Orthrelm
Iorxhscimtor

This review is dedicated to those who experienced the release of "Torture Garden" in real-time and fell in love with it at first sight, or rather, at first listen; it may seem strange, considering that in over ten years no one had attempted it, but Naked City lives again in these Orthrelm, an American ensemble with an unpronounceable name (not to mention the album title) that openly draws inspiration from John Zorn's creation. For some, it may be bad, for me, it's such a bold and successful attempt that it deserves great attention from all those who consume extreme music (from metal to Free Jazz, both protagonists of this release).

Twelve tracks, twelve tracks for a total duration of about a quarter of an hour, that is, just over a minute per track: at least in this aspect the group distances itself from the aforementioned work, whose tracklist included forty-three songs, some lasting three or four seconds (an element borrowed from Stormtroopers Of Death's "Speak English Or Die" and Napalm Death's "Scum").

Our band, on the other hand, unfortunately for the listener, commits to composing pieces that exceed two minutes, all rigorously fast-paced, without interruptions, and completely devoid of any logic. The fascinating thing is that not even putting a musical score in the hands of a flock of toucans (who usually don't know what music is nor how to write it) would result in something worse, but Orthrelm knows what music is and they know how to write it; indeed, they know how to write it like few others, as they manage to put together a score starting from notes that are not music, not a melody, and inconceivable by a human mind. Contrary to what one might believe, Orthrelm doesn't play a vacuum cleaner and a dot matrix printer, but rather a genius guitarist and drummer who, at the drawing board, decided to write extremely difficult music that doesn't seem like music but rather a random assortment of sounds.

"The derailment of the senses," Rimbaud called it; but here we don't speak of symbolism, the notes of "Iorxhscimtor" do not refer to the noumenal world and are not emblematic of something else. They are pure cacophony, they are the antithesis of harmony, they are unwholesome vibrations and cerebrally dangerous; for those unfamiliar with Naked City and lack a comparison point, I'll try to explain better. Imagine taking the most uncompromising and annoying Grind and having it rape equally uncompromising and annoying Jazz; do Cephalic Carnage come to mind? It's not wrong, but you still have a long way to go. Here we are in international waters, where there's no longer "metal" or "jazz," here there is violence against the ear and senses, there is cosmic disorder and there is the genius (the more "open-minded" will say "wasted") of two individuals. Each song is practically a long guitar solo that follows inhumanly difficult scales that have nothing pleasant, rigorously executed at high speeds and with a background of relentless drumming. Blast beats, and then simply confusion, meticulously programmed, but always confusion. Drum rolls devoid of rhythm, an excessive and uncontrolled use of cymbals, murderous speeds that go their own way while the shrill voice of the six strings outlines broken lines that don't have a known destination.

Modern art, abstractionism. In "Iorxhscimtor" everything is wrong but it's meant to be this way: "Iorxhscimtor" has nothing suitable for humans. There is emptiness and there are a guitar and a drum set. Everything you've always considered surreal becomes real, someone has finally taken the trouble to let you hear what in your mind is "a dreadful sound." So there's no need for me to further extol the instrumental technique of the two performers or exalt their compositional skills; I've already removed enough magic from this album by delving into the details so much, now the decision is up to you.

A Must for those who love extremism in general and for those who want to have a new experience: management assumes no responsibility in case of permanent damage to things and people...