Making an agreeably grouchy introduction to themselves through debut EP N.M.N, is Italian metallers Name Means Nothing, a sextet which may not startle with their first clutch of metalcore/deathcore fuelled songs but will certainly lure plenty of eager attention. The four track encounter is a raging assault of bitter rhythms, voracious riffs, and vocals that ravage the senses. It is a potent base to expand their tempest of sonic spite and irritable temptation ahead, so strong that already we are impatiently anticipating their next outing.
Formed at the beginning of 2014, Name Means Nothing consists of the dual vocal attack of Manuel Scarabaggio and Tomas Gerbec, guitarists Matteo Bucciol and Samuel Tinunin, bassist Luca Piras, and drummer Marko Zotti. Though not boundary stretching, it is fair to say that the band means business with their sound, EP opener In True, swift evidence. Its thirty second length is a stalking of riffs, barging rhythms, and a trespass of vocal hostility, all delivered in a Slipknot meets Suicide Silence like tempest. There is obviously not a lot to its brief body but it sets ears and attention up nicely for the sonic rabidity of Disease Of Men. Again riffs and rhythms harass and savage as the twin vocal trespass grips and sears the senses; it all quickly aligned to tendrils of sonic acidity and an ill-tempered virulence. There are no ground-breaking moments of originality to the song and indeed EP, but it does not stop either igniting the imagination and a greedy appetite as it rattles bones.
Unforgettable End springs it’s ravaging from an initial southern laced groove next; ire spewing out in sound and voice as the track drills deeper into the psyche with every predatory torrent of riffs and rhythmic battering. That initial bait continues to wind around the elements of the turbulence though, spicing up the fury of the track and ensuring that its metal/death core canvas has plenty more in shape and character to tempt and growl with.
N.M.N is completed by Pictures Of Reality, a similarly sculpted and honed brutality also keen to embrace a contagious toxicity to its ruinous intent and sonic carnality. It perfectly epitomises the EP, its body and touch familiar yet bred with a fresh and unruly scent of creative infection which worms under the skin to leave Name Means Nothing as a band a great many like us will want to know and hear more of.
Bottom-line is that the EP is an impressive start by the Italian scourge, one easy to expect only growing bigger and better, and probably more destructive, over time.
The N.M.N EP is out now as a name your price download @ http://namemeansnothing.bandcamp.com/album/n-m-n
https://www.facebook.com/nnmntv
Pete RingMaster 12/11/2015
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
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riveting invention. There is toxicity to the grooves which, not only in this song, has a Pantera-esque quality but also a waspish nagging character which increases an already keen appetite for song and album. Its sizzling hostility is matched by that of The Lie which steps in next. It is a song unafraid to develop a contentment to stalk as well as simply rage at the senses whilst coating its grooves and vocals with a southern fried metal edge as it stomps with virulent endeavour. The track’s bracing presence makes way for firstly the groove metal coated predation of Last Words Are Lost and then the volatile character of the album’s title track. The first of the two without stepping from the shadow of the previous songs, lurches with nostrils flared and sinews stretched, offering a mix of Bloodsimple and Exodus in its own unique form. Its successor picks up a recognisable old school hook and lays it openly down before its expressive sonic narrative, the bait soon embroiled in a steady but dirty rage of voice and sound. It is equally prone to exploding with uncaged viciousness and intensity, planting another notable signpost in the new direction of the band’s sound.
of sound and enterprise. As in most songs, every passage and indeed moment comes with a subsequent twist in the flow and imagination of the incitement, here a sultry and tangy croon of guitar the respite in the tempestuous majesty of the aural protest.
air accentuated by sirens and an apocalyptic ambience. With the scene set, the track emerges from the anarchy with forcibly twisting grooves and percussive provocation speared by vicious rhythms skirted by predatory riffing. The vocals of Fawns snarl and growl with bile soaked animosity, his direct intent sharing enough variety to engage whilst musically the band lashes and entices the senses with a masterful and bold invention. The song is not the most malevolent and violent proposition but holds an intimidation and intensity which leaves knees buckled and ears scarred as its imagination captures that of its recipient with ease and enterprise.
