Today Is the Day
In the Eyes of God

There's no denying it, Steve Austin really chose a beautiful cover for this "In the Eyes of God." Elegant, fine, refined, just like the music that lies behind it. This 1999 piece brings us back to the most violent and cathartic Today is the Day. The attempt of a more melodic and experimental approach that characterized the previous "Temple of the Morning Star" has not been completely abandoned but rather surpassed, sublimated, overturned in speed and schizophrenia.

In my opinion, it's not right to talk about grindcore: the technical skill of the three members is too high, and the changes in tempo and atmosphere that characterize the various tracks are too many and too lightning-fast. Ultimately, Mister Austin's boundless ego is too overbearing, his existential discomfort too penetrating, his cry of hatred and pain too disturbing. Nevertheless, grindcore remains the closest thing to this sonic delirium, otherwise indefinable. A grindcore, mind you, soaked to the feet in the rancid water of a filthy sewer of a criminal asylum.

20 tracks for 50 minutes of pure madness, a massacre that finds no specific points of reference except in the sick, inimitable, unmistakable genius of Steve Austin, now a guarantee in the broader spectrum of extreme music all around. Here and there, one can trace vague influences borrowed from classic death metal (buzzing guitars sometimes reminiscent of Morbid Angel, blasphemous vocal gunshots obviously inspired by Glenn Benton of Deicide), but for the rest "In the Eyes of God" is the reinterpretation of Austin's evil art in an even more brutal and Mephistophelean key. Austin's autistic genius is now like the stagnant water of a putrid pond that ferments over time, exhaling ever more harmful and pestilential poisons.

Bringing a breath of fresh air is a completely revamped lineup. And it must be said that this time Austin surrounds himself with truly extraordinary musicians, and I'm talking about Brann Dailor (drums) and Ben Kelliher (bass), who would soon swell the ranks of the phenomenal Mastodon. In particular, Dailor delivers a truly outstanding performance: his drumming is incredible, continually evolving but always and still devastating.

What else to add? The tracks, without granting anything to melody, flow dynamic, imaginative, driven by Austin's uncontrollable madness, who spews all possible hatred against God, against the "Great Lie" hidden behind the figure of God: Austin's scream/lament of fury/pain, both executioner and victim, is a whirlwind of murderous madness grinding and secreting negative emotions without finding a moment of respite or reflection. How can one not mention, for example, the emotional abyss into which we are dragged by the seven revolting minutes of "Going to Hell", or the deadly trilogy "Spotting a Unicorn" - "Possession" - "The Color of Psychic Power", three epileptic shards that can only leave the unwary listener breathless.

Short, irrational tracks, disarticulated into non-structures, where the good and bad weather is made by Austin's disturbed and disturbing bark, sketching chilling monologues always and still soaked in blood, contempt, despair.

The ghost of "Temple of the Morning Star", the abstruse guitar constructions, the desolate arpeggios, the hallucinated atmospheres that characterized the work from two years prior emerge only occasionally, transfigured, engulfed, ground in the trembling chaos that animates this new incarnation of the Nashville Sect: children's choirs infest "The Russian Child Porn Ballet", while in "Argali", "Who is the Black Angel?", "False Reality" and "Martial Law" Austin's insane art temporarily calms in paranoia and illness, before the grind fury returns to sweep everything away. "There is no End", the annihilating closing track, deceives us in its false conclusions, like a game of Russian dolls, taking us directly to Hell through the frenetic rhythms of a heart-pounding instrumental coda and the unsettling lullabies of a voodoo ritual.

A masterpiece. For my part, even superior to "Temple of the Morning Star," which many point to as the artistic pinnacle of Today is the Day. Listen to die.