Carcass
Torn Arteries

I’ll try to be as brief as possible on this gray and rainy September morning.

My verdict on the new Carcass album is totally, absolutely negative.

I have read almost only positive comments online; reviews describing a great album, a return of exquisite craftsmanship. De gustibus... However, when I read too many praises for a new work, doubts begin to arise in me, even without having listened to Torn Arteries in its entirety.

In fact, there are only five tracks that I’ve selected, that I chose to “test,” so to speak. They were enough for me to reject the album.

And Carcass, I’d like to remind those few who don’t know me, is one of those bands I idolized, morbidly, at the end of the eighties until the release of Heartwork in 1993. A ruthless, legendary, bloodthirsty group that knew how to combine Grindcore and Death Metal, offering macabre jewels of unprecedented violence and malevolent expressiveness.

But let’s return to the present.

Starting with the cover, which I find terrible, a complete farce. What is that vegetable heart surrounded by a clean, spotless white background supposed to represent? No comment, it's better that way...

Nuclear Blast’s production as usual is precise, crystal clear, linear; but why not dirty the scene with something raw, rotten, that refers to the gruesome past of the Carcasses? Again, I won’t say more, I might be too vulgar and rude...

Jeff Walker and Bill Steer remain; seasoned fifty-somethings who still want to amaze, not succeeding as far as I'm concerned.

And let's get to the songs. Again, I’ve only listened to half of them, going beyond my auditory tolerance level. I found them boring, banal, predictable. I mention the opener "Torn Arteries" which contains all those thumbs-down elements: a restrained start, then the typical Carcass burst of speed, with Jeff and Bill’s two voices trying to find themselves, to intimidate, to scare. But that doesn't happen, unfortunately. Bill's technically valid guitar solo, very Hard-oriented, but always on the side of banality.

But it's the almost ten minutes (ten minutes for a Carcass song? I couldn't believe it, believe me) of "Flesh Ripping Sonic Torment Limited" that make me even angrier, thanks to the first 20 seconds where you only hear an acoustic guitar, played gracefully, melancholically. Unbelievable... I’ll skip over the abundant nine minutes that I would dare to define as Death-Prog giving a stomach ulcer.

An album that will sell like hotcakes, I’m sure. But for me, Carcass is, rather were, something completely different.

Diabolos Rising 666.