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Rating:
There exist musicians/artists endowed with such a radical and nonconformist vision of things (or Art) that they are considered criminals or offenders of human decency... So stubborn and faithful to their visceral art that they are determined to go against what the common mass believes or thinks at any cost... Often, these are precisely the best, those endowed with capabilities and faculties simply too far from the norm for the masses to grasp and understand.
The Cannibal Corpse are among these extraordinary individuals. Sacred monsters of the stars and stripes of death metal, musicians with simply superhuman technical abilities (with the exception of Paul Mazurkiewicz who, honestly, has never impressed me) and visceral and violent artists fully devoted to a raw, nihilistic, perverse, and disturbing imagination which they have made a banner and a point of pride, rejected and abhorred by the majority of the public musical opinion. However, our lads have always responded with a middle finger and with albums released at intervals and with a regularity of almost maniacal devotion, completely uninterested in gaining any sort of consensus beyond that slice of die-hard fans of the most violent, heavy, and indigestible music the world knows.
There are those who say that death metal is nothing more than noise played randomly and that, for such reasons, anyone can play it. When I hear such things, I often feel the urgent need to have a 600-watt stereo set at hand to unleash all the seismic power of albums like this one, 'Kill', released in 2006 and responsible for the renewed authority that these five cannibals have managed to reclaim in recent times. Not that they've ever needed it, but we know all too well how incestuous and disgusting musical scenes with whorish integrity have made too many ravages of the old glories, as even the most invincible gods of metal cannot remain unaffected.
'Kill' is yet another anvil of incandescent metal which the five remold and reforge with each new release, seeking to refine the roughness that the old times didn't allow them to improve and looking to instill ever more technically disturbing structures and metrics purely for the pleasure of experimenting and musical exploration. Extreme metal is by nature resistant to widespread dissemination, but there are works that deserve to be known by everyone, for the joy of confronting the self-righteous with a simple 'no' or a more caustic 'go to hell'. 'Kill' is among these works, and Cannibal Corpse are the artisans and creators of a sound monster with simply extraordinary potential.
There are few ways to open an extreme album that with a well-placed scream, and George 'Corpsegrinder' Fisher knows this all too well to attempt a different route. His screaming is the key to an abyss of endless inhumanity and wickedness, the Cannibal Corpse seem determined to gather all the rot and wickedness of the world into a single, small compact disc and spew them out all at once, in a visceral and depraved catharsis. There are no lapses, no technical flaws, the five are compact in a terrifying manner and their singer is a bloodthirsty beast. Few things express the blindest and grimmest rage, the uncontrolled fury, and the aberrant bellowing of the darkest parts of the human soul better than the music of Cannibal Corpse. Few musicians can equal them in skill, power, and precision.
Alex Webster, mastermind of the cannibal corpse since its birth and creator of much of the conceptual sphere behind it, is a virtuoso of the four strings that truly makes you angry (yes, angry), because he deserves crowds of mediocre musicians without art at his feet. Pat O'Brien is something bordering on non-human, perhaps the ultimate instrument that completed the consolidation of Cannibal Corpse as an intimidating technical reality, his rhythmic parts are whipping blows of hallucinatory precision, with a controlled rage and a inhuman creative power that he seems to dose in already lethal drops, and his solos on the borderline between paroxysmal noise and melodies from a criminal asylum are what Kerry King wouldn’t dare even in his most unusual fantasies. Rob Barrett is the perfect counterpart and the support that such destabilizing creative power needs, Paul Mazurkiewicz a competent drummer who deserves credit for holding on in the band until now and George Fisher is the final brick, a black Mephistopheles with a rapist’s sneer leading the thirteen songs into the deepest abysses of Hell of the human spirit.
Albums like 'Kill' (and 'Reign In Blood' by Slayer is its definitive master) seem created to test the limits of human endurance and, if one reaches the end ('Infinite Misery', the final instrumental, is evocative of such ruin and perversion to make one vomit), one reaches it wondering how those five managed to play such an album. I don’t know. I just want to thank them for existing and for championing the cause of musical intransigence and extremism with a faith and devotion very rare to find in today’s bands.
Thank you, guys, and sorry, but I need a break because you just can't listen to albums like these more than twice a day.
Whoever does would be the real lunatic...
Tracklist and Lyrics
04 Necrosadistic Warning (03:28)
Hordes of the rotting dead surround the villagers
Unwary victims mangled and battered
Once buried warriors have risen to kill again
Signs of their wickedness left for a warning
Mutilate
Disembowel
Amputate
Kill and rape
Gratification achieved by dismemberment
Unnatural legions ravage the carcasses
Open wounds targets for evil defilers
Seeds of inquity cover the body parts
Necrosadistic warning
You will not rest in peace
Violate
Death so foul
Ejaculate
Pieces raped
Bound with intestines the body is held upright
Travelers encounter the gruesome monition
Terrorized realization of coming death
They will be next for the army of killers
Necrosadistic warning
You will not rest in peace
Necrosadistic warning
Remains are on display
Necrosadistic warning
You will not rest in peace
Necrosadistic warning
Molested corpses hang
Undead
Molest
Defile
Kill them
Butcher
Then fuck
Necrosadistic warning
You will not rest in peace
Necrosadistic warning
Discharge on the corpse
Necrosadistic warning
You will not rest in peace
Necrosadistic warning
Desecration of the dead
09 The Discipline of Revenge (03:39)
Patience is my ally
Design should not be rushed
Asperations long forgotten
Never left my mind
My rage must be controlled
My plans require time
My rage must be controlled until the time is right
Mastery of self control
Seething deep inside
Enemies oblivious
My ruse has made them blind
My rage must be controlled
My plans require time
My rage must be controlled until the time is right
(Solo: Pat O'Brien)
My hate has been concealed
My time has come at last
My hate has been concealed but now the scum will die
Batter the face
Crushing the pompous fool
Retaliation
This was worth the wait
Endurance
Deception
Abhorance
Vengence
Wounds of the enemy
Oozing hypocrisy
Duplicatious slime
They are less than nothing
Twisted
Slaves to their vanity
They are beneath my feet
Only now can they learn
As my boot kicks their heads
Pitiless Tormenting
Resolve never wavering
contemptible pieces of human trash litter my life
(Solo: Pat O'Brien)
Victory was certain
They never saw it coming
Years of planning have paid off
Voice inside silenced
11 Maniacal (02:12)
Rage, taking control of my mind
Driving me to
Kill without mercy
I see red
Blood on
My hands
My knife
Crazed, boiling blood pumps through my heart
Pushing me to
Respond with violence
I spill their
Blood with
Vicious
Cruelty
Maniacal
Psychopath
Slash through the crowd of faces leaving a trail of bloody dead
Hold down the scumbag, slice off his ear, gouge out his fucking eyes
Pounding the human maggots, broken bones cause screams of pain
Femur pokes through the muscles in his upper leg, i wrench it out with force
Stabbing the faces
Knocking out teeth with my nail spiked bat
Internal damage
Trauma from beatings causes organs to burst
Maniacal
Psychopath
Chunks of butchered victims cover the floor in my wake
Frenzied battery and slashing slung pieces of face on the ceilings and walls
Raging violence will consume all of my damaged brain
Ruthless murders are the only way to make this impulse abate
Maniacal
Psychopath
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Other reviews
By mick7
"The usual punch to the teeth, in short."
"A massacre from beginning to end, period."
