Taking Hardcore to leaden apexs not too far off the Maruta margin, vis a vis in those cold dark and dishevelled corridors of musical luridness from which to draw dark inspiration; although outcome wise arriving at a distinctly different but equally syrupy verge, Floridas remorseless and openly hostile hardcore scourge crawl back out of the heart of darkness and have at it again, tinkering a three track formulation intent on putting ash-singed craters to where ear canals once stood in a searing detonation of twisted noise.
Dropping the few and far between shudders of doubt and wavering idealogical readiness to commit a partisan act of audio terrorism found in their wonderful 2011 demo, they instead return readier than ever transfixed on an insurrection with no limitation on depravity. Opening track Genetic Death blitzkriegs its way forward leaving nothing but ash and bone in its wake, flickers of Disrupt bursting forth. Hostilities resume under middle track Creatures continuing the take no prisoners’ doctrine already set in motion, the gritting feedback resembling the sounds of a roaring fires, as the cackling ends so begins the final track Flagship, similar to the previous two, but for the roaring ending, however by this point resistance has already become futile and God Harvest have their unholy victory.
If God Harvest wasn’t heavy enough for you, enter in the king of grind squalor: Cogs and Sprockets, their asbestos laden spectre an undignified spew of grindcore vulgarity that makes no pretension in any regard to being something artful neither in form nor motive. 6 torrential tracks shafted against a serrated noise exterior, bursting forth a miasma of decibels cracking and croaking under immense sonic pressure, yet never bursting into a degeneration of meaningless abstraction or hollow complacency. The gritty production values antagonize the recorded material to a bounty of success, giving that coarse edge to an immodest arrangement, a pairing that go hand in hand and cannot be envisaged to any degree of success in any other way. The two and a half minute run time to it leaves a certain void of emptiness to this half, especially since it ends just as momentum attains full swing, but all in all does little detriment the overall steamroll the release has on you. This malnutrition of material may have become an integral part of his M.O, but hope still remains that he will eventually grace us with something meatier to gnaw at.
(True Story: When listening to the Cogs and Sprockets half I thought there was dust on my needle, and kept trying to clean it in vain, going so far to think I had to order a new needle for my turn table, it took far longer than I would like to admit to realize that gritty clamor was just the burly production values.)