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Disembowelment > Transcendence into the Peripheral > Reviews > Annable Courts
Disembowelment - Transcendence into the Peripheral

Trance & dance into the psychedelics - 40%

Annable Courts, November 20th, 2023

These guys were chilling at home one night baked on blunts (that's the safer PG-13 bet, by the way) and one of them played the Cathedral's Forrest of Aquarium album or whatever it's called on some early 90's cassette system and it provoked an epiphany in each of the members' deep consciousness. One of the guys, luckily, had a guitar and amp and cab that he doodled with occasionally and started vaguely imitating the doom stuff: chuggy chug chugs with coarse, awkwardly articulated riffs played on the low E string, at around 50 bpm (life is hard when you're heavily sedated). The drummer, stoned out of his mind and permanently on the edge of collapsing, followed the apathetic pace of the repeating guitars, while adding a little double-kick run of 16ths when he got bored.

The guys were also fans of the early Swedish death metal sound, so they'd imported the EQ config to their setup and jammed a few passages of that too. Thankfully the guitarist could tremolo pick and the drummer could Lombardo and blast. The problem is when he does blast, the guitars go missing and it's unsure whether that's because they're so covered by the drums or the guitarist simply stops playing entirely and waits for the next beat to come on to resume his inspiring performance. The vocalist didn't know what to do so he pulled a vomit-y type of grunting, some moments more remote than others. His tummy did hurt from the gallons of beer, and it's fair to infer some of the recorded vocals were involuntary sounds. Also, occasionally, a high shriek barf would spew out of him. When he wasn't doing that, he would try himself at the emotional clean stuff, which wasn't always out of tune. By the looks of it they were going for some sort of depiction of the album title plot: transcendence into the beer bubble, as perhaps more fitting to the music here.

The guitarist intermittently gets knocked into a stupor and remembers all the clean guitar parts he'd learned from The Cure and in those moments starts playing slight variations: they sometimes connect with the chord progressions, sometimes, not so much. But he plays them and swears he's reaching the seventh heaven, which he may've been doing in a more clinical definition. There's that primal spiritual reverence in this - with a very loose definition of "primal" and a very, very loose definition of "spiritual reverence".

The last track, 'something something Of All My Imagined Shoes' has that silent part with a trippy sitar type effect. It's cool. Like many great, great movies in cinema: it's unsure whether these works of art should be given anything less than 100% rating. They're so unique and artistic. This sounds like very little else, and is entertaining in its own right. But maybe it's received enough 100's on this website so for the sake of not transcending too much peripherally, let's dare venture towards a fathomable (and more concrete) universe where this isn't a 100. Finally, this may be what a wise man was warning about as his words rang out: "drugs are bad, mkay".