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They were formed in the city of Buffalo, New York, in 1987; fellow citizens of the much more well-known Cannibal Corpse. They soon moved to Florida, the homeland of the then emerging U.S. Death Metal scene (Death, Morbid Angel, Obituary, just to name three bands that are the ABC of the genre). And the state of sunshine and hurricanes became the headquarters of Malevolent Creation.
They have not yet stopped weaving their horrible musical webs, releasing their latest work in 2015; the twelfth in chronological order.
But today I will focus on "The Fine Art Of Murder" from 1998; a monstrous tour de force, almost reaching a full hour in length. The album title directs us towards the themes of the lyrics: heinous murders, putrescent corpses, censored sexual practices.
I'll say it right away: we are at exquisite levels, terrifying in terms of ferocity and interpretative frenzy. Just slightly below their acclaimed masterpieces from the beginning of their career "Stillborn" and "The Ten Commandments"; for the highest ratings, in my opinion, they just needed to "prune" the excessive length of "The Fine Art of Murder." Really too many 57 minutes divided into a good 13 tracks.
Brett Hoffmann returns to the vocals after a forced exile of a few years; his scream is one of the key elements of the album. A venomous and erosive growl, always understandable, that is supported and massively amplified by the blinding work of the two guitars. A continuous and precise construction of infinite riffs; dark, gloomy, degenerate. The contribution of the drummer is no less: hallucinatory tempo changes, intricate plots, insane execution speed. A disruptive force that constantly maintains levels of intensity that can hurt during the interminable listening of the album.
A primitive, raw, slippery Death Metal that overflows with Thrash outbursts; no concessions, no breaks except for a chilling acoustic intro (not even too successful) at the beginning of the penultimate track. Coherence and absolute dedication from Malevolent Creation; a cornerstone, for thirty years, of all American extremism...BONE EXPOSED...
Ad Maiora.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 To Die Is at Hand (03:38)
[Music: Fasciana; lyrics: Hoffmann]
Scoff at the bloodloss
No feeling of repulsion
Grabbing at insanity
Life is your illusion
You will die, I will not cry
I will live, you will not
You will die, I will not cry
Black expands dying's at hand
Stand firm upon battlements
Many fall orders followed
Weak die embarrassment
Heroes' names are hallowed
To die alone in terror
Many die in horror
Bodies clutch together
For peace to try and restore
You will die, I will not cry
I will live, you will not
You will die, I will not cry
Black expands dying's at hand
Plans are laid, bodies displayed
Lands are taken, bones are breaking
Scoff at the bloodloss
No feeling of repulsion
Grabbing at insanity
Life is your illusion
You will die, I will not cry
I will live, you will not
You will die, I will not cry
Black expands dying's at hand
Stand firm upon battlements
Many fall orders followed
Weak die embarrassment
Heroes' names are hallowed
To die alone in terror
Many die in horror
Bodies clutch together
For peace to try and restore
You will die, I will not cry
I will live, you will not
You will die, I will not cry
Black expands dying's at hand
05 Mass Graves (06:18)
[Music: Fasciana; lyrics: Hoffmann]
Annul a race, destroy a kind
I'll take their land, I won't lose mine
Murder honored <i>[misprinted as "honered" in CD liner notes?]</i>, peace is quelled
Death or dishonor, spirit melts
Pushing on, fire fight
Limbs on the ground, blinded sight
Piercing slug, piercing scream
Spraying blood, my enemy
Setting sights to take lives
To delimb, no war crimes
Feel the rape of your land
Drop like shit, useless stand
Incendiary <i>[misprinted as "Incinderary" in CD liner notes?]</i>, you are ended
Still to fight, attempt and defend
Let me hear your battle cry
Is it the same before you die
Smell the death, inhale <i>[the/your]</i> pain
Taste the fear, violent insane
Skin burns hotter before it's cold
Into mass graves the bodies roll
Marching on killing fields
Through the blood pools wars ideals
Slice or hack or all is lost
Nuclear frost
Hand to hand, gun on gun
Biggest kill ratio wins the hunt
Pace the shells follow through
Extinguish and rule
Marching on killing fields
Through the blood pools wars ideals
Slice or hack or all is lost
Nuclear frost
Hand to hand, gun on gun
Biggest kill ratio wins the hunt
Pace the shells follow through
Extinguish and rule
Mass graves, the slain lie
Mass graves, coved with lye
Mass graves, tortured soul cries
Mass graves, war crimes
Annul a race, destroy a kind
I'll take their land, I won't lose mine
Murder honored <i>[misprinted as "honered" in CD liner notes?]</i>, peace is quelled
Death or dishonor, spirit melts
Setting sights to take lives
To delimb, no war crimes
Feel the rape of your land
Drop like shit, useless stand
Incendiary <i>[misprinted as "Incinderary" in CD liner notes?]</i>, you are ended
Still to fight, attempt and defend
Let me hear your battle cry
Is it the same before you fucking die
Smell the death, inhale <i>[the/your]</i> pain
Taste the fear, violent insane
Skin burns hotter before it's cold
Into mass graves the bodies roll
11 Scorn (03:11)
[Music: Fasciana; lyrics: Hoffmann]
So, you think you've won
Fucked up all my fun
Reason that I live
All that I can give
I will find another
The worse it will be
You may have stopped this
But you can't stop me!
Staring at you, obsessing
Grabbing for you, mind stressing
Staring at you, obsessing
Grabbing for you, mind stressing
Stalk, scorned
Again I will unleash
This lust, it is my call
I know that I feast
Your body soon will fall
Pray to the stalker
Prey of the stalker
Hiding in trees
Peering through windows I see
That which will be solely owned by me
Stalking scorned
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