More technical than it gives itself credit for, with its mechanical blast breaks, the impact soon drifts off into familiar territory featuring emotive harmonies to really stress the melody and the famous schizophrenic eight bar riff. It’s squirming methodology is predictable and it becomes uncomfortably repetitive.
Riffing on the line between melody and intensity the former moves through the pummeling it gets from the drum skins forgotten and seeking refuge in numbers. It’s technically sound but there are some killer riffs that could benefit from being motivated in simpler terms from the death metal rules of engagement.
Albeit a matter of style its dynamic production gives a firmer dimension to the ear ripping cut of the guitars. The overall tone it bleeds is toxic and drives through the air languishing chem trails, striking fear into some and denial into many. The solos can linger, similar to the elaborate drum track, and come across as frivolous decoration.
Yet its main content is pure and dense but it’s diminished by the pacing which is frenetic in confusion with intensity. The ideas are there on Worship the Grave but the structure is cardboard, and jet fuel does melt corrugated-card beams.