#apr25 — Public Fediverse posts

Phantom – Tyrants of Wrath Review

By Tyme

Vampires and castles and axes, oh my! In addition to a love for the video game Castlevania, these are some of the favorite things for Guadalajara, Mexico’s Phantom, reflected in the cool Meagan Lemay cover art. I had a fair amount of fun with Phantom‘s 2023 debut album, Handed to Execution. It’s a tasty little slab of thrashy speed metal that took me back to the halcyon days of Kill ‘Em All Metallica and Show No Mercy Slayer. When I saw Phantom‘s follow-up, Tyrants of Wrath, floating around in the sump pit, I waded into Castle de AMG’s mucky moat, battling tentacled meanies and dodging Grier‘s skid mark-ruined speedos to retrieve it. I was eager to find out if Tyrants of Wrath would fill me with war lust and have me storming the gates or leave me non-plussed and in my cups, lazily slumped next to a fire.

Tyrants of Wrath sounds straight out of 1985 and finds Phantom tweaking the more straightforward formula used on Handed to Execution. Carryover traces of early Metallica and Slayer, with some Kreator and Razor bits thrown in for good measure, remain intact as forays into trad-metal, second-wave black metal, and atmospheric organ/piano interludes attempt to expand Phantom‘s overall sonicscape. JC Necrohex and Harel Mortem fly across fretboards in flurries of furious riffs and chaotic lead work, imbuing early tracks like “The Tower of Seth” and “Violent Invasion” with raw, thrashy, speed metal intensity that lands just this side of completely unhinged. The chorus to the Midnight-fueled banger “Thunderbeast” will have you pounding your chest, eager to make war, not love. JC’s vocals remain on point for the style, pairing blackened growls ala Kreator‘s Endless Pain-era Ventor mixed with high-pitched screams that would put a smile on Tom Araya’s face. Rair Tavizon provides pounding bass lines, and JP Alatorre rounds out the rhythm section, turning in a serviceable drum performance that mostly corrals Phantom‘s chaotic acrobatics, but not always. With more expansive songwriting and experimentation, Tyrants of Wrath is the product of a young band broadening its musical horizons.

The ambition of Phantom‘s vision exceeds the resources available to execute it successfully. While the front edge of Tyrants‘ sword does positive damage, holes in the castle’s defenses start to show when “Nimbus” rolls around. Meant as a traditional nod toward old-school influences like Manilla Road and Heavy Load, the track suffers from weak instrumentation—its strongest pulse some Maiden-esque dual guitar leads—and clean vocals that never stretch from their narrow baritone range, hobbling with broken wings, a track meant to soar like an eagle. Add in the amateurish, Egyptian-tinged “Lost in the Sands,” where the guitars and drums fall entirely out of sync and distract rather than charm, to the very awkwardly performed, ill-flowing piano interlude “Nocturnal Opus 666,” and it’s clear Phantom is unable to stretch far enough to fulfill Tyrants of Wrath‘s intended goal.

With a runtime of just over forty-eight minutes, Tyrants of Wrath is far from the brevity of Handed to Execution, which is disappointing because the unrealized gains of Phantom‘s experimentation lead to this bloat. That’s not to say every experiment fails, as the spooky intro, spunky-punk bass, and tremolo strumming of “Dance of the Spiders” works in a mostly non-Phantom way, and closer “Dark Wings of Death,” an excellent amalgamation of speed-thrashy chugs and trad-heavy, war horse galloping riffs make for a trver representation of what an evolved Phantom is capable of. I’m happy my active listening of “Dark Wings of Death” allowed me to reach that conclusion since, sadly, the fatigue I felt during my initial, traditionally linear listening sessions left me apathetic to this last song’s successful charms.

Phantom is a fun and very young band, which works in their favor as they continue to evolve and find their footing. Handed to Execution was a nostalgically compelling and raucously promising debut. While I think Tyrants of Wrath, despite its expansive intentions, sees Phantom take a step back, there’s a lot to look forward to as well. I commend these youngsters for having the courage to look beyond the relative success of their previous effort to do something exactly as they want. There are glimpses on Tyrants of Wrath of what a more mature third Phantom outing could sound like, and you can bet I’ll be there to listen to it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #HighRollerRecords #Kreator #Metallica #MexicanMetal #Phantom #Razor #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal #TyrantsOfWrath

Phantom – Tyrants of Wrath Review

By Tyme

Vampires and castles and axes, oh my! In addition to a love for the video game Castlevania, these are some of the favorite things for Guadalajara, Mexico’s Phantom, reflected in the cool Meagan Lemay cover art. I had a fair amount of fun with Phantom‘s 2023 debut album, Handed to Execution. It’s a tasty little slab of thrashy speed metal that took me back to the halcyon days of Kill ‘Em All Metallica and Show No Mercy Slayer. When I saw Phantom‘s follow-up, Tyrants of Wrath, floating around in the sump pit, I waded into Castle de AMG’s mucky moat, battling tentacled meanies and dodging Grier‘s skid mark-ruined speedos to retrieve it. I was eager to find out if Tyrants of Wrath would fill me with war lust and have me storming the gates or leave me non-plussed and in my cups, lazily slumped next to a fire.

Tyrants of Wrath sounds straight out of 1985 and finds Phantom tweaking the more straightforward formula used on Handed to Execution. Carryover traces of early Metallica and Slayer, with some Kreator and Razor bits thrown in for good measure, remain intact as forays into trad-metal, second-wave black metal, and atmospheric organ/piano interludes attempt to expand Phantom‘s overall sonicscape. JC Necrohex and Harel Mortem fly across fretboards in flurries of furious riffs and chaotic lead work, imbuing early tracks like “The Tower of Seth” and “Violent Invasion” with raw, thrashy, speed metal intensity that lands just this side of completely unhinged. The chorus to the Midnight-fueled banger “Thunderbeast” will have you pounding your chest, eager to make war, not love. JC’s vocals remain on point for the style, pairing blackened growls ala Kreator‘s Endless Pain-era Ventor mixed with high-pitched screams that would put a smile on Tom Araya’s face. Rair Tavizon provides pounding bass lines, and JP Alatorre rounds out the rhythm section, turning in a serviceable drum performance that mostly corrals Phantom‘s chaotic acrobatics, but not always. With more expansive songwriting and experimentation, Tyrants of Wrath is the product of a young band broadening its musical horizons.

The ambition of Phantom‘s vision exceeds the resources available to execute it successfully. While the front edge of Tyrants‘ sword does positive damage, holes in the castle’s defenses start to show when “Nimbus” rolls around. Meant as a traditional nod toward old-school influences like Manilla Road and Heavy Load, the track suffers from weak instrumentation—its strongest pulse some Maiden-esque dual guitar leads—and clean vocals that never stretch from their narrow baritone range, hobbling with broken wings, a track meant to soar like an eagle. Add in the amateurish, Egyptian-tinged “Lost in the Sands,” where the guitars and drums fall entirely out of sync and distract rather than charm, to the very awkwardly performed, ill-flowing piano interlude “Nocturnal Opus 666,” and it’s clear Phantom is unable to stretch far enough to fulfill Tyrants of Wrath‘s intended goal.

With a runtime of just over forty-eight minutes, Tyrants of Wrath is far from the brevity of Handed to Execution, which is disappointing because the unrealized gains of Phantom‘s experimentation lead to this bloat. That’s not to say every experiment fails, as the spooky intro, spunky-punk bass, and tremolo strumming of “Dance of the Spiders” works in a mostly non-Phantom way, and closer “Dark Wings of Death,” an excellent amalgamation of speed-thrashy chugs and trad-heavy, war horse galloping riffs make for a trver representation of what an evolved Phantom is capable of. I’m happy my active listening of “Dark Wings of Death” allowed me to reach that conclusion since, sadly, the fatigue I felt during my initial, traditionally linear listening sessions left me apathetic to this last song’s successful charms.

Phantom is a fun and very young band, which works in their favor as they continue to evolve and find their footing. Handed to Execution was a nostalgically compelling and raucously promising debut. While I think Tyrants of Wrath, despite its expansive intentions, sees Phantom take a step back, there’s a lot to look forward to as well. I commend these youngsters for having the courage to look beyond the relative success of their previous effort to do something exactly as they want. There are glimpses on Tyrants of Wrath of what a more mature third Phantom outing could sound like, and you can bet I’ll be there to listen to it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #HighRollerRecords #Kreator #Metallica #MexicanMetal #Phantom #Razor #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal #TyrantsOfWrath

Phantom – Tyrants of Wrath Review

By Tyme

Vampires and castles and axes, oh my! In addition to a love for the video game Castlevania, these are some of the favorite things for Guadalajara, Mexico’s Phantom, reflected in the cool Meagan Lemay cover art. I had a fair amount of fun with Phantom‘s 2023 debut album, Handed to Execution. It’s a tasty little slab of thrashy speed metal that took me back to the halcyon days of Kill ‘Em All Metallica and Show No Mercy Slayer. When I saw Phantom‘s follow-up, Tyrants of Wrath, floating around in the sump pit, I waded into Castle de AMG’s mucky moat, battling tentacled meanies and dodging Grier‘s skid mark-ruined speedos to retrieve it. I was eager to find out if Tyrants of Wrath would fill me with war lust and have me storming the gates or leave me non-plussed and in my cups, lazily slumped next to a fire.

Tyrants of Wrath sounds straight out of 1985 and finds Phantom tweaking the more straightforward formula used on Handed to Execution. Carryover traces of early Metallica and Slayer, with some Kreator and Razor bits thrown in for good measure, remain intact as forays into trad-metal, second-wave black metal, and atmospheric organ/piano interludes attempt to expand Phantom‘s overall sonicscape. JC Necrohex and Harel Mortem fly across fretboards in flurries of furious riffs and chaotic lead work, imbuing early tracks like “The Tower of Seth” and “Violent Invasion” with raw, thrashy, speed metal intensity that lands just this side of completely unhinged. The chorus to the Midnight-fueled banger “Thunderbeast” will have you pounding your chest, eager to make war, not love. JC’s vocals remain on point for the style, pairing blackened growls ala Kreator‘s Endless Pain-era Ventor mixed with high-pitched screams that would put a smile on Tom Araya’s face. Rair Tavizon provides pounding bass lines, and JP Alatorre rounds out the rhythm section, turning in a serviceable drum performance that mostly corrals Phantom‘s chaotic acrobatics, but not always. With more expansive songwriting and experimentation, Tyrants of Wrath is the product of a young band broadening its musical horizons.

The ambition of Phantom‘s vision exceeds the resources available to execute it successfully. While the front edge of Tyrants‘ sword does positive damage, holes in the castle’s defenses start to show when “Nimbus” rolls around. Meant as a traditional nod toward old-school influences like Manilla Road and Heavy Load, the track suffers from weak instrumentation—its strongest pulse some Maiden-esque dual guitar leads—and clean vocals that never stretch from their narrow baritone range, hobbling with broken wings, a track meant to soar like an eagle. Add in the amateurish, Egyptian-tinged “Lost in the Sands,” where the guitars and drums fall entirely out of sync and distract rather than charm, to the very awkwardly performed, ill-flowing piano interlude “Nocturnal Opus 666,” and it’s clear Phantom is unable to stretch far enough to fulfill Tyrants of Wrath‘s intended goal.

With a runtime of just over forty-eight minutes, Tyrants of Wrath is far from the brevity of Handed to Execution, which is disappointing because the unrealized gains of Phantom‘s experimentation lead to this bloat. That’s not to say every experiment fails, as the spooky intro, spunky-punk bass, and tremolo strumming of “Dance of the Spiders” works in a mostly non-Phantom way, and closer “Dark Wings of Death,” an excellent amalgamation of speed-thrashy chugs and trad-heavy, war horse galloping riffs make for a trver representation of what an evolved Phantom is capable of. I’m happy my active listening of “Dark Wings of Death” allowed me to reach that conclusion since, sadly, the fatigue I felt during my initial, traditionally linear listening sessions left me apathetic to this last song’s successful charms.

Phantom is a fun and very young band, which works in their favor as they continue to evolve and find their footing. Handed to Execution was a nostalgically compelling and raucously promising debut. While I think Tyrants of Wrath, despite its expansive intentions, sees Phantom take a step back, there’s a lot to look forward to as well. I commend these youngsters for having the courage to look beyond the relative success of their previous effort to do something exactly as they want. There are glimpses on Tyrants of Wrath of what a more mature third Phantom outing could sound like, and you can bet I’ll be there to listen to it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #HighRollerRecords #Kreator #Metallica #MexicanMetal #Phantom #Razor #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal #TyrantsOfWrath

Morbific – Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh Review

By Al Kikuras

Finnish wizards of gore Morbific have been at this grimy game for half a decade, and to say the wear their ruptured hearts on their sleeves would be much more of an understatement than anything they have churned out of the chum factory on their previous two full-lengths or this, their third. The gloriously titled Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh drips with youthful enthusiasm, but as Ferox so eloquently described their absolute barbarism in his review of their sophomore outing, Squirm Beyond the Mortal Realm, Morbific aren’t here to break any new musical barriers; they’re just cracking skulls. These three Finnish grave robbers aren’t surgeons, they’re pugilists with all the finesse of a Sledge-o-Magic to a watermelon. If you don’t want to get messy, stay away from these three amigos, but if you’re into wearing a plastic schmatta in the front row at Sea World, gear up. Morbific are the Gallagher 2 to the Gallaghers of their progenitors. Take equal parts Autopsy, Carcass, and Mortician, whack them up in a blender, and you have the chunky, vile smoothie that is Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh. Even the logo is a noble homage to Impetigo sans prominently placed penis.

The aforementioned great gore grandads have been oft imitated generation after generation. First came General Surgery, then 45 different Razorback Records bands, but like copying an album to a cassette, and then copying that cassette to another cassette, the quality tends to decrease a bit with each duplicate. Some of the latest crop are more successful in their savagery, like Miasmatic Necrosis, Pathologist, Pharmacist, and the very close-to-my-heart/sphincter monikered Hemorrhoid. While I will visit these morgues on occasion for a quick whiff of formaldehyde, as an old head, I find myself going back to the actual classics where all the stuff started, and I fear that Morbific, as much as they mean well, pale compared to the much meatier outings of their forefathers.

Opening dirty ditty “Smut Club (For the Chosen Scum)” sets the seedy bar high, lurching like an unhoused leviathan on meth on the wrong side of the sidewalk in an affluent neighborhood. Vocalist/bassist Jusa Janhonen announces his arrival with a mighty ‘Pillard’ (a new phrase for ‘a cavernous roar that ends with a foul gurgle’ that is expected to be added to the Oxford English Dictionary in the fall of 2025). His equally foul bass breakdown at the minute mark has a satisfying squelch, especially when doubled by Olli Väkeväinen’s buzzsaw guitar tone, and Ollli’s brother, Onni’s refreshingly untriggered drum sound perfectly captures all the Discharge d-beat spirit of old. The literal gurgle under the ensuing keyboard interlude mid song is a shining moment in the proceedings that lends an air of almost innovation to what is otherwise a primarily paint-by-numbers OSDM affair. For example, the straightforward song two, “Panspermic Blight,” would benefit from a little more coloring outside of the chalk outlines.

It’s when Morbific bring new smells to the noxious bouquet that the listens are more rewarding. While their hearts are in the right place, in the case of this gory mess removed from the chest and planted on the grimy piss-soaked floor of a rest stop bathroom, rather than sticking, much of this rotted meat falls away from the bone. While the fuzz bass sound in the slow section of “Womb of Deathless Deterioration” gives me a rigor mortis hard on and the musical interlude “Stifling Stagnant Reek” is a very gloomy and interesting respite, moments like that make the more workmanlike passages pale by comparison. In the six minutes of the title track where they balance nuance with barbarity to great effect elevate things to a level that I hope Morbific can further harness to a greater focus on outing four.

Like a B-level horror film, Bloom at its core delivers all the blood and guts, but not always the heart and soul. As a relatively new jockey in this race to the grave, Morbific still have plenty of time to hone their craft to that of a razor sharp serial killer on a decade long spree as opposed to a Floridian meth head that got pissed off he/she/they got kicked out of a Circle K and decided to do the Dance of the Machetes in D Minor. It’s my firm belief that great things are yet to come from this truculent triumvirate, but this time around, the flesh needs a little more time to putrefy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ujo Records
Websites: morbific.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbific
Releases Worldwide: April 21st, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Autopsy #BloomOfTheAbnormalFlesh #Carcass #DeathMetal #Discharge #FinnishMetal #Hemorrhoid #Impetigo #MeSacoUnUjoRecords #MiasmaticNecrosis #Morbific #Mortician #Pathologist #Pharmacist #Review #Reviews

Morbific – Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh Review

By Al Kikuras

Finnish wizards of gore Morbific have been at this grimy game for half a decade, and to say the wear their ruptured hearts on their sleeves would be much more of an understatement than anything they have churned out of the chum factory on their previous two full-lengths or this, their third. The gloriously titled Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh drips with youthful enthusiasm, but as Ferox so eloquently described their absolute barbarism in his review of their sophomore outing, Squirm Beyond the Mortal Realm, Morbific aren’t here to break any new musical barriers; they’re just cracking skulls. These three Finnish grave robbers aren’t surgeons, they’re pugilists with all the finesse of a Sledge-o-Magic to a watermelon. If you don’t want to get messy, stay away from these three amigos, but if you’re into wearing a plastic schmatta in the front row at Sea World, gear up. Morbific are the Gallagher 2 to the Gallaghers of their progenitors. Take equal parts Autopsy, Carcass, and Mortician, whack them up in a blender, and you have the chunky, vile smoothie that is Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh. Even the logo is a noble homage to Impetigo sans prominently placed penis.

The aforementioned great gore grandads have been oft imitated generation after generation. First came General Surgery, then 45 different Razorback Records bands, but like copying an album to a cassette, and then copying that cassette to another cassette, the quality tends to decrease a bit with each duplicate. Some of the latest crop are more successful in their savagery, like Miasmatic Necrosis, Pathologist, Pharmacist, and the very close-to-my-heart/sphincter monikered Hemorrhoid. While I will visit these morgues on occasion for a quick whiff of formaldehyde, as an old head, I find myself going back to the actual classics where all the stuff started, and I fear that Morbific, as much as they mean well, pale compared to the much meatier outings of their forefathers.

Opening dirty ditty “Smut Club (For the Chosen Scum)” sets the seedy bar high, lurching like an unhoused leviathan on meth on the wrong side of the sidewalk in an affluent neighborhood. Vocalist/bassist Jusa Janhonen announces his arrival with a mighty ‘Pillard’ (a new phrase for ‘a cavernous roar that ends with a foul gurgle’ that is expected to be added to the Oxford English Dictionary in the fall of 2025). His equally foul bass breakdown at the minute mark has a satisfying squelch, especially when doubled by Olli Väkeväinen’s buzzsaw guitar tone, and Ollli’s brother, Onni’s refreshingly untriggered drum sound perfectly captures all the Discharge d-beat spirit of old. The literal gurgle under the ensuing keyboard interlude mid song is a shining moment in the proceedings that lends an air of almost innovation to what is otherwise a primarily paint-by-numbers OSDM affair. For example, the straightforward song two, “Panspermic Blight,” would benefit from a little more coloring outside of the chalk outlines.

It’s when Morbific bring new smells to the noxious bouquet that the listens are more rewarding. While their hearts are in the right place, in the case of this gory mess removed from the chest and planted on the grimy piss-soaked floor of a rest stop bathroom, rather than sticking, much of this rotted meat falls away from the bone. While the fuzz bass sound in the slow section of “Womb of Deathless Deterioration” gives me a rigor mortis hard on and the musical interlude “Stifling Stagnant Reek” is a very gloomy and interesting respite, moments like that make the more workmanlike passages pale by comparison. In the six minutes of the title track where they balance nuance with barbarity to great effect elevate things to a level that I hope Morbific can further harness to a greater focus on outing four.

Like a B-level horror film, Bloom at its core delivers all the blood and guts, but not always the heart and soul. As a relatively new jockey in this race to the grave, Morbific still have plenty of time to hone their craft to that of a razor sharp serial killer on a decade long spree as opposed to a Floridian meth head that got pissed off he/she/they got kicked out of a Circle K and decided to do the Dance of the Machetes in D Minor. It’s my firm belief that great things are yet to come from this truculent triumvirate, but this time around, the flesh needs a little more time to putrefy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ujo Records
Websites: morbific.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbific
Releases Worldwide: April 21st, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Autopsy #BloomOfTheAbnormalFlesh #Carcass #DeathMetal #Discharge #FinnishMetal #Hemorrhoid #Impetigo #MeSacoUnUjoRecords #MiasmaticNecrosis #Morbific #Mortician #Pathologist #Pharmacist #Review #Reviews

Morbific – Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh Review

By Al Kikuras

Finnish wizards of gore Morbific have been at this grimy game for half a decade, and to say the wear their ruptured hearts on their sleeves would be much more of an understatement than anything they have churned out of the chum factory on their previous two full-lengths or this, their third. The gloriously titled Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh drips with youthful enthusiasm, but as Ferox so eloquently described their absolute barbarism in his review of their sophomore outing, Squirm Beyond the Mortal Realm, Morbific aren’t here to break any new musical barriers; they’re just cracking skulls. These three Finnish grave robbers aren’t surgeons, they’re pugilists with all the finesse of a Sledge-o-Magic to a watermelon. If you don’t want to get messy, stay away from these three amigos, but if you’re into wearing a plastic schmatta in the front row at Sea World, gear up. Morbific are the Gallagher 2 to the Gallaghers of their progenitors. Take equal parts Autopsy, Carcass, and Mortician, whack them up in a blender, and you have the chunky, vile smoothie that is Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh. Even the logo is a noble homage to Impetigo sans prominently placed penis.

The aforementioned great gore grandads have been oft imitated generation after generation. First came General Surgery, then 45 different Razorback Records bands, but like copying an album to a cassette, and then copying that cassette to another cassette, the quality tends to decrease a bit with each duplicate. Some of the latest crop are more successful in their savagery, like Miasmatic Necrosis, Pathologist, Pharmacist, and the very close-to-my-heart/sphincter monikered Hemorrhoid. While I will visit these morgues on occasion for a quick whiff of formaldehyde, as an old head, I find myself going back to the actual classics where all the stuff started, and I fear that Morbific, as much as they mean well, pale compared to the much meatier outings of their forefathers.

Opening dirty ditty “Smut Club (For the Chosen Scum)” sets the seedy bar high, lurching like an unhoused leviathan on meth on the wrong side of the sidewalk in an affluent neighborhood. Vocalist/bassist Jusa Janhonen announces his arrival with a mighty ‘Pillard’ (a new phrase for ‘a cavernous roar that ends with a foul gurgle’ that is expected to be added to the Oxford English Dictionary in the fall of 2025). His equally foul bass breakdown at the minute mark has a satisfying squelch, especially when doubled by Olli Väkeväinen’s buzzsaw guitar tone, and Ollli’s brother, Onni’s refreshingly untriggered drum sound perfectly captures all the Discharge d-beat spirit of old. The literal gurgle under the ensuing keyboard interlude mid song is a shining moment in the proceedings that lends an air of almost innovation to what is otherwise a primarily paint-by-numbers OSDM affair. For example, the straightforward song two, “Panspermic Blight,” would benefit from a little more coloring outside of the chalk outlines.

It’s when Morbific bring new smells to the noxious bouquet that the listens are more rewarding. While their hearts are in the right place, in the case of this gory mess removed from the chest and planted on the grimy piss-soaked floor of a rest stop bathroom, rather than sticking, much of this rotted meat falls away from the bone. While the fuzz bass sound in the slow section of “Womb of Deathless Deterioration” gives me a rigor mortis hard on and the musical interlude “Stifling Stagnant Reek” is a very gloomy and interesting respite, moments like that make the more workmanlike passages pale by comparison. In the six minutes of the title track where they balance nuance with barbarity to great effect elevate things to a level that I hope Morbific can further harness to a greater focus on outing four.

Like a B-level horror film, Bloom at its core delivers all the blood and guts, but not always the heart and soul. As a relatively new jockey in this race to the grave, Morbific still have plenty of time to hone their craft to that of a razor sharp serial killer on a decade long spree as opposed to a Floridian meth head that got pissed off he/she/they got kicked out of a Circle K and decided to do the Dance of the Machetes in D Minor. It’s my firm belief that great things are yet to come from this truculent triumvirate, but this time around, the flesh needs a little more time to putrefy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ujo Records
Websites: morbific.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbific
Releases Worldwide: April 21st, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Autopsy #BloomOfTheAbnormalFlesh #Carcass #DeathMetal #Discharge #FinnishMetal #Hemorrhoid #Impetigo #MeSacoUnUjoRecords #MiasmaticNecrosis #Morbific #Mortician #Pathologist #Pharmacist #Review #Reviews

Morbific – Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh Review

By Al Kikuras

Finnish wizards of gore Morbific have been at this grimy game for half a decade, and to say the wear their ruptured hearts on their sleeves would be much more of an understatement than anything they have churned out of the chum factory on their previous two full-lengths or this, their third. The gloriously titled Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh drips with youthful enthusiasm, but as Ferox so eloquently described their absolute barbarism in his review of their sophomore outing, Squirm Beyond the Mortal Realm, Morbific aren’t here to break any new musical barriers; they’re just cracking skulls. These three Finnish grave robbers aren’t surgeons, they’re pugilists with all the finesse of a Sledge-o-Magic to a watermelon. If you don’t want to get messy, stay away from these three amigos, but if you’re into wearing a plastic schmatta in the front row at Sea World, gear up. Morbific are the Gallagher 2 to the Gallaghers of their progenitors. Take equal parts Autopsy, Carcass, and Mortician, whack them up in a blender, and you have the chunky, vile smoothie that is Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh. Even the logo is a noble homage to Impetigo sans prominently placed penis.

The aforementioned great gore grandads have been oft imitated generation after generation. First came General Surgery, then 45 different Razorback Records bands, but like copying an album to a cassette, and then copying that cassette to another cassette, the quality tends to decrease a bit with each duplicate. Some of the latest crop are more successful in their savagery, like Miasmatic Necrosis, Pathologist, Pharmacist, and the very close-to-my-heart/sphincter monikered Hemorrhoid. While I will visit these morgues on occasion for a quick whiff of formaldehyde, as an old head, I find myself going back to the actual classics where all the stuff started, and I fear that Morbific, as much as they mean well, pale compared to the much meatier outings of their forefathers.

Opening dirty ditty “Smut Club (For the Chosen Scum)” sets the seedy bar high, lurching like an unhoused leviathan on meth on the wrong side of the sidewalk in an affluent neighborhood. Vocalist/bassist Jusa Janhonen announces his arrival with a mighty ‘Pillard’ (a new phrase for ‘a cavernous roar that ends with a foul gurgle’ that is expected to be added to the Oxford English Dictionary in the fall of 2025). His equally foul bass breakdown at the minute mark has a satisfying squelch, especially when doubled by Olli Väkeväinen’s buzzsaw guitar tone, and Ollli’s brother, Onni’s refreshingly untriggered drum sound perfectly captures all the Discharge d-beat spirit of old. The literal gurgle under the ensuing keyboard interlude mid song is a shining moment in the proceedings that lends an air of almost innovation to what is otherwise a primarily paint-by-numbers OSDM affair. For example, the straightforward song two, “Panspermic Blight,” would benefit from a little more coloring outside of the chalk outlines.

It’s when Morbific bring new smells to the noxious bouquet that the listens are more rewarding. While their hearts are in the right place, in the case of this gory mess removed from the chest and planted on the grimy piss-soaked floor of a rest stop bathroom, rather than sticking, much of this rotted meat falls away from the bone. While the fuzz bass sound in the slow section of “Womb of Deathless Deterioration” gives me a rigor mortis hard on and the musical interlude “Stifling Stagnant Reek” is a very gloomy and interesting respite, moments like that make the more workmanlike passages pale by comparison. In the six minutes of the title track where they balance nuance with barbarity to great effect elevate things to a level that I hope Morbific can further harness to a greater focus on outing four.

Like a B-level horror film, Bloom at its core delivers all the blood and guts, but not always the heart and soul. As a relatively new jockey in this race to the grave, Morbific still have plenty of time to hone their craft to that of a razor sharp serial killer on a decade long spree as opposed to a Floridian meth head that got pissed off he/she/they got kicked out of a Circle K and decided to do the Dance of the Machetes in D Minor. It’s my firm belief that great things are yet to come from this truculent triumvirate, but this time around, the flesh needs a little more time to putrefy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ujo Records
Websites: morbific.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbific
Releases Worldwide: April 21st, 2025

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