Rotten Sound, Misery Index, Despised Icon and Wormrot as well as festivals appearances at places like Bracara Extreme and Milhões de Festa.

Released via Bleak Recordings, Vicious Consolation / Virtuous Totality has all the armoury, invention, and ‘charm’ to lift the utopium_coverband to the next level of recognition. From the opening torrent of aural abuse of Null Rousting through to its last primal second, the album is not an experience for the weak hearted or kneed but from start to finish it leaves an exhausted but certain intense satisfaction in its place. The opener arrives through dark intimidation, its corrosive breath wrapped around a lumbering oppressive energy and pressing hungrily upon the senses. The bass offers a resonating growl alongside serpentine vocals and sonic squalls, all brewing towards the expulsion of malicious unbridled destruction. Into its now octane fuelled charge the track rips the ear apart, its riffs searing flesh and rhythms cracking bone but it is all ok as an impossibly addictive groove spines and seduces the whole annihilatory confrontation. The climax of the song returns to the intense heavy massed rummage through emotions whilst its lingering sonic farewell leads the senses right into the fury of Lodging In A Rut. It is mere seconds in presence, every one a blight upon the ear but equally a very pleasing scourge.

The song is like many, barely around long enough to blister the senses even once, though that is all most need to make a lingering impact and it has to be said that the varied range of lengths from seconds to at most four long tortuous minutes, only emphasise and brings further light the wealth of imagination and inventiveness beneath the constant ruinous attack. It also allows eighteen venomous predators to wreak real potent havoc across the sonic battlefield that is Vicious Consolation / Virtuous Totality.

The likes of the excellent Held Tombstone, with its thick black tar embrace gnawing away with each vehement driven riff and crippling rhythm soaked by punk rage, leaves disorientation and greedy hunger for more whilst the contagiously grooved Jarred Into Newtons recruits any remaining doubt and resistance with carnal bred ease, its insistent and sharply honed riff driven scything another irresistible violation.

The first nine tracks hold their own with those mentioned the biggest highlights but the Virtuous Totality portion of the release is its most compelling stance and immediately makes that declaration with the monstrous Dissolution, its carnivorous rabidity merciless and demanding especially through the throaty bass prowl and sonic searing unleashed. It is powerfully backed up by the spiteful Retrace and Rummage, all of its thirty eight seconds a scalding toxin, and the ravenous Thrive A Starch, a track which towers above the senses with leviathan intensity and iron clad metal aggression and proceeds to enflame the passions with caustic aural irreverence and undefined but unavoidably addictive grooves from guitar and bass.

The best track follows soon after in the black-hearted shape of Owner of A Kept Abidance. From an ear plundering slow vindictive consumption with vocals dripping malignancy with every intelligibly growled syllable, the song explodes into a torrentially driven flume of rancor sculpted sonics and similarly bred rhythmic abuse. It is a maelstrom of hostile intensive virulence and vitriolic grooves which are irrepressibly seductive as is its open enmity, and by far the best track on the album.

With the likes of Revamp The Disinfection and the brilliant Thin-Skinned Skill ensuring Vicious Consolation / Virtuous Totality finishes on a pinnacle of vitriol, Utopium has delivered one of the best extreme releases this year. If the likes of Brutal Truth, Nasum, Extreme Noise Terror, and Terrorizer do it for you, then this will surely thrill.

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8.5/10

RingMaster 13/05/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Nolentia: May the Hand that Holds the Match that will Set this World on Fire be Blessed Above All

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    Is it possible to enjoy an album like May the Hand that Holds the Match that will Set this World on Fire be Blessed Above All when it is such an abrasive and destructive endurance to suffer? Quite simply yes though it took time to make its final persuasion though it might just be it wore down the defences and forced a submission. Either way by its completion the new album from French agiteurs Nolentia leaves one infernally violated but rewardingly spent.

Released through Kaotoxin Records, May the Hand… is a furnace of seventeen unbridled grindcore annihilations. Fusing a mix of grind, hardcore, doom, crust, and sonic blistering, Nolentia rip the senses into whining victims whilst simultaneously burning synapses with a venomous acid which eats away until only mental sushi is left.  As you can imagine the band which formed in 2007, is not an encounter which holds back on unleashing pain and a merciless form of intensity which permanently brands, but at times it is also a tempest with the most compelling and bewitching of grooves and imagination submerged within the full on abuse. From their first demo Sell Your Soul to Grind’n’Roll! of 2008, the band found themselves sharing stages with the likes of The Arson Project, Benighted, Dagoba, Disgorge, Imply In All, Inhume, Knut, Sylvester Staline, Textures, and more. The following year brought their debut album …One Loud Noise and It’s Gone, a release which put them on the horizon of a great many with its unpredictable squalling sounds. During the next years the Toulouse trio successfully left Brutal Grind Assault 2011 buckling under their storm with bands such as General Surgery, Maruta, and Wormrot, playing alongside bands like Atara, Exhumed, Magrudergrind, Mass Grave and Rotten Sound, and late last year the signing with Kaotoxin.

Their second album is an intense and dark monster which either invades and consumes with the predatory instinct of an exhausting 760137001720_TOX017_Nolentia_artwork_1400x1400_300malevolent swamp or just chews up and spits out the listener in a violent brawl of sonic outrage, often combining the two as with opener The Boiling Frog Principle a track which prowls with a malice which explodes into sheer nasty turbulence. As throughout the album, the bass in first song is a deliciously intimidating and bruising spoke in the wheel of sanity, its insidious breath as corrosive and threatening as the sonic discord fervour which slashes with sabre like accuracy on the ear elsewhere.

Songs like A Lament for the Road Kill and Xie Xie continue the pleasing unrelenting heavy ache in sound and effect with a varied yet uniformal sonic profanation, though they do not spark any lasting addiction to be honest. That is soon offered by the soon to revel highlights of the album starting with Too Far Gone, a song which actually recedes in its aggressive stance to unleash hypnotic rhythms and a strangely seductive melodic wooing within the persistent heavy grazing. The album as it progresses gets better and more appealing, its mid waypoint where the convincing is won in the favour of the release, brought on by tracks like the mighty caustic barracking of Wright. The song is a magnetic assault with twists in attack, pace, and invention to leave one equally intrigued and compelled as they are left smarting under its demanding assault.

Throughout the bass is a thrilling aggressor and in The Ticking of the Clock, a brutal hunger upon the ear which drives the destruction of the song deeper than ever. The dual vocals rip through flesh across every song on the album, their two levels of extremes a perfect ravishment against the equally devouring sounds and here they find their nastiest pinnacle. Gasoline and All About, the best track on the release, leave their own distinct sonic rape on the senses with the latter stealing top honours through its stalking gait and teasing sonic flamed groove which spears the thunderous ruptures which explode within the delicious inflexible grind.

May the Hand… is certainly not an album for everyone, as quite simply it is a release which either hurts or pleasures; for those who truly connect with its grindcore might though it satisfyingly does both. If the likes of Pig Destroyer, Brutal Truth, and Napalm Death hit a chord than Nolentia definitely needs an investigation, they convinced us…eventually.

http://www.facebook.com/NolentiaNoise

7/10

RingMaster 04/02/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Primate: Draw Back A Stump

A brawling and bruising riot of hardcore and grindcore, Draw Back A Stump from Atlanta punks Primate is a no holds barred storm of satisfaction. It does not exactly rip up trees of originality but just flattens the whole forest with insatiable energy, formidable aggression, and an irresistible dirty infection.

Originally self released as an extremely limited edition the album has been remixed and remastered by Relapse Records and set up with extra bonus tracks. As much as limited releases have that added appeal, if you manage to grab one anyway, it would have been criminal for an album like Draw Back A Stump to have remained out of the reach of genre fans at large.

Primate is the unleashing of the combined talent of Brutal Truth vocalist Kevin Sharp, Mastodon and  ex-Lethargy guitarist Bill Kelliher , bassist Dave Whitworth (Timebomb77, The Despised and Otophobia), guitarist Mike Brennan (The Despised, Otophobia and currently Javelina), and drummer Shayne Huff (The Despised, Bloody Sods and Virulent Strain). The band is an all muscular cast of musicians steeped in extreme punk creativity and outstanding musical brutality leading to no real surprise as to how good Draw Back A Stump is. The album is not simply a harsh obliteration of the senses with the deepest attitude but a release which pulls in eager tendencies from stoner and sludge metal as well as some simple in your face punk. It is a feast of sounds which do exactly what they say on the tin, leave one grinning in an eagerly offered up pool of willingly given blood and sweat.

The title track ignites the riot with an immediate inciting bass riff and hypnotic beats whilst guitars stroke the ear with a caustic grin. It soon emerges as a mischievous stomp, its energy tempered as if sizing up and picking spots with its riled riffs and hungry intensity. Though a mere one and a half minutes it is an opener to light the touch paper for an inferno of passion every time, those fires further fanned by the following blistering Global Division. The music sets one up for the contempt and aggressive breath of the song, Sharp wonderfully forcing it through the ear with his unmistakeable scathing growls. As the song feasts upon the senses the band reminds of old UK punks Angelic Upstarts, Sharp delivering a similar attack and delivery to vocalist Thomas (Mensi) Mensforth.

The song leads immediately into Hellbound with the great rhythms of Huff directing proceedings and inviting the rest of the band to lay down a contagion of grooves and incendiary riffs for a direct pleasuring of the heart. As those before and all to follow the song is fully anthemic and in control of emotions and limbs from first note to last. With guitars scorching the atmosphere with blazing chords and sonic fallout the track is glorious something you have to tag the whole album as.

Tracks like Silence Of Violence with its distressed stoner rasp and the out and out rock roll dirt bowl that is Drinking And Driving continue the outstanding quality and variety to the songs, both a mesh of greed and antagonistic teasing from riffs and rhythms let alone the fine guitar enterprise of Kelliher.

There really are not enough words to say how enjoyable and gratifying Draw Back A Stump is. Ok it does not break through to build new boundaries for hardcore and punk but it hardly matters when the band do something much better than most other similar veined bands and openly different to what the members are recognised for.

Closing with more brawls called songs like Wasted Youth, Pride, and Reform?, the album leaves one desperately hoping there will be more from Primate which is the indication otherwise that would be another crime in the making.

http://www.primategrind.com/

RingMaster 03/07/2012

Copyright RingMaster: My FreeCoyright

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