Cannibal Corpse
"Eaten Back To Life"

I admit it; I almost feel sorry to write a serious review about Cannibal Corpse, one of the most ridiculous bands in the entire Brutal Death metal scene, second only to champions of idiocy like Deicide and Morbid Angel.

However, this group, at least in their first five albums, made history: they (regrettably) practically invented this subgenre of metal. And you have no idea how much it pains me to make such a statement, because I name as Demiurge of my favorite musical genre a bunch of lunatics. But "fate prescribed without tears": so let's proceed.

The work I am about to review is none other than their debut, dated 1990, released by the emerging Metal Blade label and overseen by the famous producer Scott Burns at the equally famous Morrisound Studios. The release year of this CD is very important in order to fully grasp its innovation: in fact, the explosion of Death and Brutal Death happened precisely between 1990 and 1993, and therefore "Eaten Back To Life" is among the very first. Being able to draw their material essentially only from the works of a few extreme groups, Cannibal Corpse gave life to a new genre, Brutal Death (whose consecration occurred a year later thanks to the works of Suffocation and Gorguts). In reality, categorizing the album in question in this way is a bit pretentious, but on the other hand, it presents so many elements of rupture with raw Death (the rawest form of Death, that of the beginnings) that it's impossible to do otherwise.

The first distinctive feature of the album (initially circulated only on vinyl) was, at the time, the artwork, which caught the audience completely unprepared: although today it is more than normal, indeed, almost gentle within the genre, it sparked many controversies that cost the group the first of a long series of censorships of which they are still proud. For the cover, they turned to a Horror-Trash comic book artist (not Thrash!!!), as they will throughout their career (still very active, unfortunately) in a climax of exaggeration and bad taste. The songs are eleven for a total of about forty minutes and feature the extraordinary participation of Glenn Benton, the singer of Deicide, friends and fellow citizens of Cannibal Corpse (from Tampa, Florida, they settled in Buffalo, Texas), with whom the collaboration will continue in the subsequent Masterpiece "Butchered At Birth."

The group showcases right from the debut what will be their technical skills in all their subsequent works: at the level of execution skill, there will never be surges, nor evolutions, nor improvements: by this, I don’t mean they play poorly, on the contrary, their standards are medium high. However, compared to many other groups whose technique is always "In Fieri", our guys show great immobility (the same that, starting from the fifth work "Vile", will also take over their sound). Drummer and guitarists perform a correct and certainly not easy job, but they don’t excel in originality and virtuosity: the riffing is linear and still quite anchored to the classic Death (which in turn has its roots in Thrash) and surely favors power instead of technique. I repeat that, if compared to "Left Hand Path" by Entombed or "Slowly We Rot" by Obituary (two roughly contemporary works of the same genre), this LP will seem continuous technicality to you, but if compared to "Effigy Of The Forgotten" by Suffocation, you will understand what I mean.

Gifted with great skills (although equaled by many underground instrumentalists) is instead the bassist, Alex Webster, whose talent is perhaps excessively recognized and celebrated: in short, he is an excellent bassist, but Steve DiGiorgio (Death, Sadus, Testament) is something else. At the voice was still a raw Chris Barnes who screams like a caveman with a voice far from the cemetery growling he will acquire later, but still suitable to the context. The composition of the individual songs is well-cared for even if repetitive, another recurrent characteristic of this group. Cannibal Corpse, in fact, never publish poor or rushed works and all their compositions are studied and thought out, even if not pearls of care: however, they are of such monotony that, within an album, less than half are saved for originality (except in "Butchered At Birth", my preferred work because more songs are saved). All the others are almost identical to what I call "guide songs", the songs destined to become anthems.

As for "Eaten Back To Life," I would only save the first two, "Shredded Humans" and "Edible Autopsy", but I realize I say this because I listened to the album for the first time exactly fourteen years after its release: probably the listening had much more meaning back then when its unheard (in the etymological sense of the word) power could be appreciated. The band's style, as already said unchanged today, is based on very fast tempos with rare and very heavy slowdowns and acrid guitar riffing, supported by similar voice and bass. What then about the lyrics? The first brick of our guys’ disgusting "literary work": the lyrics deal exclusively and only with Splatter Gore themes, dwelling on macabre and deliberately pseudo-scientific details. Although they are not yet at the levels of the atrocities of subsequent works, they defend themselves well with a massive dose of murders and anatomical traumas, probably drawn from horror flicks (in the booklet they also thank Dario Argento whom they call "Master Of All Gore"). However, these themes are treated without the humor of groups like Carcass and without laughing at themselves, but with an obvious and studied morbidity (one of the characteristics that most annoy me about this band).

In short, "Eaten Back To Life" is a record that would easily reach sufficiency but would not deserve much more. Given its historical relevance, however, I feel obliged to give it the maximum: as much as the songs are little more than listenable, there are mechanisms to consider that they set in motion, the trend they initiated. Anyone who loves Death and Brutal cannot do without this historical record, not a Masterpiece, but a milestone.