Gnaw Their Tongues
Reeking Pained And Shuddering

Into The Pandemonium

One among the many possible hells, naturally.

It is challenging to place with clinical accuracy the Dantesque Circle in which the aberrant Dutch outfit, known by the unpresentable moniker Gnaw Their Tongues, leads us during this nefarious and total pentagrammatized apocalypse.

The asphyxiating, blind, engulfing, repulsive, and irreversible substance staged in "Reeking Pained And Shuddering," the second effort dating back to the end of the just-concluded previous year, might perhaps be appropriately placed among the unfrequentable depths of the infamous Seventh Circle: because it is necessary to a priori inflict violence upon oneself to attempt to enter into a musical-relational, aberrant harmony and subsequently withstand the impossible shock emanated in the accidented course of the heinous recklessness staged in these six(sixesix) insane yet luridly infamous scraps, dripping with unusual madness and subliminal martyrdom from every single fragment.

An utterly uncompromising, fanatically excessive, and simultaneously ruinously fascinating work: a chilling blend where massive layers of Weird Music irreversibly collide, clashing, topped on just as many grotesquely disguised electro-industrialoid sublimations; "Blood Spills Out Of Everything I Touch," the 'evolved' opening track, takes no prisoners: a genuinely dark, sick, unmanageable sound-monolith of eight minutes and beyond, during which the worst sound-nightmares it is (dis)humanly possible to imagine materialize: an inextricable and impregnable substance based on avantgarde/bestial/black/drone/doom/ritual music: stuff, to make it clear, for immediate and forced hospitalization in a mental asylum (if they hadn't, in due time, appropriately locked them up).

"Nihilism; Tied Up And Burning" might prove indigestible even to enthusiasts of canonically standardized extreme-music due to the reckless, virulent, and autistic ultra-grind fury submerged by a thick blanket of incandescent lava in addition to a few slight tonnes of assorted contaminated post-industrial debris.

Add to all this a rather 'artisanal' recording quality with the additional aggravating factor, in absence, of volumes deliberately out of control and eccentrically convulsive: you get one of the most "out," impermeable and simultaneously interesting works of recent times.

Stay clear (You who are about to enter).