Sadus
A Vision of Misery

Violence, brutality, technique, and ingenuity. Horror atmospheres and episodes of ferocity, resulting from a drastically techno-death elaboration.
This is how the third work of the Californian band, released in 1992, takes shape, confirming itself as one of the most significant works in the scene. Analyzing it deeply and comparing it with the two previous works, we realize that "A Vision of Misery" includes fewer nuances, but at the same time enjoys a greater technical complexity. The epileptic and violent sound offers horror hints, leading us into a chilling intersection between terror and reality. The initial death metal combines with thrash rhythms and speeds, with some jazz and fusion echoes. The participation of Steve Digiorgio in the Death album "Human" enriches the technique, offering even more measured and sophisticated riffs. Indeed, in the album, we can find points of contact with Schuldiner's work, albeit with a rougher style.

The bassist takes center stage, thanks to numerous solo interventions and splendid and complex bass lines. The incredible mastery of Steve begins to be recognized in the metal world, establishing the verdict of “bass prodigy” and future promise. The line-up, unchanged since the debut, includes Digiorgio, singer Darren Travis, guitarist Rob Moore, and drummer Jon Allen. The vocals recreate sadistic and evil atmospheres, emitting screams that seem to come directly from hell, accompanied by rabid spasms and lacerating groans. Moore alternates articulated riffs, endowed with great speed and power, with schizophrenic solos. Allen, for his part, doesn’t stand idly by and coordinates the compositions, breaking into some pieces powerfully, thanks to the double bass pedal.

Historic episodes are "Through the Eyes of Greed" and "Facelift," supported by Travis's unheard-of screaming. At position number five, we find "Throwing Away the Day," containing Digiorgio’s identity card. "Valley of Dry Bones" and "Slave to Misery" march compactly and quickly, pausing at times to emphasize the foursome's skill, only to start off again even more persistently.
Sadus literally switch between a time and a rhythm, varying the dynamism, violence, and complexity present in an album that is as technical as it is deadly, to be listened to in one breath.