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Glut-ten free! - 70%

UCTYKAH, October 4th, 2013

If I were asked to characterize this disc in as few words as possible, I'd simply say - "it flows". Yup, flow it does. I do feel that the pacing of this album is really beneficial to the listening experience. And I say this about a work by a band that utilizes a very much tried-and-true grind (or death-grind, which is what GLUT! play here) formula, be it the meaty riffing, unadulterated blasting, only relatively diverse vocalizing and the introductory spoken samples. Somehow, these guys grab their unalloyed furnishings, run with them and, at the very least, do not fall on their asses. What a miracle!

I will admit that I do have a tiny soft spot for some Spaniard grind done in Spanish (Machetazo, Denak come to mind...and I even secretly harbor wishes for Haemorrhage (Spa) to lay down some tracks in their mother tongue). In this department GLUT! deliver quite an overkill, albeit not an unpleasant one, with their never-ending, inserted stream of robust, nearly harmonious monologues en Espanol. Plentiful samples in grind records, as widespread as they are, rarely enhance the actual movement of the music, other than offer some down time away from brutality. Here, it works almost as an instrument of dynamics for music that strides ahead straightforwardly much more often than it does not.

Amidst all the patter, the band deliver their grind action rather efficiently if very uniformly, keeping the tracks' lengths at no more than a minute on average and inflating them to double the size only on the disc's final third. Stylistically, GLUT! simply maintain their compact death metal derived base and worry not about the rest. At this juncture, a healthy production job and organically delivered and captured vocal performance do come in handy and bring positive contribution to the overall heartbeat of the record. Neither do these guys care much for appearing progressive or strange and, thus, do not bother with taking themselves for a ride. There is some amusing goofing-off that does take place on the fully sampled "Rodeado de Suecas", matched by arguably overwrought, but considerably unusual for this kind of environment, seven minute long coda "Anal/Fabeto".

Musically, there is not a whole lot of rhythmic variation or string histrionics in place. A few punkish beats ("Nuestra Senora de la Ansiada Dosis" and "Mi Trabajo de Mierda") are thrown out for free consumption, alongside a couple of trampling crawlers ("Silvia Saint que Estas en Los Cielos", the second half of "Yo Fui un Adolescente Modernino..."). Otherwise, the band's axe man keeps tradition close to his heart and allows his creative impulses to take over only under rigidly selective, momentous circumstances, with the most visible and prolonged of which being the effect-ridden solo run of "Colgado dos Juevos..." and modulating riff movement of "Medio Perro". Whatever else is out there, if anything, you pretty much have to hunt for, if you care enough, by paying a little bit of attention instead of triumphantly head banging away.

What truly stands out in this set up are several contrastingly moody, slowmo instrumental excursions, notably bluesy in nature, that the band disseminate throughout the album. These make their appearance early enough, on tracks "Violada por un Caniche Retrasado" and "Viviendo su Pequeno Melrose Place", resonate effectively next to the expected musical barrage and then return almost at the very end with "Obispo Corrupto". Pretty cool it is, though still not enough to explain exactly why I think "Trastorno Depresivo Perpetuo" stands out among the rest. It sort of does and it does not at the same time. It is not a bleeping corker, mind you, but works quite well within its realm. All I can really say is that it achieves its goals less through its music (make no mistake, these guys are not amateurs and know how to chop up their meat tightly, but we are talking grind here) but through comprehensive, integrated fluidity of their more than common elements. This shit just blends together well, in other words. In tunneled, oversaturated neighborhoods like our Land of the Grind, this holding action probably cannot be a bad thing.