There are reasons why farmboys get a bad reputation. Reasons that are best left to your bio on AdultSheepFinder (there’s probably an App for that now.) Be wary of them however because Black Fucking Cancer want to humour you with their killer riffs.
Which brings us to this their first cacophonous record that has an eponymous title and is grossly meta. Black Fucking Cancer, but what actually is Black Fucking Cancer? It sounds like a benign testicular teratoma finding solace in pseudo-religious doctrine instead of a life insurance pamphlet. A poor choice even for this drum-clickbait product.
Missing the point of Venom’s classic album and genre namesake this album is a fantasists wet dream in exposition. It’s two-dimensional subjects are abstracts of naughty words in western society, and are used with a detrimental effect to the music, which isn’t all that bad. If not slightly djent. Influenced by hatred and disgust for mankind or epitomizing it, whatever, it paints pretty pictures for it.
It’s within a death metal sensibility that Black Fucking Cancer write songs, the delivery is black metal-esq but far too abstract to call it true Black Metal. Its flimsy breaks and winding chords are a predictable fare for the genre. Yet there’s no time spent on the album, we don’t wait to hear that killer bit, and we are never left in antici…