Tag Archive: technical death metal


Brain Drill – Quantum Catastrophe

Brain Drill – Quantum Catastrophe

Brain Drill – Quantum Catastrophe

Brain Drill have shot to the summit of the mountain of technical death metal, threatening to actually complete music itself on their debut Apocalyptic Feasting (narrowly missing out by not calling it Apocalyptic Fisting) and now return with Quantum Catastrophe, 8 tracks of laidback, chillout groove that even your gran will be nodding her head to. No… Wait… I clicked the wrong button. Actually what they present here is the sound of your soul being agonizingly made flesh and then forced into a threshing machine by an evil hillbilly. It’s the sound of a mutant, radioactive orang-utan raping spree recorded, amplified 346 times and committed to compact disc. It’s the sound of the absolute, final word in brutality and metallic musical over ambition being sprayed into your face like a 2-second burst from a GAU-8 Avenger.

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A Loathing Requiem – Psalms of Misanthropy

A Loathing Requiem – Psalms of Misanthropy

A Loathing Requiem – Psalms of Misanthropy

Anyway, the world needs more men like Malcolm Pugh. Men who have no concept of social lives or even sleep, instead sitting in a room with guitar in hand, practicing and practicing until after many years and tens of thousands of hours of dedicated work it is time to release their technical death metal album. So, peeping out into the light comes A Loathing Requiem, looking to follow in the hallowed footsteps of Jim Malone and Muhammed Suicmez in the world of one man bandsmanship, a concept that has developed somewhat since Dick Van Dyke’s epochal one man band performance in Mary Poppins. As seen in this rare original draft of Fermented Offal Discharge.

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Nile – Those Whom the Gods Detest

Nile – Those Whom the Gods Detest

Nile – Those Whom the Gods Detest

Nile albums generally transcend any predetermined preconceptions of what a listening experience is, instead crafting huge sonic landscapes that whisk you back 5000 years to the banks of the river from which they take their name, so that you can almost feel the Egyptian sun scorching your back, as some slave driver whips you harder to construct the Sphinx’s giant stone phallus (this may or may not exist outside of my mind). Luckily for us, Nile do not have magical time travelling powers or, to my knowledge, whips, and instead settle for scorching and lashing your face with their enormous metaphorical phallus of death metal on this, their sixth, album.

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