The Most Refined of the Death Metal Genre

Now the thing about death metal that you have to deal with if you want to hear some of the most amazing and haunting musical compositions of the modern era is the completely godawful vocals, which most people refer to pejoritvely as "cookie monster." It's basically as low of a scream as possible, rendering what might otherwise be universally loved musical arrangements all but moot. Not to mention, the vast stretches of our population want as little as possible do to with any genre of music that uses the word "death" as an effective descriptor. To be honest, most people don't make it far enough to even get to the vocals, stopped somewhere along the way if not by the cover art (the amount of mutilated flesh depicted is usually in direct proportion to how fast and loud the band is) or the band's name (either verbal representations of the cover art or, presumably, the same translated into a Scandinavian language) then certainly by the final roadblock, the names of the songs or albums.

Germany's Necrophagist is, in some ways unfortunately, no different. Their song titles roam from pretty direct thematic indicators (ignominous and pale) to even more direct thematic indicators (stabwound).

The cardinal lyrical difference between the various genres of metal appears to be from what angle the lyricist decides to view death and destruction. Whereas metalcore may look at destruction anagogically through the view of an unjust society, and black metal personifies death and destruction by allegorically representing Satan, darklords, stone gates and oceans of fire, death metal takes the micro approach. It looks at death as an inevitable biological process through which our most intimate and ultimately realized fears manifest themselves. Necrophagist's first album was titled "Onset of Putrefaction," which is a death-metally sounding phrase describing the moment when decomposition of once-living flesh begins to emit odorous compounds. So that's what they're getting at. If it wasn't clear enough from the album title, the first track is called "foul body autopsy." Death metal is not a genre known for its subtlety.

I wish I could relay exactly what the music is doing without using Nintendo analogies, but I cannot. The guitar riffs sound like those power-up machines that restore your life meter in, you know, every fucking nintendo game.

Okay, now vibrate your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Now do that in 15/16 time.That approaches what the drums sound like.

Singer/songwriter/guitarist Muhammed Suicmez, who also played every instrument on the aforementioned Onset of Putrefaction, has found a full band for their latest release, Epitaph. But the playing sounds suspiciously like their first album. I have a feeling this Muhammed dude is the type of control freak who wouldn't let his band members record in the studio, but judging by the stuff he composes and plays, he has every right to be.

The only flaw on the entire album is the vocals. Now I understand that if you do anything but the gnarliest of growls, death metal enthusiasts will turn their back on you faster than Sammy the Bull Gravano. But for a band as innovative as Necrophagist--a band whose own website (the Official Necrophagist Dungeon, mind you) boasts their single-handed resuscitation of the genre--the monotone growl just distracts. It's like if in the middle of Cirque du Soleil, a guy came out on stage and busted out a decent anyone's-uncle-can-do-it three ball juggle. It might impress a few kids, but they're better than that.

That's not to say that you shouldn't do whatever it takes to hear this album. Just listen to it. Listen to it and think about your own imminent death. Think about the rotting that your flesh will experience, and compare that to the milder, gentler rotting your flesh is already starting to experience. Then, when you've sufficiently mulled it over, let one of the killer guitar riffs refill your life meter.