Centipede Abyss is one of the most out-of-the-box thinking labels lately, a collective of very open-minded and creative artists. This review deals with an album that was released earlier this year, yet which shows the intriguing content of both the label, as well as the artist behind this outfit. And I just want to finish and publish this debut for Vertebrae Fetish Totem as soon as possible, because a second recording will be released soon.
So, Vertebrae Fetish Totem is a new outfit by the extremely productive youngster Plaguehammer. Actually, it’s the nickname of a guy who is no stranger to this label at all. Plaguehammer is Jared Moran, who’s active in Zvylpwkua and Ar’lyxkq’wr too; both acts also directly connected with Centipede Abyss. Furthermore one might know this human being from the likes of Dwelling Below, Corpse Arise, Filtheater, Uzumaki, Maggot Crown, Acousal Intrusion, amongst many, many others.
This first album, called Cult, clocks twenty-nine minutes. It’s available digitally, as well as on a strictly limited compact-disc edition, a hand-numbered digipack which will have no reprint. I do not know where the cover-artwork does come from, yet it fits smoothly to the eight tender lullabies. It’s a confronting, intolerant, sadistic and unescapable vision on humanity’s soiled and impure existence, ‘a nurturing festering cognition’ focusing on mankind’s ignorance, which we cannot deny, yet which we cannot control either. It’s our inherent essence that is disgusting, our nature, the inborn core of our being…
Anyway, as from Ruined Mystic Mirror (one of the myriad of mirrors that reflects ‘the amalgamated rot and decay of a thousand steps taken into the intricate neurological disguises you wear’, evidently), we, the innocent listener, get immersed in a rusty vessel filled with corrosive liquids. This is a piss, sorry, a piece that vomits disgust and condescension, spawning the bile that reminds me of some mutated hybrid of Goatlord, Void Meditation Cult and Funeral Of God. Injected by a sweet perfume of psychotropic fungae, an unholy potion of morbidity, dissonance and grime bring both Doom and torture. That ‘doom’ also relates to the tempo, which easily caresses the futile border with the sleaziest Doom-Death related efforts from the Old School. This easily brings me to the tempo, which has it both ways. Many chapters are slow indeed, with sluggish harmonies, sloth-like rhythms and lethargic patterns. Yet, then again, sudden breaks might overpower with unforgiving blasts, pulverizing eruptions and tantalizing affliction.
From aural point, the better part is built around a massive interplay of melodious yet harsh guitar-lines, uncompromising in ethos, yet fine-tuned in execution. Despite the intensity, the whole actually maintains a lovely melodicism; even a lackadaisical character, if you want to. All this gets magically supported by a nasty rhythm section. Down-tuned strings are all-represented, yet the drum-patterns especially spice up the sullen, heartburn porridge. During the slower passages, the percussion creates a thundering rumble; at faster pace, it’s an inescapable avalanche of ultra-sharp pieces of rusty metal and burning cinders.
Yet above all, it’s the angelic voice that puts a mark of peace and fairy on this journey. The throat of Plaguehammer explores every means to rape his own vocal chords. Bestial growls, blood-spitting grunts, spellcrafting and abrasive screams, and crude gurgles hop around like rabid bulls in a corral ablaze. Okay, you don’t understand a word this guy preaches, but you just ‘feel’ the message he’s spreading through his miscreant timbre.
A remarkable element is the addition of some fine-tuned leads and monstrous solos, which go well with the destructive nature behind the whole package. And okay, they might be hidden somewhere within this thick, impenetrable nebula of suffocating venom, because the production is as low-tuned as it is prodigious. Do not expect a surgically clean mix, nor are there any modernistic superficial addenda or ennobled refinements. It’s fat, lo-fi and dingy for sure. I am not sure whether this is sort of a ‘problem’, yet it will surely repel some listeners. Yet then again, it strengthens the f*cked-up message / concept, does it not?!
Recommended if you get aroused by the likes of Necros Christos, Void Meditation Cult, Portal, Ulcerate, Goatlord, or even Immolation / Suffocation / Incantation…
https://centipedeabyss.bandcamp.com/album/cult
https://thecentipedeabyss.teemill.com/
https://www.concreteweb.be/reviews/arlyxkqwr
https://www.concreteweb.be/reviews/zvylpwkua