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A Masochistic Delight - 80%

Moth, December 30th, 2005

When trying to describe this album, three words always come to mind: schizophrenia, claustrophobia, and masochism.

Some may dismiss this album as horribly digital, uninspired drivel aimed merely at holding the title for the band of the fastest drum machine. This description may be accurate , but this album shouldn't be dismissed so quickly. Some albums can be enjoyed for reasons other than the artist's intentions.

The production on this album is as claustrophobic as it is disgustinly digital. To put it bluntly, no album has ever succeeded in giving me such an incredible headache every time I listen to it. The guitars are reduced to blistering treble fuzz that seems to literally pummel the ear drums. The vocals are also reduced to treble fuzz through the ridiculous effects layers that filter them. No human tones remain, it's kind of like Malefic's vocals but more annoying. Everything may seem pretty bad up to now, but the drums are by far the worst part. Cryfemal uses a drum machine of the shittiest samples possible and turns the blast up to about 360 bpm while alternating the cymbals like every other measure. However, the very worst part is the incessant tom fills which aren't even decipherable aside from this horrible bass-end maxing out of the sound system, which in conjunction with the treble overload makes all frequencies of your hearing turn to mush within a few minutes. Everything on the album seems to be constantly skipping since it's all maxing out at the same time. I'm listening to it right now and it's really making me naseous.

Of course, the production alone doesn't contribute to the insanity of this album. The riffs are constantly tremolo picked guitars at incredible speeds, changing frets about every eighth note, and usually on the higher strings. Cryfemal uses completely atonal melodies on these riffs, but sometimes alternates to drawn out chords that resemble a normal melody. However, these moments are just to provide a contrast to the next assault on the listener's nerves as they shift back into the upper range tremolo riffs. Sometimes they'll also do some fast "metal" sounding riffs incorporating palm muting, which also maxes out the low end in addition to the drum fills. Many riffs sound really similar to another riff two or so songs back, causing the listener to wonder whether the same song is being repeated or dementia is prevailing. The vocals, high speed riffs, and blasting drums are pretty much nonstop throughout the entire album, so savor the intro while it lasts. After that, your only hope is gradually turning the volume down, or standing firm, in which case your most neurotic and obsessive tendencies will dominate for hours after the album ends. Basically, this album is like the latent effects of a shot of meth.

If you are one who doesn't enjoy self-mutilation or other masochisms to any degree, steer clear of this, you'll never appreciate it. If you are, you still probably won't appreciate it, but at least it's a novelty to add to the collection. This album is one of those rare anomolies that nothing comes close to and nobody would ever want to come close to. I forgot the guy's name who drives this group, but he's certainly a case, to say the least. If it still sounds at all appealing, give it a try, and you may be one of the few who can enjoy its sickness on some levels.