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Year 1995, the Canadians Cryptopsy release their first full-length after the demo “Ungentle Exhumation,” recorded the previous year. Deeply influenced by their fellow countrymen Gorguts and, more generally, by all the early '90s American Brutal Death, they compose ten tracks that are quite varied among themselves, characterized by good technical skill (though far from the virtuosity of later albums) and relatively catchy.
The unclear production and, in my opinion, too little compression, penalizes the five by presenting muddled and indistinct guitar sounds. Noteworthy are the bass breaks present in songs like “Defenestration” and “Gravaged” which will become a constant in subsequent albums. The loved-hated singer Lord Worm uses a very guttural voice that makes the album darker but might initially seem out of place.
The lyrics focus on themes dear to the genre (death, necrophilia etc.) treated with unique dark humor, although, as the title already suggests, about a third are blasphemous and aimed at the wildest iconoclasm (amazing that of “Mutant Christ”). Even if alongside masterpieces of the genre (like “Effigy Of The Forgotten” by Suffocation or “Butchered At Birth” by Cannibal Corpse) this album might seem like a pleasant substitute, I believe it is nonetheless a good Brutal Death album, well-played with a massive dose of nastiness and compositional ability.
Above all, it’s a good way to enter the musical world of Cryptopsy, which in later, much more technical and complex albums, becomes almost unapproachable without prior training. In conclusion, I would recommend this album both to enthusiasts of the band, who will appreciate its genuine and immediate character, and to fans of more classic and traditional Death, as well as to those looking for something more original without venturing into more innovative territories. “Blasphemy Made Flesh,” in fact, well combines the trinomial: personal style-classic canons-originality.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Defenestration (04:36)
Oh what a gal!
She seems such a perfect victim:
This I can tell, for if beauty by guilt,
she's guilty
Ordinarily,
I'd not wish to frighten her or hurt her,
But such beauty inspires one
to give the gift of murder
She's the kind of girl you want to
run up and tackle through a window some floors up
and spatter you both to hell
Come and get it;
your stuffed bunny's at the window,
But not that far out...
Reach little one! Reach!...
02 Abigor (03:47)
O most luscious cenobite,
you wield your whip
as though it were another appendage;
Favor me with pleasure-pain,
rip me with your claws
Chew me with your saw-toothed cunt
Dead eyes alive with darkness to match their sockets,
they blaze with unmatched cruelty
Leave those long thorns embedded in your scalp,
They look stuck in far enough to hurt
Hell's polyhedron has blessed you
Your peerless beauty drips of sin
In this time of configuration,
blessed order shall prevail
Two sides to the war on flesh
Leviathan, who can't smile, beams
Encased in leather as it is,
I can't drink from your neck
It shall remain its soft, cold, blue-white:
I'll bind your pround breasts with barbed wire
I wish to partake of their nectar... Is it pus?
I might breach your zippers
and open your face
I might gag you with an urchin
I long to hear a quiet sight escape
your lovely lips as I bite your fettered, smooth thighs
Love subverted, lust perverted
Bitch-goddess Abigor´s pretty face
can mask her suffering
Make you worship both her and her needles
Subjugate it, perforate it,
flesh reordered isflesh of use
I now rededicate my life
to what Abigor has shown me
03 Open Face Surgery (04:24)
I've learned to control my thoughts
ever since I recognized the first eavesdropper:
those who listen in on my thoughts,
my logic, my sanity
I cannot let them know I don't know
the verses, or converse in my head:
lash out at future foes,
banter with friends I've not yet met
The psychoaggressive minions of
your lord mock with laugher I can't hear,
with hidden scowls they admonish me
Nothing's sacred, Nothing's safe:
your filthy god is omnipresent,
this undying nonentity that haunts
my every waking dream
They watch me, his mortal flock,
they know me now by sight alone:
my thoughts are too well concealed...
Yet I sense more scrutiny
Fleeting lucidity's too loud for me,
let me be my silent self:
our existences irreconciled
Make them stop! I'm rotting fast...
The answer, painful though it may be,
is change
Alter my outer shell...
The listener's may not, then, know it's me
Open Face Surgery: short of pain
and long on masquerade
Ounce by ounce, lose a little weight
nip here, tuck there... So who needs eyelids?
05 Born Headless (04:29)
You're not emoting:
one of us will have to dig deeper;
These are my cheek nails:
Penetration, though unclean,
can make you bleed
in so many interesting ways;
I rend your flesh and caress your fears
as you weep
Human tragedy...
Let this be a lesson to you, it's symbolic
Let this dirt define your grave
Midmortemtorment,
ornament of dandling flesh;
Why do you vomit?
You should have seen the last one I did:
I chewed it to a paste and spit it out
when I was done, yet the gummy taste
of anus still smothers my tongue
Girth control, to me, is considered an art;
Fat's fully excised as I tear you apart;
my maleficence is as deep aas it can get:
I derive enjoyment from cruel torture
and messy death
I tear your legs from their sockets
to ease my pilfering of your pockets
Better for you if you'd been born headless
Blame your mother you weren't born headless
Now that it's over, you'll be remembered,
but not missed, swathed in cerements
to keep in the precious cold
I turn and pass away in violence an gunfire;
the earth soaks up my brain...
I see myself as I've been
I see myself
06 Swine of the Cross (03:06)
Man-made doom bled death from the sky;
to all but a few, salvation was denied
Heavenly father, son and holy ghost,
save your servants (those of us who aren't toast)
The not-yet-dead discovered that to be
a nuclear family means a whole new thing;
All-too-trusting shambling pseudomorphs
put their trust in a man of the cloth
Make them hate you, rotting cleric...
Remember, you are pu of my loins, you are pus
Give voice to your left side, let me in:
I've sawn the seeds of your redemption;
In subhumanicide, I am your guide:
seventy-seven times make them die
The sun is shining on a brand new day
Blackened corpses smolder where they slain;
Self-flagellation prompts him to confess:
Bless me father, for I made this mess
Immolation meant to purify sin wracked souls
Let diseased bodies die; survivors twice lost:
Betrayed in fire, by the Swine of the Cross
07 Gravaged (A Cryptopsy) (02:47)
Ungentle exhumation
Must be thorough, remove it all
Catalogue every part,
Then rape them and eat them
How dare them bury
what should be mine
My dead companions
on which I dine
Penetrate the dead hole
Please, O lord, just let it smell
and let mankind's puniverse
be befouled just for me
My graveside manner
lacks no finesse
These ravaged bodies
betray no distress
As I tear apart the dead things
I annoint them with my seed
and gain new insights into death
with their consumption
Yet I wonder,
What if I were something dead?
Somewhere there's a graveyard of ghouls
with a massive headstone
that waits just for me;
Maybe someday
Someone will come
09 Mutant Christ (04:21)
Abobinated, tiny god of mine
Overseeing my rest, my lust, my life
Torched in hatred
Loved in Horror sublime
Almost formless
Darkened, and yet you shine
You made me in your image
I deformed yours into mine
Now we're even, O loving god
Equals in my melting eyes
Mutant christ, loving christ
Know me with thine naked eyes
Holy christ, one tenth the size
So unlike the other christs
God-made man (with)
man-made god to adore
Idolatry?
My faith has been restored
Gaze upon me
Bless me, lord, or die
I'll find another little lord to fry
You baked me in this image
so I burned yours into mine
Eye for eye and tooth for tooth
I love you now, O twisted christ
Mutant Christ
10 Pathological Frolic (04:34)
Who is this Geoffrey?
All I see is this cold cadaver
Why is this Geoffrey
lying in puddles of pus on a gurney?
Tell me of this Geoffrey,
this boy with a noose around his neck;
More about Geoffrey:
why is he wearing his mother's bra?
How old was Geoffrey?
At a guess, I'd say
about twelve or thirteen;
He died accidentally
from auto-erotic asphyxiation;
He'd been masturbating...
our little stiff still has one on
and it's been one week!
The resurrection men
took their sweet time
Cross-dressed fruit:
what a way to die!
Now he's ours:
the apple of our eve;
Fetch the dead sphincter:
cold green meat
How did his ass taste?
Tender and sweet...
And then we fucked it...
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