Dissect, Molest, Ingest

Sometimes a duck needs to be called a duck, particularly if it tends to be regarded as something different by the world at large. Granted, insofar as UK purveyors of cliche brutality Amputated are concerned, they've been fairly forthcoming about their undying devotion of Cannibal Corpse, or at least Daryl Barrett-Cross has been since he's the only founding member still in congress at this point. My familiarity with this outfit's previous work is a bit limited so I can't fully speak to their alleged slam or grindcore credentials (something attributed to them by various 3rd parties, including the BBC, but that's a whole other story) in the past, but Dissect, Molest, Ingest is not exactly something that deserves the additional genre description of "brutal", unless we're going to do the same with Gallery Of Suicide and Gore Obsessed are in the same league as a typical Dying Fetus or Mortician album.

It's not an uncommon thing for a death metal band to emulate an iconic, formative pioneer in the style such as Cannibal Corpse, and it often can lead to pleasing results. So why not in this case? Much like pruning a tree, when it comes to amputating limbs, it's not what you cut it's also what you don't cut. The one thing that usually saves an old school approach to death metal from morphing into an exercise in sheer monotony is technical flair and a willingness to revisit the thrash territory of those bygone 80s bands that knew how to vary the arrangement. Amputation's approach here does the complete opposite and insists on approaching old school death metal in the way a slam band might, but completely dumbing down an already simple formula and laying on the breakdowns. Don't expect any guitar shredding fun in the post-Kerry King mold or any of the other pieces of sweetness that go with an orthodox approach, but expect plenty of dumb ass 2 and 3 note chug riffs under the guise of a slow section as the vocalist swallows both the microphone and the entire arrangement with a woefully contrived aping of Corpsegrinder with maybe a slight hint of Lord Worm.

To be fair, more than half of the riffs heard on this entire album are reminiscent of the stylistic trappings of early 90s Cannibal Corpse at their creative height, as several ideas here sound like they could have come directly out of the Tomb Of The Mutilated playbook. Likewise, the guitar sound is a bit more crunchy and meaty, though in more of the mold of CC after Scott Burns had ceased in being involved in their production. The problem is that this is where the similarities with the real thing tend to end, as the drum work and vocals tend to completely override much of what is going on, which isn't terribly much. The drummer is definitely up to the task of bludgeoning up the kit in a manner that's actually not too far away from the insanity that Flo Mounier was pulling off on Blasphemy Made Flesh, but firing off the machine guns doesn't a great album make, or even a good one for that matter.

In retrospect, there might be something to the "brutal" label attributed to this band since they tend to butcher the classic influences they adopted in roughly the same manner as a number of other millennial acts, though the resulting sound doesn't really end up in the same sonic league as most of those bands. Ultimately, Dissect, Molest, Ingest is more like a really bad tribute album with a band consisting of two hack guitarists who might as well be the same guy given that there is very little going on to justify the other being there, a vocalist with very little identity of his own, a bassist who rarely makes his presence known, and yet another drummer who thinks he's a one man band. Some vegans choose to eat their veggies because they are abhorred by the sort of violence depicted in this album, but this might bring about a few more additions to said clique simply by taking the excitement out of the kill.

I signed up for this review partly through being somewhat acquainted with British brutal death metallers Amputated's back catalogue, but predominantly through a rememberance of their hilarious involvement in a BBC musical collaboration program from a few years back (go watch now if you have never seen it) which sadly confirmed many of the negative stereotypes about (extreme) metal music and it's practitioners. So, yes, I arrived at the Bristolian five pieces' third album, "Dissect, Molest, Ingest", with a negative mindset that has subsequently not changed in the numerous listens I've given.

In truth the album is not actually as bad as I first feared, although there is no doubt that almost everything I look for in metal, whether it be the more extreme or classic-orientated variants, is missing in today's world of brutal DM. I have been branded an unworthy critic in levelling such critiques against the genre in the past, an accusation which insinuates those who idolise gore-obsessed, misogynistic, guttural, monotone death metal ONLY will appreciate this and well, if that's the case I'm happy to be on the outside. But enough with the scene politics. Opener "Body of Work" fittingly sets the scene with clippings of news reports detailing cases of rape and murder patched together before "Gorging on Putrid Discharge" bludgeons into view with a bass-heavy rhythm riff taking the song through a mid-speed outing with plenty of chug and guitar squeal in it's latter sections to entertain the pit posse. "The Local Flavour" gets into gear with a plethora of inhumane gravity blasts backing the saturation of Mark Gleed's guttural growls and the shifting chord patterns of Daryl Barrett-Cross and Kai Cursons, but as quickly becomes apparent through the progression of the album there is very little to differentiate this from one song to the next. The odd riff stands out from the pack - I'm thinking of one apiece in "Skullfuck Lobotomy", "Six Feet Deep" and "Toolbox Abortionist" while some touches of groove exist here and there - but 90% of the lot are so lacking in imagination and artistic merit that just making it through the album's 34 minutes becomes a serious challenge.

The production on "Dissect, Molest, Ingest" is well-suited to the job at hand, giving a clarity to the layer of guitars, a healthy punch to Harry Jewel's bass, a clinical sterility to Gareth Arlett on drums and the gurgling and snarling vocals but in doing so it simples accentuates the fact there are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of bands worldwide peddling this kind of material, all merrily singing ditties like "I defile every orifice/ Trying to scream with her last breath as I slowly fuck her to death/ She dies like so many others, bleeding, with my cock in her anus" ("When Whores Meet Saws") in a vacuous display of brutal indulgence, mindfully oblivious to the offering of anything new to the genre or even simply the appearance of emotion and feeling in their performances. While not squarely aimed at "Dissect, Molest, Ingest", for I have heard much worse, but I wish to accuse gore-laden brutal death metal in general that all efforts in appropriating the most extreme possible sound and image, in a day when this stuff simply does not shock like metal did in the 80s, have reduced the genre to a simmering cesspit of soulless, spiritually bankrupt acts giving a bad name to the legions of extreme metal bands who take a considered and upstanding approach to their works and over whom I would not shed a tear if tomorrow was their last day. Or, perhaps, I'm just an cynical old metal bastard who sets the bar too high for my daily dose of extreme metal...

Originally written for www.Rockfreaks.net

England's Amputated is a band which, in the past, struck me as having a lot of positive traits for brutal death metal without ending up particularly memorable on the whole. Wading Through Rancid Offal, for example, had one of the better cover artworks in the entire niche, impressive production standards, fun song titles, samples to make the squeamish squeam, and no shortage of musical competence and aggression, but with all that...it just fell short of resonating with me. Hell, this band also had an album called Gargling With Infected Semen, so naturally I feel compelled to root for them regardless of the outcome, and I'm elated to report that the third time out, Amputated has finally turned that last corner to create something with a lot more replay value.

No, they haven't added a heap of melodies or catchy choruses in there, this is still largely in a gestational period between mid-90s Cannibal Corpse and more contemporary brutal/slamming death metal; you've got a lot of chugging-based riff progressions peppered with squeals and trills, and contrasted deep guttural and grisly snarl vocals weaving a trail of eviscerated flesh together. But, like another UK band I've been admiring (Ingested), these guys have uncovered the secret to having a great balance of entertaining grooves and more uptempo material. Of note here is the jubilant popping tone of the bass guitar which gives the whole affair a sort of tongue in cheek quality, but more importantly the tacit punctuation of the rhythm guitar and the utter remorselessness of the drumming when they dial up a ferocious double kick fill ("The Local Flavour") or just outright blast ("Subatomic Insemination")...it's like concrete being poured over a stash of murder victims. There's also a surgical level of detail to the guitar techniques which will recount not only the aforementioned Corpse as they transitioned from the Barnes to Fisher years, but also some Suffocation, Mortal Decay and many other top and middle shelf US brutes.

Lyrically they're not about to stand out from the pack, but you knew that the first time you laid eyes on this. 'Odes' to body horror, cannibalism, mutation and murder abound, and the cover artwork is once again excellent in prefacing the experience you're about to have, since the music truly relays the dynamics of a butcher knife rising and falling as it chops through meat and bone. Amputated are generally quite concise, but still pack a fair number of riffs into each composition that you'll never become weary, even when they 'extend' outward to about 5 minutes with "Toolbox Abortionist" (much of which is an outro sample, admittedly). The tremolo patterns interspersed amidst the cement slams are a mix of clownish and evil note selections, which ultimately reinforces the pervasive sense of serial murder glee. There isn't a damn thing anywhere on the album that I'd consider truly original or essential for the genre, yet Dissect, Molest, Ingest is a tighter and more effective experience than even its predecessor, which was well on its way to being so. Not nearly perfect, but good enough stuff if you just wanna kick your feet back and dream about how you'd carve up your...I should go no further.

-autothrall
http://www.fromthedustreturned.com