Grindfather Productions

Review: Archagathus / Nak'ay 2013

archnakay.jpg

Mince-sleaze mongers Archagathus are at it again, and by it I refer to that unholy guttural clamour of vomitous GISM-eque bellows, sordid riffage and splintering percussive spiel, all slathered in a nauseating excess gloop of production muck and slime; delightful. Whilst the prince of mince and co's discography seems to be swelling at an exponential rate (every time I pick up an Archagathus release at least another two seem to stem forth) the band have a pretty cool non-linear progression about them that never makes for a dull Archagathus release. Having besieged all things gorey, noisey and absurd in their ever bastardising breed of mince this split with Nak'ay takes a more direct attitude: maximum pulverization, making this one of if not the most gut wrenchingly heavy and brutal of Archagathus' records to date (its hard to quantify when you have half a billion releases), even still that inherent and charismatic goofiness and dankness is not lost on this pulverizing pursuit.

If the idea of Archagathus in and around their heaviest did not leave a puddle of Pavlovian drool below you then the thought of 12 tracks of post-Insect Warfare blare from the bestial miscreants Nak'ay will without a doubt do the trick.Very similar in texture to the now gone Cellgraft, Nak'ay possess all the acidity one would expect of the madness that manages to combine the raw appeal of Excruciating Terror with the sheer nuclear weight of Insect Warfare. I can only imagine that Nak'ays instruments are made of something as cutting and acrid as themselves, guitar heads made of rusted pipe, barbed wire strings and a drum kit made from rusted steel drums and and chunks of corrugated iron, meanwhile vocals lack any sort of human civility and are a feral ferocity that will trigger a hapless sense of fear from even the boldest of men. Any sense of rhythm, and I use the term loosely consists of cramming as much carnage as possible in as short time as possible, this coupled with Nak'ays ear for abrasive tones ranks them among the most fierce, loud and destructive bands in existence right now, and currently this being a 12 track venture its the closest we have got to a Nak'ay full length, so get behind it!

Archagathus / Nak'ay

EveryDayHate , Haunted Hotel RecordsPickle Dick RecordsD.I.TSuburban White Trash RecordsInsurgency RecordsWitch Bukkake RecordsAdamant Blasts,Grindfather Productions


Review: Warfuck, Neantification 2013

It took me far longer than I am willing to admit to realise that Néant is french for "The Void" and ergo  Neantification may be crudely translated as voidification or the process of voiding. This makes far more sense than my diacratic free googling which lead me to suspect Neanderthals or the North East Alliance of Anarchists or maybe even anarchist neanderthals. However if Warfuck are alluding towards anything the bleak nothingness one would expect of a void is the complete opposite of what is caged in this shard of wax, from a particularly delectable traumatic delivery Warfuck are offering only the most cruel of harmonics.

The most immediate impression is the overall anemic tone, the lack of bass guitar and thin yet depressed guitar tone give a deathly air to its adulterating exhalations, an ugliness in form that lends a particularly gaunt sickness throughout. Yet like the scurrying of a thousand cockroaches Neantification is bustling with pestilential energy, all activity is undertaken with an almost discourteous brevity, a continuous scutter of rhythmic corrosion that reinforces an overpowering sense of pressing danger and urgency. This crippling sense of listener panic is not helped by the crow like vocal squawks that seemingly bring forth a deeper more primal sense of fear forward with anxiety entwined with a need for survival. As for the drums here is a man who clearly learnt the way of a thousand blast beats, incredible variety and dexterity placed with fantastic precision, and with the greatest of respect the drums are what keep this rhythmic  locust swarm together and moving forward.

There are exceptions to the alchemical conduct too, vocal free slogger of a track Néant dims what little light was present for an apocalyptic neocrust like dirge fit to bury the earth in, and final track Rondelle takes a page from Robocop bringing a saxophone to a blast off. Both tracks are invigorating and a nice nuance from the overall plunge that Neantification offers, yet the fact remains that this is one beautifully aphotic and inflamed album worthy of your attentions. 

Warfuck (SiteFacebook, Bandcamp)

Every Day Hate Recs www.everydayhate.com / Pl 
Hecatombe Recs www.hecatomberecords.es / Es 
Grindpromotion Recs www.grindpromotionrecords.com / It 
Crustatombe crustatombe.free.fr / crustatombe@gmail.com / Fr 
Dingleberry Recs dingleberry@web.de / Ger 
Grindfather Production www.grindfatherprod.com / Uk 
No Way Asso nowayasso.blogspot.com / Fr 
Witch Bukkake Recs witchbukkakerecords.blogspot.fr / Fr 
Wooaaargh www.wooaaargh.com / Ger 
Booze Me Up Recs wladgod@hotmail.com / Fr 
EBC Distro/Prod ebcdistroprod@gmail.com / Fr 
Eardrum Terrorism jeanmichel.marlier@sfr.fr / Fr 
Underground Pollution undergroundpollution.e-monsite.com / Fr 
L'è Tütt Folklor Recs insomnia-isterica.tk / Ch 
Junky Monkey junkymonkeydiy.blogspot.fr / Fr 
Trendkill Recs www.trendkill.fr / Fr 

Raw Grind Chaos (Review: Unholy Grave/ Hatred Division 2012)

I think Henry Rollins summarized what being punk is quite nicely when he advocated it as hippies with a fierce attitude; a culture of protest, ethics and social consciousness:  a dualism of music and message which in the weird and wonderful world of 2012 is only held up by a few depraved under belly of punk derivatives, none more so than the grind is protest-ers  of mincecore. Sharing seven inches of wax and brooding dissent by way of spartan means of lo-fi feral vulgarity is old school blast masters Unholy Grave and grindcore underdogs of the third world Hatred Division, but before I put this 7" wonder under the cutting board I have a protest of my own to champion. And that protest being that they should  of kept the alternate artwork as per the test prints (have a looksie and the other side), sure it looks like something torn straight out of Conan the Barbarian novel and lacking in punk aesthetic, but killing orcs and in true homo-erotic power metal fashion never gets tiresome and would do much to bring a bit of color and character to the visually predictable depictions of woe and wrong; surprise in this instance being a good thing especially when trying to distinguish this unholy grave release against several hundred others.

Jumping back to the core issue: the actual content, this release is as ripe as they get, hooking you tightly right from the get go and systematically churning out one squalid track of socially embittered fury after another, little wonder it so quickly needed a repress to which they  addressed the visual photocopier bore with a nice cheery shade of blood red on both print and wax. 

 First up is Unholy Grave, who ever true to form blurt out their logic defying twirls of old-school grindcore entertainment in complete excess: their standard madman howls, riveting angular riffs and tremoring blasts, all lifted straight from a rehearsal recording giving in that coarse edge the band thrive off, although this time it is noticeably more raw than other Unholy Grave material, but not in the burly dense way but rather feels consistently flimsy. Even so the tracks are joyfully grindful and extract from the listener a sort of light hearted energy which idealistically peaks exactly at the end of their side.  The band tightly in their comfort zone of short excursions of zero post production tape recorder type old school obliteration. 

Now what follows is crafty in a coincidental sort of way that really gives the unique charm of the release, in that whilst still fresh in our mind all the things we wanted from the Unholy Grave side from nudges in production values and a deeper sound are now presented in Unholy Grave gold standard, except its not Unholy Grave, but Malaysias purveyor of all things bitter Hatred Division. Its one of those surreal wish comes true - lets double check that - holy shit I can bend the universe to my will moments, to which my review has probably ruined the surprise for you if you haven't checked the release out already. Even by the time this unintended novelty value wears thin, the stranglehold Hatred Division on you doesn't, from the strength of this release alone the band are steam rolling themselves to be the next Sakatat. 

Perhaps redundant, but I can only describe them as being the best choice cuts of Unholy Grave type band, the only real differences I can take from this 5 minute wonder ride of old school purity is that their temperament is slightly less on the crazy end and slightly more so on the aggressive end, a bantam shift, which really does nothing to detach themselves from the tit of Unholy Graves grinding milk. So expect a parade of blasts, ungodly growls and grumbles all conjoined by some intense and hooking string work in the most flattering of  ways, that can sit alongside Archagathus Mincecore Demo, Sakatats half of Cut your throat split and Unholy Graves half of their Rotten Sound split in Alex's wall of perfect Mincecore releases. 

Rioutous Outburst / Grindfather Productions / Tombs In the Valley / FastDie / Extreme Terror  Production / Douchebag Records

No Smoke Without Fire (Review: Extreme Smoke 57 / H Incident 2012)

extremesmokehinicidentsplit.jpg

Musical theory and mechanics alas aren't really in my faculties of cognition, everything in my review repertoire being construed from emotional perception, an amateurish grasp on the fundamentals and a complacency found by the sheer quantity of music I expose myself to, that I may pick up on distinctions and similarities offering some level of comparability when writing. At best I am an overenthusiastic fan who lacks a decent hobby and thus commit myself to this passion, and like any fan who pays too much attention to something crackpot notions and fan theories are bound to spring up. One such theory I subscribe to, a sentiment probably shared by many already is that grindcore is an umbrella genre, ie its not limited to a particular set of rules or standards, but instead is a collection of various play styles, although different in content and expression share a similar alignment and thus are grouped together; the recent pairing in wax of slavic brothers in grind Extreme Smoke 57 and H-Incident being an obnoxious piece of evidence to such a claim. 

So first up is Slovenia's Extreme Smoke 57, who in an alternate universe alongside other continental European grind fathers like Patareni and Schismopathic are given their rightful due for their lessor role in shaping the genre back in the genres infantile years. In any case their 15 years on ice came to an end back in 2008 and this recent exploit alongside two other splits form their forray into the world of 21st century grind. The tail end of their earlier sounds came across as an outrageous brawling mess of Sore Throat, with an unyielding fanaticism placed on speed, brevity of songs and bordering on the confines of noise, yet this recent expedition seems to tone down much of that in great sizeable chunks in place of  more grooving rumbles and spittling simmers of noisegrind tenacity. Clearly their time in absence has been cruel to them and cut down on their reflexability and dulled their hearing, however this is a limitation the band have realised for they have acted upon it quite fiercely forsaking much of their past and developed a tight frollocking Bathtubshitter type groove, gutter and absurdities, even so though its an austere demotion that yanks them into mediocrity. That being said though their trinity of tracks have no shortage of character, a bizzare sticky sort that will find you taken unawares by the peculiar rebellious guitar rolls, even after repeated listens. Extreme Smoke 57 are somewhat outgunned by their legacy and whats on offer on the grind scene currently, but their side itself ain't half bad, an innate eccentricity that is interesting to say the least. 

Polands H-Incident occupy the B side of this release and tear out some callous grind grit, to whom in grind we crust is a directive served out with intense barbarity. Its the violent elements of G-Anx sheathed with buzzsaw guitar work, and is bound to make you keel over in aural convulsion, its philistine tone hellbent on offering a fortified expression of choleric wrath, abandoning all niceties and musical civilities and sophistication's in favour of a strong arm of grind primalism. Although not usually one for wasteful intros that have no bearing on the core content, the rightfully titled chaos introduction sets the mood just right, a sampling of violence before H Incident come stomping in and letting all hell break loose; sampling bleeding in at the end of the release also, depressurizing it from its inflamed temperament. There is something highly effective about the storm of burly guitar fuzz, ferocious blasts and intense screams which are all thrown together clashing violently that satisfies the inner brute in you. Even when H-Incident try to go all civilised and peace-punx with its penultament track Bands of Fools, it serves nothing more than to build the hunger for that eruption of musical bastardry again, to which after a minute of respite they drop the decorum and go back to hammering your in head in. The duo let loose all those years of punk bile in 5 minute outburst of unpretentious to the point musical flagellation, and although much to the detriment of my physical well being I would love to see something more lengthy from them.

Grindfather Production