Imagine a butcher in Sickville. A hideous, demented man who exumes dead bodies. He ritually desecrates graves, takes the putrified remains of freshly buried carcasses and cuts them up into slabs of raw human meat. This posthumous surgery is performed with his rusty old cleaver and is sold to vicious cannibals of his own abominable race of subhumans. Now imagine all this in an aural (and lyrical) context and you'll have a pretty good idea of what early Carcass is like. The butchering starts with the production, which is abysmal. Which also makes it just right for this CD! Our butcher wouldn't distribute rotten corpses in ribbon-clad velvet-coated jewelery boxes, now would he? Muddy production makes the hideous delivery that much more evil. The guitars keep churning out insanely brutal powerchords - impossible to discern most of the time, but then who wants to? They're like the slabs of meat - just too heavy and extreme to actually make any difference in terms of minute details. Jeff Walker sounds like the mad butcher after you with his cleaver swinging in the air and a twisted grin on his face. His rasps are coupled with Bill Steer's low grunts, which is the sound of the butcher letting out occasional burps (after having consumed his own art, no doubt!); interesting "duets" are "sung" in this way. The entire effect is like having a drill operating right next to your ear - though it is a relentless wall of sound, it is very interestingly done, and the riffs and spooky little "interludes" ensure that no track gets boring. "Reek of Putrefaction", "Exume to Consume" and "Ruptured in Purulence" are standouts; "Ruptured in Purulence" has one of my favourite intros of all time. All instruments are rather "imprecisely" played - the drumming is incredibly fast and keeps time well, but isnt exactly the Trym Torson or Mike Smith (i.e. precise-to-the-millisecond) type. This, of course, is a part of this album's charm. A very unique atmosphere is created - one of sickness, no doubt, but also of deliberate humour.

Of course, how can I not mention the lyrics? They are sicker than Cannibal Corpses' - too sick to be offensive (to females or whoever) or to be taken seriously. Besides, they consist of words incompherensible to non-psychopathic non-doctors. The fact that all band members vegetarians makes it even funnier and more ironic.

This is sick, ugly music - no one claims otherwise. But I enjoy it, as do many others I know. It is basically a matter of getting used to the sheer brutality and finding the meaning in the mass of sounds. There is plenty of meaning to be found - it is a matter of actively seeking it as opposed to it drawing you in the form of catchy one-liners (Mmm-bop!!!). And that, precisely, is what makes it so much more rewarding.

Review by Rahul Joshi

Review date: 02/1999

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Grindcore legends turned death-rock, this album heralds the beginning of their end. Mid-paced rocky (catchy!) thrash that only obscurely hints to their earlier brutality, but is still a somewhat enjoyable listen.

It's Jeff Walker doing the vocals exclusively, and he has one of the most powerful voices in death metal today. Not the gutteral growl typified by Benton or Mullen, but a part black-metal rasp with a slightly nasal delivery. He creates some really great patterns and his natural lilt is specially suited to this sort of vocals. As a pleasant sub-consequence, we're saved from hearing Steer's terrible belches and farts that he somehow manages to make with his throat. Lyrics are no longer the sick and technical gore anthems; instead, we get observations on society and some interesting insights into aesthetics and religion - expressed quite eloquently, I must say. The drums are precise as ever, Owen being one of the great single-foot blasters from the early days of grind. The bass drums have a slightly "clicky" sound to them, and the production in general is not too bass-heavy.

The juxtaposition of brutal grind-like rhythms and open, accessible melody is best exemplified by the title track, where the band goes from a great harmonised melody to a blast+power-chord bowel-churn. Riffs are mostly thrashy heavy metal riffs with definite rock and blues influences. Excellent use of pinch harmonics on this CD and very interesting arrangements all over the place. The solos are inserted in generous amounts at just the right places. These too, interestingly, borrow from two seemingly diametrically opposed schools: bluesy bends and slides, and then sudden flurries of sweeps unmistakably neoclassical. And, mind you, this is no aimless vacillation or identity crisis: these guys are technically gifted and know just what to do with a guitar. Too bad they're not as interesting as they once were.

This is not as terrible as some fanatic early-Carcass worshippers might lead you to believe, but don't listen to that Slaughter of the Soul and Dusk...and Her Embrace fan either. It is a moderately enjoyable album, but prepare to be severely disappointed if you are a grind fan. In fact, in that case, don't bother with this at all. I guess in the name of "progression", other bands that we used to love have committed far worse musical atrocities, so this is an ironic redemption from Carcass from my point of view. But if you've never heard this band before, definitely pick this up. It might not be representative of their career, but is Carcass at their most accessible.

Review by Rahul Joshi

Review date: 04/1999

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Sometimes I think bands deliberately release albums to see exactly how many people are listening to the music rather than feed external expectations of what fans think the band is supposed to be doing. In Carcass' case, their swing from extreme gurgle to actual rock-n-roll context songs baffled and alienated a huge portion of their fanbase. And yet at the same time, did people actually listen to the music? Sure, this is basically rock influenced riff o rama with the only remaining thread to their roots being the death vocals, but it's pretty darned good. The riffs just ooze catchiness and quality, the same way all good rock bands can make guitar riffs speak so loudly. A song like "Keep On Rotting in the Free World" (not a take on Neil Young) is so well written that you will remember it and you will enjoy it. Carcass proves that you don't have to always push the envelope to ridiculous extremes simply to be worthy. Chances are if this album had been released under a different band name, people would not have criticized it one iota. Just another example of how fan prejudice can be destructive.

Review by John Chedsey

Review date: 04/1999

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