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Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis are one of those bands who have become more famous for their name than anything else. This is quite a shame, considering the band have conceived some of the most utterly repulsive and disgusting music to ever have seen the light of day. I'm honestly astonished that mere mortal humans were able to create something like this.
As I mentioned before, the band is absolutely filthy. In a few ways, this album is even dirtier than Enmity and their album Illuminations of Vile Engorgement, because at least Enmity can keep up a general sense of unified rhythm throughout their work - it's filthy, but it feels like it was meant to be that way. On the other hand, throughout Satyriasis and Nymphomania, the listener gets the feeling that Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis were aiming for something a lot more tame, but failed to accomplish that goal either through a lack of musical ability or demonic possession. The end result feels like a twisted monster - something that was never meant to get past titanium laboratory doors, but somehow managed to break free and wreak havok on the world.
And quite an atrocity the album is. The first thing the listener hears upon playing the intro "Toward the Apocalipsex" is a movie sample probably from some Mexican horror film with a cult following somewhere. A dark atmosphere and screams off in the distance fade away to an acoustic passage. It's almost as if the album itself is the musical equivalent of a horror movie, with the sampled screams there to preview what is to come, and the acoustic riff being the calm before the storm - reaffirming docility before crushing it to pieces again. By the second track (nah, I'm not even going to copy-paste the whole name), more samples pop up, and about a minute in... it begins. The music comes in rather abruptly and refuses to give the listener any breathing room at all. The guitar tone, while relatively clean for goregrind standards, is heavy as a brick. When not performing a groovy pornogrind section or the occasional slam, the guitars are most likely to be found weedling on the higher strings, producing a series of seemingly-random notes and creating an atmosphere of total insanity alongside blast beats. The drummer is just as sloppy as Waking the Cadaver's, if not sloppier, never managing to keep in time with the guitars or vocals during the blasts. In a way I'd say this improves the music, since there's no logical reason for the band to try to adhere to any musical standard at this point in their formula; they might as well just add the drums to the list of quirky demented shit on the album.
I'd say the vocals are one of the most defining elements of this album. Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis's vocals, in terms of pure vocal style, are pretty run-of-the-mill in the world of goregrind; but it's the way that they're used which gives the album the spirit of every cheap exploitation film ever. As a result of poor mixing skills, the band's vocals overlap the guitar tracks instead of existing above them. Considering the fact that the majority of these vocals are basically a more growl-centric Rompeprop (as opposed to the pitchshifted yell that that band tends to use), this gives the guitars the illusion of an echoing low end and it sounds absolutely amazing. Just as commendable are the occasional wet, rasping screams used by Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis, which sound even more inhuman than most goregrind bands, were that even possible.
A big part of Satyriasis and Nymphomania's length is comprised of movie samples, probably even more than there are on the more well-known Erotic Diarrhea Fantasy by Torsofuck. I personally thought the samples were the nadir of that album, but they work very well in Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis's case. As I said, the album is practically a horror movie in sonic form: calm moments, foreshadowing movie samples, and musical grotesqueries, repeated in that order as needed to complete a full-length album. Torsofuck's clips don't work because quite frankly they have no atmosphere or context - it's stupid thuggish music that doesn't serve much purpose beyond creating a noisewall, and as such doesn't really need samples. On Satyriasis and Nymphomania, however, the samples are just as sloppy and grotesque as the music surrounding it, and it meshes and flows just like any normal album should... hell, it almost flows better than the average album. The intro and outro are a bit unnecessary, however - the acoustic passages are a bit annoying, especially the one in the outro. I'd have preferred it if the band had used their goregrind material as the last actual music the listener hears before a short movie sample ends the album. On the other hand, it's a relatively minor flaw in the grand scheme of things, and while it refuses the album a sense of closure, the music contained within is still godly.
Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis are absolute trash, and I mean that in the best possible way. I honestly wish there were more goregrind bands this demented, but most people who grow up to create music like this sadly commit suicide by gunshot in their teen years, or get arrested for bashing their parents' faces in. I guess that leaves this band in a class of their own. Satyriasis and Nymphomania is a distinctive, atmospheric and unique goregrind album, and while very few people will actually find it enjoyable, those who do will most likely find it to be one of the best releases to ever come out of the heavier spectrum of death metal.
You know what they do over there in Mexico? They cut people's heads off, yes, but more importantly, they create the most disgusting goregrind imaginable. Somehow, I don't think that this type of filth could have been produced anywhere else on Earth. I don't know what it is, but this particular nadir of nauseation is simply inimitable, fittingly indigenous to one of the most violent countries in The Americas. Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis is the perfect manifestation of Mexican goregrind, ousting Hipermenorrea and Disgorge to be hailed as the sickest of the sick, the most wretched of the wretched, indeed the very depths of depravity in its physical form.
Satyriasis and Nymphomania's intro, "Toward The Apocalipsex", really forbodes the feeling of dread as, as I like to imagine, I'm having a nightmare about walking through a dimly lit hospital ward. I'm alone, and the only thing I can hear is... chewing. Loud, wet, ravenous chewing in the distance. There's blood everywhere, splattered all over the puke green walls, resulting in a pallete ever more so repulsive. It seems a body was dragged along the path I'm venturing, as evidenced by the tell tale trail of viscera strewn about the floor. It's funny how you never realize how long human intestines really are until you've seen them stretched out to their moribund lengths, guiding you. I'm not going to write a horror novel here and now, but I think you get the point, dear readers. It's just a basic little acoustic melody, but it has an eeriness that I can compare to music from an early Resident Evil game. I normally loathe purely introductoy tracks, but this one works. The nightmare's just begun.
Hearing the following song, "Uroporfironogenodescarboxilandome...", is like a papal bull from the Surgical Lord himself: "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your eternity; Welcome... to Hell." The first thing you'll inevitably notice is the production. Boy oh boy, is this putrid. The instruments blend together into one big malignant mass of mucopurulency, chirurgically churning your bowels into mush. Seriously, I can't listen to this while eating, lest I feel like puking my guts out. Once I got past the enmitous feeling en mi estómago, I was in goddamned goregrind heaven. All the surgical sickness I ever wanted, all the depraved atmosphere I could handle, all the grinding brutality, it was all here. It was all right here, every ingredient to the perfect goregrind album. I can barely make out a note the guitarists are playing, and that's the way it should be. It's just noise. Just sickening, stomach turning noise. If you need a little melody in your goregrind to feel safe, I suggest you stop reading this right now and clutch onto your Exhumed and Impaled records as if they were cuddly stuffed animals. While I'm on the subject, don't forget to turn your nitelite on and check under the bed for monsters. Anyway, all I got from the guitar and bass was tremelo, chug, chug, tremelo, chug, etc. Thank fuck for that, because the ambiguity is what makes this album so frightening. The drumming is sloppier than my imaginary vagina, like the drummer was being jerked off while he was playing. There's no discernable rhythm whatsoever, with blasts and chugs just kind of ejaculating all over the place. There's no cleanup afterwards, either, as the indecipherable blasts just keep coming at you like a pack of bloodthirsty zombies.
The vocals deserve their own paragraph. Ugh. These are some of the most vomit inducing retches ever recorded, and I mean that in the best possible way. This guy may as well be gurgling in pain on an operating table as a doctor incises his larynx with a rusty scalpel. I mean, mother of fuck, these are painful. There's no grindcore screeching bullshit, which I'm thankful for. It may have worked for Nasum and Hemdale, but for Paracocci, nonstop gurgles is the most sadistic thing the doctor could have possibly ordered. Oh, I love it. I absolutely fucking love it.
On the samples: They increase the perverse atmosphere of the music and are used pretty much perfectly. They're spread parsimoniously as each song's own little intro. What you'll generally hear is, on average, about a minute of people screaming in the distance. People suffering, people hurting, people dying. I tell you, it just doesn't get any lower that this. Paracocci first spreads the joy of suffering and then, just as you can't take it anymore, does you the favor of making it even worse when the music kicks in. How nice of them. The longest sample is in "Putridexpulsion Diphyllobothrium of the Vaginal Cavity", which in its entirety is a man degrading a woman over the phone, telling her to taste her pussy juice soaked panties. These people are fucked up. God, I love it.
I already professed how much respect I have for these guys in the Mexican scene, so how do they stack up against other goregrinders in general? Let me put it this way, if early Carcass is RL Stine, Paracocci is Stephen King. Make no mistake, this is sick music for sick fucks, incarnated by the very sickest of minds and not many people can handle it. In my opinion, this is the greatest goregrind album ever made, every track being one succulent slab of rotted meat after another. Proceed with caution, girls.
My first review to “Satyriasis and Nymphomania” was not exactly good, as it lacked the very elements that make a review valid. I do have my excuses, though: I was not familiar enough with goregrind, which turned most of my statements into generic sentences that barely managed to compare the recording with other goregrind albums. However, after listening to more Cock and Ball Torture than my sanity allows, I am sure that the way I see this album has not changed at all, even though I do take some of my statements back.
First, I once said that this was not music, and that sentence needs to be reformulated. This IS music, but it is not particularly good. There is no progression, no professionalism and no dedication at all – all it has is shock value for shock value’s sake, an amusing title and thirty minutes of retarded improvising. Some would say that this is an attempt to torture the listener, but it does not get any better with that in mind. There are no tortured screams, no deviant images that suddenly appear in your mind (with the exception of the cover art, of course) and not anything that would leave any sensation that is not boredom.
Everything here, from the production to the musicianship, sucks badly, and when I say badly I really mean it. You could try that yourself, really: take some strings from that twenty-years old bass that your uncle stored in a random closet, attach them to a guitar (while leaving two guitar strings on, of course) , downtune some of them, tie a microphone to the guitar, connect the microphone to your PC, set your Abletom Live’s distortion to max and improvise something. Congratulations, that is just how this band wants the drums to sound like. Everything seems to follow a different beat, and the vocals (that are pitch-shifted for most of the recording) are a mix between poor attempts at inhales and growls that would make Johan Hegg ashamed of death metal as a whole.
I usually talk about some individual songs in my reviews, but I don't see the need to do so here, as the band doesn’t make any effort in order to make one track distinguishable from the other. The entire album is the same bullshit, and unless you realize that every track has it's own terrible, atmospheric (err, not at all) introduction, it's actually difficult to tell that one song is over and the other one is starting. When I first listened to this recording, I stopped at the seventh track. However, I listened to it until the end this time, and believe me when I say that while the title track makes you laugh a little, everything else is pretty much the same. I would rather stick to Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis’ second full-length, since we get to see some hints of actual songwriting there, while in this one there are none. For you to have an idea, this album has an acoustic introduction, but the band somehow manages to make it boring and extremely long.
Well, don't buy this. If these guys are just fucking around, I am a proud enemy of what this band stands for. If the metalheads that like grindcore a lot like these guys (which is probably not the case, I mean, look at the other reviews), I am a proud enemy of what grindcore stands for. Wow, if Carcass knew that this kind of band would appear in the goregrind scene, they would kill themselves before creating the genre.
Okay, let's get one thing straight, Paracoccidiodomicosisproctitissarcomucosis (fuck pi, see how many digits of THAT you can memorize!) are a very, very good grind band. Here they demonstrate just how fucking brilliant they are at playing grimey, fucked up, sick, twisted goregrind with tons of variation, venomous vocals, crazy structures with tons of random tempo changes and a whole fuckload of atmosphere. Sure, I don't deny this. This album examplifies some of the best goregrind I've ever heard, rivalled only by Reek of Putrefaction in terms of everything mentioned above.
So what's the problem then? I'll tell you what the problem is. The flow of this album is totally ruined by the overly-long samples of ambience and groaning sounds that introduce each track. Of course, this is extreme metal, and I don't really complain about this when listening to Mortician or The Berzerker, right? Well, that's right, but the samples tend to last maybe 10 seconds, tops. Most of the tracks on 'Satyriasis and Nymphomania', however, have roughly a minute of dumb 'atmospheric' sound effects to begin each track. Infact, the shortest intro is thirty seconds long, and the longest one stretches out for nearly two full minutes. It's not AS bad in the longer tracks (which are, for reference, tracks 2, 5 and 9) as you get a minute of weird ambience and then four minutes of skull-fucking, baby-eating goregrind, but it still completely ruins the flow. Imagine how annoying it is on the shorter tracks, featuring a minute of eerie sounds and thirty seconds of grind. And then of course we also have the album intro and outro, which are pretty much the same as the intro tracks except they feature some pointless acoustic guitar pluckings and the same dumb moaning sounds. I can see what they were going for, and the minimal, minor ambience does sound creepy with the distant sexual groaning in the background, but really, it doesn't belong on a grind album, especially one as fucked up and wretched as this. It completely ruins the flow of what would other wise be brilliant goregrind well worthy of a much higher rating.
The grind here is really good, as in all fairness there is more grind than there is ambience, but let's be realistic, you can't expect this to rule when over a quarter of it is made up of boring 'spooky' samples. I guess they wanted to be atmospheric, but someone should have told them that the goregrind they play is already atmospheric enough. I've made an edit of this album, it's roughly 24 minutes long and contains no ambient stuff whatsoever and it's much, much more consistant, and I'd give that little edit a 94% rating in terms of musical quality, but unfortunately that is listed to one copy, so I'd advise readers to make their own edit of this album, it saves time and doesn't feature annoying interruptions. Imagine television without commercials. Otherwise, I can only rate the album as it is at a mere fifty, and I know that's a bit unfair seeing as how the grind outweighs the ambience, but the flow of the grind is ruined by the samples, so that makes me detract from the score also. This is definately worth owning, but do yourself a favour and edit it into an all grind version - now THAT is highly recommended.
I wanted to like this band. Live, their vocals are impressive as far as inhales go. The name is amusing at a glance, and Mexican goregrind isn't something I come across too often. So I obtain this album with high hopes... and was I ever let down.
The entire album is sloppy, and not in an effective way like some grindcore or black metal. The drums (which sound programmed to me, or at least triggered as fuck) are very rarely on the guitars. The guitar distortion is thin, weak and cartoony (classic symptom of many bedroom goregrind projects) and the bass is inaudible. I highly doubt the vocalists are pronouncing any syllables (another shitty goregrind symptom), rather just letting long streams of "Ooooooooooooo" and "Eeeeeeeeeeeeee" sounds out.
The samples are excessive and stereotypical. Almost all of the samples are women moaning or other sounds of sex, and they are far too long. I swear, the samples feel longer than the track. Sometimes, a sample can be used well in setting up a track. They can also be used mid-song to establish some atmosphere or give a break in action to increase dramatic effect. This band does none of this. They simple fulfilled the obligatory moan sample for a shitty goregrind band.
This band is utterly stereotypical goregrind, and aren't even very good at being that. I give them 5 out of 100 for producing a full album, 5 for being something more tolerable than nu-metal or rock or something, and 15 because the opening and closing acoustic/clean channel tracks are actually kind of nice.
Seriously, if you get past the novelty of their name, Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis is one of the best things that's happened to goregrind in years. Even though they started in, you know 1999. It doesn't feel that long though! If 'Satyriasis And Nymphomania' came out yesterday, it would be just as relevant as it was back in 2002, because it truly is a pretty pivotal return (or perhaps progression) to what goregrind really SHOULD be: raw, sloppy, atmospheric, demented, and utterly antisocial.
Although numerous people would disagree with me, I've never thought that Carcass should be the template for goregrind. I mean, the music's good and all, but there's too much humor, too much shock value for shock value's sake; it feels overly 'human' in a lot of ways. Unfair, maybe, but that's how I feel. This music, though, is what I feel the very base of goregrind should be based off of. If 'Satyriasis And Nymphomania' was the album that started goregrind, the genre would be in a thousand times better condition than it currently is. It's truly fucking great music on a LOT of levels.
This album is great because it's completely unmusical. This music is a fucking mess structurally. All the songs on this album are so awkward and bizarre that they must be at least partially improvised. I've never heard an album that sounds like this, being so utterly sloppy, yet so undeniably MALEVOLENT. That, in essence, is what Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis has over nearly every other goregrind band: this truly antihuman feeling. Where Carcass had a goal behind their imagery and choice of lyrics, this Mexican trio seems to do it out of some sort of spite towards everything that could be possibly deemed 'normal'. Even the bleary, reddened artwork that graces this disc seems to have been selected with a special purpose. Carcass' gore collage might have shocked some with weaker hearts, but was more of an amusing artistic piece. This, on the other hand, is just an unflinching look at utter gore. Even the hastily pasted logo and title fit the imagery: no emphasis placed on professionalism at all, just on making a total package that's as horrible as possible.
Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis can not be compared in style, musically, to anyone else. They play a completely sloppy and haphazard form of goregrind, with strange, abstractly horrifying tremolo riffing and sludgy, atonal chord structures taking precedence over any normal grind riffs. Drumming is barely held together with ultra-fast but quickly fading blast beats and double bass exploding into completely random fills at the end of 'melodic' phrases. Vocals might be pitch-shifted; who the fuck knows. They gurgle and occasionally gurgle at a higher pitch with no logical or definable rhythm. The song structures are the complete antithesis of verse-chorus; they seem almost to be made up as they go along. A section is never repeated later on in the song; a riff just gets played out and discarded while the band tanks on over to something else. The rehearsal room sort of sound helps it sound so great: clicking, sloppy drums, very distorted guitar, and vocals that seem to be purring right into your ear. Uncomfortable, just like it should be.
Really though, this all comes down to the mood, which is singularly evil. A lot of goregrind bands describe various terrible thing perpetrated on unsuspecting victims, but few put you right in the fucking abattoir and make you face it. The music lurches forward almost distastefully, like you want to take a moment to catch your breath before continuing, but the songs just continue spiraling out of control and subjecting you to more and more deviant images. Think of it as the gurney scene from 'Jacob's Ladder': it's bad enough when it starts, but it just keeps getting worse and worse as it goes on. Until, finally, a track ends; then another Spanish horror sample fades in, and finally, another long, winding track of goregrinding madness begins. This is an album that really peers right into the cavern of blood and fear without ever flinching away, bookended by two bizarrely gentle clean guitar pieces. It's a nightmare in musical form that HAS to be heard to be believed. Fucking genius, all around. Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis was never this good again, but this stands as the crowning achievement of one of modern goregrind's true greats.