Slam Another One Back

I spent the weekend listening to Now That’s What I Call Slam, a Metal Inquisition joint/Invisible Oranges production (mix-taaape!). I had almost completely forgotten how much fun I used to have listening to this stuff! When I was like 15 or 16, going to local metal shows to watch my friends’ bands play, it seemed like the only kind of death metal anybody played around the Boston area was of the slammy persuasion. In recent years, I just kind of assumed that nobody really played it anymore, but this mix was brutally pleasant reminder that it exists.

Yeah, it’s tough to tell bands, let alone songs, apart, but the style has some really endearing qualities that, I think, stand up well against more modern interpretations of death metal, like deathcore or needly tech-death. The pacing is much better—that is, it’s possible to listen to this stuff for an extended period of time without ear fatigue (shit, I’m tired of After the Burial after (hah) two minutes). Maybe it’s just because I’m so tired of the current trend, but 85 percent of the time, I’d rather listen to a slam over a breakdown and an effects-laden gutteral belch over a effects-laden scream-whine.

Here are some select slabs of early-2000s Boston-area slam I found buried within my iTunes. Both are pretty good!

Terminally Your Aborted Ghost – Open Concave Chest Wounds

Dysentery – Baptized in Disbelief

There’s a certain warts-and-all charm that comes along with all low-budget recordings; in this case, it’s the sound of max-gained guitars played through shitty amps with the clamor of hollow piccolo snares, wet kick drums and ice-bell cymbals all around it. Even the bands with drum machines, like Putrid Pile, manage to sound more alive than some of the Sumeriancore bands with real drummers, like Born of Osiris.

Maybe I’m just being nostalgic and having a case of selective memory, but slam feels like a grassroots thing for dudes who would be into hardcore but like drugs and Devourment. It’s a small niche with, really, no ability (or need) to grow. Kill babies!

~ Liam

It’s Your Cryptic Warning

So Revocation’s Existence is Futile comes out today, and a) it’s great and b) I’m really happy for these dudes. I went to school with them (Buda used to rock Tesla t-shirts in the hallways), and little did anybody know until Decibel blew up their spot this month, they formed waaaay back in 2000 (the summer between 8th and 9th grade for them) as Cryptic Warning. They were gracious enough to let my shitty first band hop onto one of their shows in a church basement in the Roslindale neighborhood of Boston in the fall of 2002. Even back then, it was easy to tell that they were better than all the bands in that mini “scene” going on (Ravage suuuucks!).

I present, for your listening pleasure, Cryptic Warning’s very first demo:

Cryptic Warning – Snakestrike (This was a big fan favorite back in the day)

Cryptic Warning – Chainsaw Sacrifice Ritual

Cryptic Warning – Charred Earth

For a trio of 15-year-old kids, this ain’t bad at all. A few things stick out comparing Existence is Futile to this relic: Dave Davidson (so nice, they named him twice) developed his Dimebag/Mustaine-ish rhythm style very early on, Buda’s bass playing has always had a Dark Angel-vibe to it, and Phil always loved his cymbals.

They pulled a Hellhammer and changed their name in May 2006 because a) their chops and songwriting skills had improved immensely, and if I remember correctly, b) some far less-worthy band from Pennsylvania with the same name kept giving them shit. Whatever they call themselves, I’m psyched that these guys stuck with it.

~ Liam