Dead Cross
Dead Cross

Thus spoke the user algol some time ago: "Like glass shattering in your face. The review is yours, it's up to you to handle it."

I seized the opportunity; therefore I am ready to write, terribly, about this disastrous debut of Dead Cross. The album of the year as far as auditory slaughter is concerned. Because this not even half an hour is truly something astonishing on a level of sonic violence.

Three names must immediately be highlighted to define the coordinates of the record: the erratic and bizarre voice of Mike Patton (there's no need to list the myriad of bands fortunate enough to cross paths with his vocal timbres so versatile, opposite, and bizarre). Next is the (in)human machine gun positioned behind the drums: it is his holiness Dave "triple bass drum" Lombardo (I mention Slayer just to cause further turmoil in the atomic detonation that comes from listening to the ten absurd cuts). And finally, the perfect, clean, stunning production entrusted to Ross Robinson (Deftones, Sepultura, Fear Factory, Machine Head have passed through his hands).

Mike and Dave have known each other since the days of Fantomas; and it's from this band that our guys want to start again. Absolute compositional freedom, deadly interludes, sudden apocalyptic accelerations; they record for "Ipecac," a label owned by Patton himself. So, they highly ignore fashions and trends; they want to hurt, and they are an unstoppable machine that sweeps and shatters everything.

They cover Bauhaus with a "withered" version of the funeral anthem "Bela Lugosi's Dead."

It begins with "Seizure And Desist" and ends lifeless, destroyed, and literally mentally liquefied with the concluding "Church Of The Motherfuckers" (!!!!).

Zorn, Napalm Death, Slayer are other reference points for a work from a criminal asylum.

We will all come out Crazy!!!

Ad Maiora.