Aborym
With No Human Intervention

Ok. This one is pretty long. Relax. Make sure you have time, cold beers in the fridge, and lots and lots of patience for the review of an album that is as challenging, grumpy, and complex as it is intriguing, fascinating, and unique.

In 2003, after the success achieved thanks to Kali Yuga Bizarre, a legendary debut, and the second full-length, Fire Walk With Us, albums that quickly became symbols of the darkest and most avant-garde trends in extreme metal, under the aegis of the Italian Code666, Aborym released the violent and feral With No Human Intervention.

This album, rife with a futuristic and expansive stylistic maturity, further solidified the position of Fabban's band among the sacred monsters of international Extreme Metal.

During this period, difficulties were certainly not lacking. In November 2002, in fact, the singer Attila Csihar was arrested for drug possession. Following this event, criticisms were unleashed on the band and its musical path. However, Fabban and Aborym weren't even slightly affected by all this "media mud" and continued to spit blood and grind kilometers on the new album, which would constitute a true metamorphosis for the Italian Kampfgruppe.
It is here that the new era of Aborym begins and a 360-degree renewal. A new logo, a new visual approach made of fluorescent face-painting and iconography drawn from the rave world, but above all a destructive and corrosive attitude, electrically and magnetically linked to urban chaos and all the evil man has done to the planet that generated him.

With No Human Intervention is a Pandora's box full of poisons and anger towards all the worst that human beings are: envy, corruption, hypocrisy, lust for power, selfishness, money, perversion, moralism... and infinite, tremendous, heavy loads of hatred and disdain towards all that.

How to give all this a perfect musical frame, worthy of the strong subjects dealt with? It's easy: in the fourteen songs that make up WNHI, violence reigns supreme. A cybernetic, alienating, machine-born, unstoppable violence that pierces our limbs with firepower. And Aborym doesn't do this alone. Numerous guests participate in the composition of this album, in the name of the powerful friendship that binds the band's Italian members to those of other important international musical entities.

Bard Faust, (who will become the actual drummer of the band from the next -Generator-), gives the title to the album: With No Human Intervention, symbolizing the music within which belongs to otherworldly, inhuman, futuristic realms.
The cover of the CD displays, as mentioned earlier, Aborym's brand-new logo, magniloquent, standing against a dark industrial landscape reminiscent of the Fukushima or Chernobyl complexes pre-disaster. From them emerges a mass of gray and dense clouds, almost like a throne to an anthropomorphic figure, an angel, which observes everything beneath it and fuels the aura of mystery and desolation, darkness, and malignancy that the cover alone already conveys.

Nothing is left to chance, not even in the booklet, once again crafted by Fabban and Fabio Timpanaro with the important contribution of Lorenzo Mariani. Nestled among the pages featuring the lyrics are the paintings Monolito Nero by Danilo Capua, Dance Uber Alles by Kurse, along with numerous other abrasive, evanescent, erotic, and sick frames that promote Aborym's visual imagery.

The mechanical voice of a little girl in “Antichristian Codec” opens the gates of hell!
It travels super-sonic, with a drum machine loaded to the brim, the title track of the album; uncompromising violence, new screaming vocals by Attila Csihar, as always partially recited, but above all a dense and thick chaos made up of guitars, enticing and frozen between samples, sound effects, and puffs of synthesizers. Six minutes of uncontrollable ferocity, irresistible, continuing in the next two tracks “U.V Impaler”, which contains parts in Hungarian (Csihar's native language), with a sweeping ending, and “Humechanics Virus”, a song alien in every sense of the word. Genius riffs interspersed with electronic pulses, in the ever-increasing crescendo of the song, leaving listeners disarmed even on the first listen. A brief break with “Does Not Compute”, composed by Matt Jarman of OCD/Void, a song oscillating between Schizo<|endoftext|>