Don't Make A Beggar of Me (Review: Let it Die, ST 7" 2012)

Let it Die - Self Titled 7"

The pestilential hand from which Let it Die congest the air ways of their Rotten Sound comparability for a throatier and irate transmutation, now claws its way deeper into a morose chasm of sedative macabre. Their custom of blemishing their metalised hardcore tropes with stygian veneer has surpassed a defining moment where it it now possess a life blood of its own and can dedicate itself fully to offering a cohesive and compelling listening experience. In that regard it is needless to say that upon dissecting their 2011 Demo to this commitment to wax shows a great deal in terms of artistic prosperity and cultivation of character.

Their musical heave they rapture in continuous musical shudders retains a steady musical direction; no wandering or elusion just each consecutive blast bringing it closer and closer to the glaring abyss, the presence of which has already poisoned the atmosphere in a shaded cast of morbidity. As a mob this three piece gel together tightly with industrial precision, allowing the onset of their musical strangulation to come down as as a constrictive singularity with tight muscular tension.  However drawing a divisive line my favoured constituent to their sunless suppression would be the vocals,  a hoarse blare cast in iron commanding great swaths of energy with lyrical bleakness. Guitars and drums enjoy a deep symbiotic bond that gives their collusive clamour a firm grip on the listener, with the only deviation from the lacerating norm is an abating moment of hardcore despair found in Self interest as the engine of progress, to which they accommodate this nod to their hardcore influences with a great deal of tact.

Let it Die don't exploit musical extremities such as speed, heaviness or any extroversion in excess to offer a decimating musical experience, their crasis being a dedicated articulation of musical commitment and investiture which makes this 7" an immersive experience well worth partaking in. 


Purchase: Moshtache Records / Dead Chemists Records