Album Review: Brainsore - The Grip of the Naked Mind
Reviewed by Eric Clifford
Harriet sits, thin, but for the first time in too long she has meat enough on her bones for there to be colour in her cheeks. This place has worked wonders. Two spaces to my left sits Sandra, awaiting her turn to speak. She’s smart, is Sandra. Corporate lawyer some years back, before cocaine began mattering more than her career. Wasn’t until her marriage dissolved that she really began spiralling. But she’s here now; hasn’t had a sniff of a line in 3 weeks – not a lot, unless it’s been 3 years since you went 3 hours between lines. Harriet’s poison was heroin. Sad story really, she’d been in and out of addiction for years, but finally thought she was clear. Had a lot going for her; got a job – didn’t pay much, but it was something. Council house too. Small, but more than she’d ever had before. Got a man in her life too. 7 months pregnant and every reason to think things were looking good. Then she’d gone for a checkup. See how things were going. We're sorry, they said. We can’t find a heartbeat any more. She’d not lasted too much longer after that, and once that one thread got pulled everything else unravelled with it. But she’s here now; she’s here now and she’s doing so very well, putting the weight back on, healing. But it’s my first week here. First I’ve spoken of my problems. It’ll be alright, Sandra had said. There’s no shame here. So I stand, palms sweating, nervous as I’ve been in forever.
“My name is Eric, and I am addicted to blastbeats”.
Ah, Deathgrind. Done well, there are few sub-genres i’m happier to imbibe than this contumelious blend. Brainsore though...it’s not that they ply their trade poorly, it’s more that it’s just somewhat stock for the genre. “Competent” would be accurate but also rather damning with faint praise – it’s chord progressions follow ones you’ve heard a million times, it’s production is weighty but not remarkably so, it’s performance comprised of technically sound but typical material. Which isn’t to say that there aren’t flickers of ingenuity here; closer “Beyond Recognition” presents a tasty package of malice fuelled Deathgrind goodness, with a savage tremelo/blast to thrash/D-beat trade off going on, whereas “Mount Ashes” grinds with appreciable velocity and fervour. There are flickers of latter-day exodus in here, something from “The Atrocity Exhibition”, with it’s sharp, angular but recognizably thrash riffing. Mingled in though are more uninspired if inoffensive Passages of bog standard power chord progressions; there’s little room on a grind record for filler when an average runtime is shorter than a lesbian’s fingernails, but few songs on “Grip of the Naked Mind” are wholly devoid of it – “Harvest Red” has some killer riffs to it but the intro for one example is as factory default as it comes. Again, it’s not bad, it’s just there, and it’s exasperating to discuss because of it.
Seriously, if only I hated this it would be so much easier to discuss. “s’alright I guess” makes for a lacklustre review but God damn if it doesn’t cover everything I feel about this album. Songs like “The Mangrove Diaries” are decent, and played with zeal, but they are also in large part composed of note changes that just obey the quarter note, which isn’t an unforgivable approach, but there are so many more interesting ways to construct a riff, and so many riffs here follow that same method. The songs become predictable, consistent but there’s a sense of deja vu even from track to track. I find myself wondering why I’m not just listening to Foetal Juice, or even something truly vile like that “Epitome of Putridity” EP from Sequestrum not so long ago. The Grind scene of today is a feral menagerie of violence fetishists amongst whom Brainsore, alas, do little to stand out. I enjoy this release. But I enjoy it because I have a frankly unhealthy love for this brand of soundscape; but besides to other equally unsavoury blast enthusiasts, I unfortunately can’t recommend this.
