Bloody Pathology

Literally, I tell you, as these Russian metallers hail from the outskirts of said Pole, keeping themselves warm during the infamous Russian frost by playing some really cool complex death metal, think the Messiah exploits from the early-90’s, with sweeps of early dazzling Suffocation-esque brutality.

The compositions are well-measured blends of melody and aggression, multi-layered rifforamas with tempo changes galore, the vicious guttural death metal singer presiding over the complicated scenery with not very comprehensive but genuinely threatening tirades. Ambitious larger-than-life numbers like “Virus” throw quite a bit at the listener, brutal sweeps, alluring melodies, entangled riff-patterns, and a few quiet dissipations, this highbrow symbiosis also handsomely achieved on “Exhumation”, a more clinical, more technical proposition with sudden twists and turns following in quick succession, the speedy passages reaching near-Cryptopsy-like knots on the most feverish moments. A string of shorter more direct cuts (the maddening “Infectious Dead”, the thrash-prone “The Saw and Sulphuric Acid”) strip this effort of its contrived clout, relying on hyper-active semi-technical configurations, the bigger intrigue brought back with the choppy nervy “Sign of Hate”, an over-the-top exercise in cumulative death metal complexity with a pacifying doomy epitaph.

Yes, that’s some way to keep yourself warm in those freezing latitudes… brutal , technical, entangled stuff, restlessly, hectically executed like the guys can’t really afford to pound with moderation having in mind the low temperatures there. The headbangers will be shattered by the end of this showdown, at least those who would choose to follow the not very regular rhythm-sections, but there are also quite a few interesting melodic nuances flowing around, think the Messiah recordings again, both from the riff and the lead department. The symbiosis has been well achieved, not too many unpredictable decisions; once the main ingredients have been introduced, the listener learns to anticipate how some of the passages would develop, the resultant guessing game by all means on the entertaining rather than the boring side.

The predictability got abandoned to an extent for the full-length, a worthy tractate from the dazzling brutality movement (Suffocation and Cryptopsy again) with curt staccato riffs flying around, performed with the utmost intensity, “None So Vile” smacked in the freezing taiga for another more or less scheduled meltdown. Nah, with music of the kind one doesn’t need the Sun over there… one may even expect floods of acidic metallic currents as potential calamities in this part of the world.