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Rating: George Emmanuel III, known as Trey Azagthoth, was born on March 26, 1965, in Bellingham (State of Washington) and is best known for being the guitarist, as well as the founder and main composer, of the Morbid Angel, a true institution in the death metal scene. We won’t delve here into his importance within the genre; suffice to say that along with the divine Chuck, he is the most influential artist in the field of death metal: his morbid and expressionist guitar playing (which seems to see Mozart and Van Halen among its greatest influences!) will become a standard, a mandatory reference for all those who wish to engage in this musical genre.
But who really is Trey Azagthoth? We have known him as the undisputed leader, the father-master of Morbid Angel, the eccentric musician, and the ultimate composer of the band. A shy, angry, uncompromising and touchy character, one who would kick you out of the group if you didn’t suit him. And then, never a smile or a joyful pose: always bent over his guitar, with his hair covering his face, or hidden behind impenetrable sunglasses in official photos.
Yet, listening to Morbid Angel's discography, another Trey Azagthoth might emerge: more fragile, insecure, less gruff, and despotic than we might believe, or he might make us believe, or he himself might believe. My analysis, I must admit, is not based on thorough research or documented sources, nor does it adhere to the official statements made by the artist over time, but on impressions drawn from reading his music: subjective speculations of thought (ahahah - only a few will get this!) that tend to identify and follow an invisible thread that unravels along the journey of his incredible band. An interpretation rather than an analysis, and therefore, as an interpretation, it lends itself to criticism or opposing opinions. Let them come.
No shit: in “Altars of Madness” Azagthoth is obviously the prominent member, in essence, as the main composer, but also by right, as the founder and historical memory of the band. He is indeed the survivor of the original nucleus of Morbid Angel (with a certain Sterling Von Scarborough on bass and Mike Browning, later founder of Nocturnus, on vocals and drums): a lineup we will get to know thanks to the reissue, a few years later, of the demo “Abominations of Desolation”. Beware though, the contribution of the new travel companions isn’t negligible, and what companions!, I add: leaving aside for a moment the second guitarist Richard Brunelle (a velvet fart at the dawn of death metal), we find in formation the badass rhythm section of Terrorizer, namely Dave Vincent and Pete Sandoval, and by chance, the death metal of “Altars of Madness”, compared to what was previously done (stuff more thrash oriented), surely borrows something in terms of brutality and precision from the grind of Terrorizer. But without being boring, we might simply conclude that the early Morbid Angel was a conglomerate of strong and converging personalities: in their inexperience and youthful passion, these were indeed people with guts, but still very young people; these were kids, musicians who were yet to develop.
In “Blessed are the Sick” things change: the band appears more aware of its means and potential, the sound of Morbid Angel is more original, becomes decidedly more personal, but also more varied and melodic, thanks also to the inclusion in the setlist of several keyboard-based instrumental tracks. “Blessed are the Sick” will paradoxically remain the most melodic album of this first phase and perhaps the most melancholic of their entire career, and you know how the other guitarist Richard Brunelle was identified? "The melancholic soul of Morbid Angel". Is it a coincidence? If during the writing stage Brunelle had little weight (it's still his nice acoustic interlude, the only one in the band's history), it's undeniable that his presence gave a precise imprint to the overall sound of the band. And we talk about someone who was kicked out and then disappeared forever. Meanwhile, Sandoval refines his peculiar tendon-crushing drumming and Vincent starts to act like a pretty boy, imposing himself as a visionary lyricist with a half-open fly and a charismatic front-man of the band.
With Brunelle out, they go hard: “Covenant” is the most compact, rigorous album, the place where the three surviving personalities coexist harmoniously, literally building the Morbid Angel sound, destined to set a standard in the years to come (if you want to explain to a three-year-old what death metal is, have them listen to “Covenant”). Sandoval hands out lessons of unmatched class (not a smudge, not a strike out of place: already a prominent member in previous years in the club of blast-beat promoters, now he takes the spotlight with his martial rhythms and deadly double bass). Vincent gains increasing space, not so much as a bassist, but rather as an authoritative vocalist and bearer of the band's lyrical message (the lyrics are all satanic-themed, fiercely anti-Christian and, if you look closely, even somewhat fascist: all elements that distinguish the Vincent-thought, much less so the fantastic imagery of Azagthoth, who prefers to draw from the Lovecraftian literary universe - Sumerian gods strand included). Azagthoth, for his part, certainly does not make the absence of Brunelle felt (even if, to be honest, the songwriting is overall a bit duller, compositions more homogeneous and predictable), however, of the three, he is indisputably the one who progresses the least: having started with a clear advantage over his companions, within just three albums (from the dazzling debut, to the album of formal maturity, through the brilliant masterpiece that still had some naiveté), he reaches the finish line of success (“Covenant” boasts the record of the best-selling death metal album in the world) out of breath, already caught up by the other two sprinters.
If “Covenant” is a 33.33% x 3, with “Domination” the personality of Vincent becomes more and more cumbersome, until it prevails: “Domination” is the most industrial and experimental album that Morbid Angel has released to date. And who is the inspirer of this turn if not Vincent himself who, coincidentally, will soon leave the band to join his wife (incidentally, an incredibly attractive woman) in the Genitortures, an irrelevant band devoted to a mundane industrial-rock popular at the time? The shift of “Domination”, however, does not drastically change the sound of our Heroes and allows Azagthoth's expressive range to widen, giving him an opportunity to progress stylistically and to enjoy moments of great protagonism. However, a suspicion begins to arise that perhaps Azagthoth isn’t such a great mind (his passion for video games being a hint), that he may indeed be a great musician, but that his personality is weak, fragile, and in the dynamics of the group, he ends up playing the role of a weathervane: one who talks about military techniques with Sandoval and about women with Vincent.
Some words must nevertheless be spent on the good Erik Rutan, a talented young man (in 1995 he was twenty-two years old) enlisted as the second guitarist, called to fill a space that, even from a creative point of view, evidently could not remain vacant indefinitely: the guy knows his way around six strings, provides his honest contribution (even pens a few tracks: not a minor feat for the newcomer), but always with great deference to the master. The impression is that on one hand, the master needs to receive signs of esteem (hence the choice of a young man who sees him as an oracle: "You’re so good Trey, teach me everything, I owe you everything, I started listening to music with Morbid Angel, you’re the best" etc.); on the other hand, the disciple isn’t quite a puppet, contributing significantly to altering the forms of the Morbid Angel ("Master, you’re always right, infallible one, but I would use this effect for this solo...not to interfere, master, but don’t you think it’s appropriate to add this harmonization here?" etc.). In short, Azagthoth even in this circumstance is already getting overtaken by his collaborators, collaborators that soon, except for the loyal Sandoval, will leave him: even Rutan (“Tu quoque, Erik, fili mi!”), having gained the right visibility thanks to his tenure in such an important band, will leave to focus on his Hate Eternal.
And here we are at the "fatal" “Formulas Fatal to the Flesh”, the work of solitude for Trey, one of the most maligned albums of Morbid Angel: imagine Azagthoth's bitterness in the face of fans' criticisms who snubbed or judged the album negatively only for the departure of a heavyweight like David Vincent, or because this work does not follow the path of experimentation inaugurated by its predecessor. Azagthoth, furious, will shout to the world: "Ungrateful bastards, I write my best album ever, and you don't understand, but go fuck yourselves!". And we must believe him: the album in question will not be the best of Morbid Angel, but it remains the most authentic testament of Azagthoth's artistic vision: it is misleading the anonymous voice of the new entrant Steve Tucker, who in terms of charisma doesn’t even remotely touch the shoelaces of his predecessor, and, more generally, the abrupt return to brutality pre-“Domination”. Yet behind the speed of execution and those dark, dense sounds lies a brilliant songwriting, an Azagthoth who indeed continues his stylistic research (especially at the level of solos), while the lyrics mainly focus on Sumerian mythology and are full of those absurd and unpronounceable invocations that have always dotted the lyrics penned by the guitarist. It is therefore the Azagthoth album par excellence, almost a solo work, where he fully expresses his artistic personality, not without blemishes: perhaps it is an exaggeration to say it, but this work overflows with an incandescent creativity resulting from the explosion of an interiority that can finally express itself without limits, without the diktats or the simple influence of someone imposing another direction on his artistic vision.
With the subsequent “Gateway to Annihilation” this vision is consolidated: it is the most studied album, along with “Domination”, of Morbid Angel’s career: the direction is still firmly in Azagthoth's hands, however, where his absolute power was fully realized in “FFF” (as a work born under exceptional circumstances and under the sign of a traumatic event such as the separation with the long-time companion Vincent), here, having stabilized the situation and processed the mourning, that natural process of artistic erosion resumes, at the expense of the guitarist, which is now constant in the creative dynamics of the band. And so Tucker, more comfortable and having gained the right confidence, gains ground (not only is his growl more authoritative, but his contribution becomes more incisive in terms of writing, even reaching the point of writing a song in full autonomy). But not only that: the good Rutan is also brought back, actively participating in the writing of songs (and he too will write his own piece). Azagthoth, for his part, is less crazy, morbid, irrational, furious, his communicative urgency subsides, as if he finds comfort and assurance in the consolidation of the new lineup.
In the half misstep of “Heretic”, however, we see an Azagthoth depleted of energy and lacking a compass. Alone, in command, with the trustful Tucker and Sandoval, but no longer Rutan, whatever he says (he will declare that “Heretic” is the definitive album of Morbid Angel) he shows strong signs of wavering in terms of inspiration, but above all, he appears disoriented in carrying on the business. Producing a series of rather anonymous songs (but still worthy), supported only by professionalism, he seems to say: "And now what do I do? What do I come up with? I feel alone, help, I need someone to help me...
And here comes that bastard David Vincent to the rescue, fresh from the not-so-memorable experience with the Genitortures. But he certainly does not return with his head down and his tail between his legs: on the contrary, he is probably primarily responsible for the great flop that will be “Illud Divinum Insanus”. This is the only Morbid Angel album I do not own, but, having heard some snippets online, I've still formed an idea, and sincerely, I cannot comprehend how such a great band managed to produce such a monstrosity. It is truly, objectively, historically, undeniably a shitty album, ugly, embarrassing, that gives chills of shame when putting oneself in the shoes of the musicians who conceived it, composed, and executed: the legendary Morbid Angel filtering with techno, playing industrial/nu-metal tracks that not even the worst Marilyn Manson would play, mediocre stuff played with approximation, expression of total creative clouding. And it is undoubtedly all of Vincent’s doing, although Azagthoth had been going around for some time boasting about this fantastic infatuation for the more banging techno (hence the sad motto “extreme music for extreme people”). Poor Sandoval (at this point, luckily for him) had long been out of the game, removed first temporarily for health reasons and then definitively due to an improbable conversion to Christianity, and therefore due to manifest incompatibility with the corporate mission (and it will be Vincent who will treat him harshly in interviews, explaining his removal as the most natural thing in the world). But the concerning thing is that behind Vincent's ego, Azagthoth completely disappears, and it is here that truly my will to understand stops: it was very simple to make the eighth album of Morbid Angel, two farts of Vincent on a good honest death metal would have sufficed, and instead, the greatest suicide in the metal world is committed (the Metallica of “Load” and “Reload” seem like gentlemen in comparison). But what happened, Trey? Why did you lend yourself to this massacre? Why did you not say or do anything to prevent this disgrace? Why did you allow your band, the one you founded, made great, carried forward with great tenacity over the years, to discredit itself in this way? Wasn’t “Heretic” the best Morbid Angel album? Didn’t you state that clown Vincent was away from the band's ideology and therefore he could kindly go to hell? But are you really so weak and subject to external influences, suggestible before other people’s egos, as to change your mind completely within the span of a single album?
On the upcoming March 26, George Emmanuel III will blow out the fateful fifty candles: a great milestone, but also the reaching of an age that hardly fits with the sensitivity and life of someone playing death metal. What should we expect for the future? A wise return to the right path or the senile gesture that will lead to the ultimate mockery? I am convinced that the next work of Morbid Angel will be brutality unprecedented, nothing more than a due act, an intelligent way to apologize to the fans: although the Cat and the Fox continue to claim that the fans' judgments do not matter to them, it is the fans and not others who bring the dinero to the fund, and this the two know very well. Anyway, the turn to take, whatever it may be, will still be willed by Vincent the Fox, who always had an eye for his wallet, and not by Azagthoth the Cat (unless Vincent leaves again), although he too needs to make it to the end of the month. And to us, I’ll tell you, an epilogue full of brutality will do just fine....
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