Waking The Cadaver is music for tough guys and I’m not sure I can cope with it. Being a civilised and educated man, the prospect of doing some mosh pit tai chi with their super-cool and tough fans while they unleash their patented brand of slammage fills me with fear. These maniacs are so nuggets they are ‘Beyond Cops’ and ‘Beyond God’ for god’s sake!
Oh no, wait. They’re actually a bunch of posturing virgin losers trying to be tough, producing bottom rung music for little boys who aspire to be tough. Their debut album, Perverse Recollections Of A Necromangler, was a disc so densely packed with shit that Steven Hawking had to rewrite 4 chapters of his new book in light of this new discovery regarding the compression of mass. Beyond cops and god they may be, but they’re not beyond the reach of Leave The Hall’s judgment. They will stand trial and they will be evaluated, with punishment to be meted out in the form of Grimmett.
The first thing that strikes you when you listen to this is that Waking The Cadaver are better than they used to be. Given, that is like saying the day you got a gang rape bum poking by AIDS ridden elephant smackheads 11 times was better than the day they completed the dirty dozen on you, but this isn’t as bad as I had expected. This only sounds like the worst hardcore band ever trying to play death metal, which is an improvement from the special school stylings of their debut. Opening with Beyond Cops (whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean… stick to the cartoon violence, lads), the song goes raaaarr dun dun dun dun, raaaaar dun dun dun for a bit, then it does the same, only slower. Then a wee notey riff comes out of nowhere that isn’t completely moronic and like a ray of sunshine peeking out from behind the storm, it brightens up your life. Then there’s a bit of basic, uninspired tremolo picking, followed by another stock breakdown. The clouds are back. Yawn.
Reign Supreme is about the time the band got the top score on Guitar Hero out of all the bands they toured with. Actually it isn’t, but it would explain why they can’t play real instruments for shit and why all of their riffs can be performed with one finger on only 5 frets. Sadistic Tortures and Made In Hell are hugely unremarkable slices of deathcore that couldn’t have more appropriate titles if they were called “Sonic Diarrhoea Fresh From A Puckered Asshole pt 1 & 2”. The lyrics are atrocious too. I know no one’s going to hear them, but you’d like to think that they’d put in a little effort… Could they not beat “Face down in the john, is where you belong” as an opening line for Sadistic Tortures? Lord Worm they are not.
Boss Status tells of the time one of the band members got a little gold star on his McDonalds name tag, having managed to go an entire day without dribbling in the Big Macs. Terminate With Extreme Prejudice has another ok riff, something that might be passable on a Hatebreed record, before descending back into a mind-numbing dirge of fifth-rate vomit. It goes on.
This is not heavy music; this is merely what idiots think heavy music sounds like. Downtuning really low does not make it heavy. Guttural vocals are not heavy. Singing about violence and gore is not heavy. Frank Zappa could write heavier music than this with a kazoo between his ass cheeks, and in fact he probably did. If you buy this album you are making a statement about yourself; saying that when you dine out at the restaurant of sound and are confronted with the rich and varied buffet of death metal and grindcore music, you opt to eat not from the Michelin star chefs, the culinary geniuses and the avant-garde Heston Blumenthal selection. No, you opt to eat a piece of soggy, piss-saturated white bread baked by a child. A stupid, incontinent child. Just stop it for fucks sake, you’re only encouraging them.