Another album of continuous filler from the champions of gay album covers. This time around we have a guy with horns and leopard leotards tied up in a dingy bathroom while a load of cum is shot into his mouth from deep space. Genius! Musically these guys have undergone monumental changes. Not just a Haunted rip-off anymore, they now rip-off newer In Flames as well. Talk about dynamics. The vocals are fucking terrible! Jesus Christ, do they ever fucking suck! Shut this guy up, please. Shoot a load of cum in his mouth from deep space if you have to, but shut him the fuck up.

I always take serious note when I see the Goodfellow Records label, home of the almighty Taken, whose Between Two Unseens EP was the most passionate recording of 2004 I might add. So my hopes were high, unfortunately Cursed play that noisy, unmemorable Math/Core/Grind/Sludge slop that I simply can not enjoy. They remind me a lot of Every Time I Die, quite possibly the worst band ever, and much of what I hear sounds similar to the new Converge, another big disappointment for yours truly. But if I were in Cursed I wouldn’t worry. All the major mags seem to eat this shit up. Look at everyone’s Top 10 for last year: Dillinger, Isis, Old Man Gloom, Converge, Neurosis, etc. Everyone loves loud, shitty noise. Everyone but me.

These guys have really changed their sound in 2005. Not to fear, there are still quick spasms of high-speed, dissonant frenzy and Crusty filth (“Antidepressants Are Depressing,” “There Ain’t No Can’t in American,” and “Zero MPH Fallover”), and thankfully the vocals remain tortured. But for the most part, the album is dominated by thick, Sludgy downer riffs and Stoner abandon. There is more use of melody as the record successfully embodies the essence of giving up and giving in. By adding this new dimension to their sound, they have revived it without it ever having suffocated for an instant.

This album blew me away… for the first 30 seconds, anyway. Yes, Flo Mounier is still the blastbeat god, the band is tighter than underage Oriental vagina, and the guitar work is so technically impressive that I probably couldn’t play one of the riffs after ten years of schooling, but it’s fucking boring. Yes, I said it, it’s fucking boring. You are, in fact, about to read the only condescending review of this album you will most likely ever see in print. This is without question the weakest moment of Cryptopsy’s career, and I’ve been there since Blasphemy Made Flesh, so you can tongue-polish my scrotum, newcomer. This album is nothing more than one fast, complicated, brutal blur, and Lord Worm sounds flat out tired. His voice is weak and I can see now why he originally hung up the mic. I couldn’t tell you how a nanosecond of this album goes, and I’ve been spinning it for months now. Don’t get me wrong, I love Cryptopsy and always will. Hopefully this is just a speedbump, not a roadblock. It is for sure an unmemorable mess aimed more at the Tech Metal geeks than the diehard Death Metal legions.

Imagine a musical style encompassing Carcass, Necrony, Deceased and Napalm Death, with 100% pitch-shifted vocals! Very energetic and flavorful music that goes in all kinds of different directions, whether it be Thrash, Gore-Grind, Grindcore, or just pure Death. There are even traces of the legendary Sunlight sound within. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the pitch-shifted vokills do start to wear by album’s end, but that said this is still one of the best one-man attempts in recent memory. Sure to appease many different types of Metalheads.

I was digging the fuck out of this record until I made the mistake of reading the lyrics. The music and vocals are awesome. Chugging, blasting, dirty Death Metal in the Broken Hope and Fleshgrind vein. The first song compels the head to bang and the chorus to be growled along to, that is until you realize he’s saying, “Scooby Dooby Doom.” Deep isn’t it? The second track is an inspirational story about a toothbrush and a bar of soap fighting. Other hot topics include raspberry jam, cumming glue, backgammon, pigeons, motocross, Winnie the Pooh, and singing in the shower. I thought the first couple Spaceballs samples were funny, but after the next ten or so, I figured I could’ve just rented the movie. I guess by the band name, song titles, album artwork, and Brujeria cover I should’ve known I was in for a joke band, but I suppose when I heard how cool it was I forgot. I’m not against humor in extreme music, but it should be done with moderation, and oh yeah, it ought to be funny. Bands like these are why no one takes Death Metal seriously, and it hurts me personally that they are Italian. If they want to make their next album worthwhile, while still retaining the novelty aspect, make it a Karaoke release.

I went to the gym today. Got a really good workout, had the new Darkest Hour pumping through the headphones. Finished up and headed to the locker room to change clothes and head home. Seated on the bench, changing my shoes, I encountered an 87-year old man, completely nude, fresh out of the shower. Nice fella, I think his name was Walt. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was totally naked, Walt propped his leg up on the bench where I was sitting and proceeded to make friendly conversation, mostly small talk about the weather and the Cubs, with his 87-year old ballsack dangling mere inches from my direct point of view. As awkward as the sight of Walt’s time-tattered scrotum was, I tried to be friendly. I told him that the weather did indeed suck and that I was more of a Braves guy, and then made a Carl Lewis-like dash to the front door, trying to keep my breakfast down in the process. I guess what I’m getting at is that Communic’s brand of dated Ass Metal-meets-Prog is the social equivalent to having 87-year old testicles right in your face.

I heard this is supposed to sound like HIM and the 69 Eyes. Well, I’ve never heard 69 Eyes (not gay), and the only time I’ve heard HIM was a cameo on a new Bloodhound Gang song that I thought sounded cool. This certainly does not sound cool. I actually dig where bands of this ilk come from lyrically, and the music here is a decent, albeit subdued Symphonic Metal with chunks of straightforward Rock. It’s these fucking cheeseball vocals, which sounds like a cross between Michael Bolton and the girls from Nelson, that fail to impress. I just don’t think I’ll be able to get into this seeing as how I was not born with the “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” gene found in most Caucasian males.

First off, let me say I am a huge fan of this man. He is a literary genius, esteemed author and professor, and a beacon of truth in a sea of political bullshit. I believe this guy, as frightening as his message generally is. Having said that, I’d much rather read one of his many great books than sit through 220 minutes of lecturing. If you’ve ever listened to the man speak, you know his soft-spoken but stern voice can become tediously monotonous, and he can literally talk forever. Listening to him drone on about the gloomy state of current affairs for close to 4 hours gives this DVD a painfully drab C-Span feel. It put me to sleep on more than one occasion. My apologies, but buy a book instead. (Might I recommend Hegemony or Survival? A real eye-opener.)