But other than the vocals, the guitar work too pushes the band right to the brink of the record so they’re practically touching us, and we can almost touch them. Forget any concept of nicety or flamboyant playing, or any other mode of imbuing their sound with ethereal or lofty ideals, the riffs, echoing the vocal input, are concerned solely in killing you outright. It’s as if the band heard the initial guitar tracks in the recording studio, liked then, and decided it needed to go even further. Yet their power never feels overwhelming, and you’re able to experience the full band’s coherent performance throughout each track, but it’s undeniable to state the riffs are a dominating aspect of the band’s time with you. It’s a strangling presence yet one whose grip upon your windpipe is loose enough that you can breathe enough throughout their onslaught. When solos are let loose, it’s with nuclear energy that they’re released as you get the inclination that these guys aren’t here to mess around. There isn’t a second of time to be wasted.
But none of the band’s sonic assault would feel as visceral had the production felt just a little weaker than the strength the band were vying for. The instant any track begins, the band and record are sprinting head first towards with a severity to be feared; there’s never a moment where the intensity of their performance lets up, for neither does the record give you the opportunity to relax. It’s like you’ve been thrown in a sealed room, without doors not windows, the light is barely visible but you know there’s a seasoned manic in the same room and his bloodied sledgehammer is ready for you. The production and tone this record adopts reflects that perfectly if you ask me, for there isn’t a peephole or crack in the wall that sound may escape from and therefore everything manages to stay contained within the dimensions the band themselves have constructed. We’ve experienced cavernous works of death metal beforehand and whilst this is familiar, it’s a kind of cavernous that’s physically destructive as opposed to crushing depths.
In conclusion, Origins Of The Deformed is an absolutely devastating assault on the senses, and will absolutely not stop for any notion of mercy. The band are here to play the most destructive sound they can possible muster, and if you can’t handle it then kiss any remaining hope goodbye for there’s bound to be nothing remaining of your lifeless body by the time this record ceases. When there’s a quality death metal record, there’s often the feeling there’ll be something of you to recover; that’s not the case, as Embryonic Autopsy seemingly go out of their way to make your death as ruthlessly bloody and dismembering as humanely possible. From front to back, this record wants nothing more than to mount your head on a spike, and throughout its production and riffs, the band more than believably champion this idea. It’s sure to raise eyebrows, especially pertaining to the sheer violence of their soundscape. A band to keep an eye on for sure.
