Autopsy
Fiend For Blood

The Autopsy are firmly embedded in the collective imagination of deathsters: there isn't a musician who hasn't worn one of their t-shirts with the bleeding logo, taken from the cover of the Destruction EP "Mad Butcher". Old school death, Floridian death, and grindcore have become benchmarks in which Autopsy roams like a possessed piranha follows the legs of some naiad.

Their appearance in the emerging death metal scene of the late '80s is the result of the musings of Chris Reifert, former drummer of Death on "Scream Bloody Gore", the merchandise studied after his departure from the band. A very fast drummer, but technically limp, he clings to the sound of "Scream Bloody Gore" adopting its hardness but accentuating the dark side, transforming it into his primer, his amulet, a dear and old portrait of himself. Immediately a demo in December 1987 and a second "Critical Madness" in July 1988: the eardrum-rattling machine is armed & ready under the watchful eye of Peaceville Records. Debut with "Severed Survival" where Autopsy become the coal engine of the death-gore train, the minimal side, less contaminated by soulless technique, according to vox populi. Although at the next station Cannibal Corpse and Carcass depart at high speed. "Mental Funeral" is the second LP that travels on the sound coordinates of the debut, preceded by the EP "Retribution For The Dead".

The EP "Fiend For Blood", released in early 1992, precedes "Acts Of Unspeakable" (it will be added in the reissue) and is without a doubt the most representative work of Autopsy, devoid of fillers and marked by the bass lines of the talented Steve DiGiorgio, in the role of session man after "Severed Survival". A shining flower, blossomed in the midst of a field just fertilized by the usual dull and opaque cask, could undoubtedly represent our good Steve, where the loyal Danny Coralles and Eric Cutler rise as faithful courtiers authors of the deep riffs and slowdowns that follow each other creating funereal moods, with screeching solos that jump out like salmon from the torrent creating a combination only seemingly irreconcilable.

And the self-satisfaction of our heroes increases album after album, until the complete ahem... "maturation" in "Shitfun", exactly like the green liquid of "Prince of Darkness" completes the filling of the body of the unfortunate possesed. Reifert even invents a guttural and perverse singing: at times it seems as if he is vomiting. Not an enraged growl, but a liquid falling into the sink with the consequent burp of the drainpipe, suitable to accompany the splatter lyrics with evocative slogans. Death and doom metal are fused together without break in "Squeal Like A Pig" or well distinguished in the slaughterhouse of "Keeper Of Decay", the killer track of the platter, which could be the mini-epic of a man who finds the gates of the company he worked at closed: Steve's bass throbs like the insane heart of the poor man while the axes paint a leaden sky that stands out over the victim's head and Reifert's ignoble voice (like the situation described) acts as a sad narration. Blasts at Napalm Death format "Retreat To Nowhere" are served at the opening with "Fiend For Blood", but also in "Ravenous Freak" with a ramshackle blast beat, while at the end come morgue declamations with "A Different Kind Of Mindfuck" before the end of the dances celebrated by the sonic maelstrom of "Dead Hole".

The charm of Autopsy lies in Chris's carefree singing which appears as a natural effort (just like the vomit retches) and not something forced, like a Frank Mullen of the moment, therefore we feel him close to us just as we perceive the bloody, disturbing lyrics (see the inner cover of "Acts Of Unspeakable") as a product of our neighborhood: the deliberately raw and retro sound evokes decaying provincial interiors, small rooms of perversion and dark, moldy walls like the "good things of bad taste" of Gozzano. Autopsy play with the doom of the early Trouble, merging it with the speed of the '80s butcher shop thrash. The breaks and decelerations are clear, so the poor sound, and we can say unique, highlights the dark corners more than the fast parts, and this is both the limit and the merit of the band at the same time. A "Liege Of Inveracity" by Suffocation has deadly verve, while a "Charred Remains" is certainly fast but the sound seems like that of a tarpaulin truck inflated by the wind and Reifert's voice a pirate recording in a tavern, with the usual customer furious with the cards and the host serving bad alicante.

"Fiend For Blood" is a blistering summary of their entire career, to be listened to from time to time as a testimony of genuine senile but vigorous death metal, just like the old Mr. Machen storyteller of "Fog", which continues even today in the utterly negligible Abscess first and in the Ravenous now.