Fleshgrind was one of those 90s arrivals that I almost wanted to throw my support behind simply on principle, but then found the sentiment at odds with just how banal and ineffective their music was, not only in the long term, but after a mere few tracks of exposure. They seemed for all purposes like a humble group of guys doing what they loved, but despite Destined for Defilement's intriguing, H.R. Giger-like biomechanical cover art perversions, a decent moniker and logo, there was just nothing they spewed unto their genre that hadn't already been inseminated by far more interesting outfits. This debut had 'also-ran' smeared all over it, both lyrically and musically, and while Fleshgrind was not particularly awful at churning and chugging and exploring gruesome concepts, we'd already heard far better from bands like Cannibal Corpse, Cryptopsy, Suffocation and Deicide. Which would not be a problem if they were writing songs with riffs that dug into your flesh like the meat hooks that inspired so many of these bands' concepts. Which, sadly, they were not.
Destined for Defilement is essentially a poor man's None So Vile traveling at a more moderate speed and sharing its lane with Pierced from Within and The Bleeding. The most distinguished component throughout the brief 29 minute run time would be the guttural belching of Rich Lipscomb, which was more or less like a natural evolution of the Chris Barnes style into more brutal, amphibious territory. 'Swamps of the Mutilated' Lipscomb could occasionally dial this back to a more dry, Floridian bark, so there was actually a potential for some variation, syllabic lines shifting between arid and saturated intonation, but where a superior set of songs might have really supported and highlighted his performance, we are instead delivered vapid riffing structures that utterly fail to leave an impression. The real detrimental constant to Destined for Defilement is its inability to generate any sort of menace or excitement. It's not trailing along like a slug, but the overuse of mid-tempo, staccato chugging occasionally interspersed with older school tremolo riffing just seems like it was pulled off an uninspired blueprint. The riffs jar and crash into one another with little unity, and you might be able to snatch a few from one song and then transpose them into another and not notice a difference.
That's not to say that, by 1997 standards, this music was entirely generic or unwelcome. It obviously has yet to run its course, since a lot of today's lords of underground brutality are still working off the same blueprints, but there's very little flash or finesse to fill in the creative gaps evoked through many of these riffs. I'm serious when I say that it wasn't until the fourth track (of nine) on this album, "Sordid Degradation" where I felt that the guitar had written anything even remotely catchy, and even there it's pretty standard death/thrash without a concerted, memorable hook or evil melody. All of the instrumentation functions as intended, like a gang of tire-iron-wielding miscreants beating in the carapace of an automobile, but the composition is modular and ultimately insipid, with the note progressions lacking anything disturbing, dissonant or ominous. Sort of like some phoned in, post-shark jumping horror flick sequel that comes laminated in a frightening package, but very soon collects dust on your DVD shelf. A brutal bore, but a bore nonetheless.
Production is also not the forte here. The drums have the requisite level of double bass muscle and some sub blast acceleration, but the kicks feel like someone hammering away on a vinyl seat cushion with their feet, and the snares and crashing percussion feel overly polished and plastic. The bass playing is honestly not that bad when you can hear it, but it's too often subjugated by the prim punch of the rhythm chugging, and even when it cuts through, the tone is just too dry. Some heavier distortion there might have helped to offset the sterility of the rhythm guitar, which is also just too clean to really leave a dent. The sparse, frenzied clinical melodies that erupt also feel subsumed by household bleach or other chemicals; they definitely have a tint of the tone of Death's mid to late 90s progressive death output, which I was not always incredibly keen on, but then again they're not able to generate with riffs on a Schuldiner level anyway. On the whole, Destined for Defilement lacks power and intensity due to its introverted mix.
The lyrics weren't exactly the worst out there, but then they're really just a pastiche of subject matter and phrasing circa Cannibal Corpse, Mortician, and Obituary, with the usual misogynistic and necrophiliac focus, but never too disgusting or convincing. Nothing inherently awful of distracting, but nothing that gets a blood rise in any organ. In the end, it's difficult to think of Destined for Defilement as anything more than a coathanger-armed coattail-clinger to that stubborn wave of gore and brutality that thrived in an underground where many other metallic niches had dissolved in the 90s. It had its collectible shock value, and was pretty cool to look at, but in terms of depth or individuality it was just another in a herd of livestock being goaded along by the prods of inspiration that predated it by about 5-7 years. I've heard worse, but that's far from enough compulsion to revisit or recommend this.
-autothrall
http://www.fromthedustreturned.com
Fleshgrind plays a style of “groovy” death metal on Destined for Defilement. Full of simple and easy on the ears riffs, little in the way of technical skill and all the songs similarly arranged, Destined isn’t an amazing death metal album, hell it’s not even GOOD, but makes for a fun listen once in a while (and you wouldn’t want to hear it more than that).
Starting with the song structures, pretty much every song sounds like it was written with little deviation from the same formula. About halfway through and especially the last few songs, you’ll feel like you’ve heard everything there is to hear on Destined for Defilement, and I’m not gonna lie; you’re right. Fifteen minutes at a time is more than enough to make your ears water for something more electrifying, or something classic, or just about anything but Fleshgrind including the sound of silence. Luckily the songs are uniformly short and the whole album is a little under half an hour, though it seems like longer and not in a good way.
The riffs are simple but there’s enough to make the songs mildly interesting, and some of them are catchy if nothing else. There’s also a few breakdowns, if you could call them that. From slow to slower, back to slow, then slower, and so on. Not all that slow in actuality, but Fleshgrind has a way of sounding real fucking slow even when they’re not playing slow. A blunt way of putting it would be that this album really drags on, as a whole and even within each song. Speaking of which, the first few songs are the best. The riff on “Whacked” is a great choice to start off the album and “Burning Your World” is an equally catchy follow-up. “Chamber of Obscurity” also has a nifty riff in it. Destined pretty much heads downhill after that, like I said you feel like you’ve already heard everything Fleshgrind has to offer by this point. The drumming is soulless and uninteresting. The bass is very clear but also soulless, just there. The vocals are something between death metal grunts and throaty goregrind gurgles, and amazingly enough, soullessly performed. Who would’ve thought you could do death metal vocals and be this uninteresting?
Destined for Defilement is simple.. simple death metal. I wish I could throw in another adjective but simple really sums it up. Not recommended for anyone seeking an unknown piece of death metal mastery or anyone seeking anything at all, this is a pointless album the world would’ve gone on just fine without. But it’s fun to listen to now and again, even though you won’t get anything out of it.
Mechanical brutal death metal. Not industrial; mechanical. Machinegun blasting, ultra-precise tremolo riffs, and not a hint of groove anywhere. Even the vocal lines are very tight, particularly in the more percussive sections, where individual gurgles and squeals are cut down to the barest possible monosyllabic statements of intent. The bass is audible and perpetually thunking away in the background of the production, which lacks any sort of tonal definition or subtlety; everything's just a series of on/off switches.
The style of death metal played here is at least partially archaic. A lot of mid-'90s brutal death sounds like this; I guess that the establishment of brutal death metal as an INTENDED idea instead of one stumbled across demanded that it be made brutal by sacrificing any sort of human feeling. That's why there are no instrumental errors, no melodies, nothing really musical about this album at all. It could have been made by a computer. It's a draining listen. It's a lot like getting punched in the stomach for a half hour.
I don't really 'like' this album as much as appreciate it. There's not much death metal out there that's so obsessively uncompromising; even later Fleshgrind made some concessions to the listener with warmer production, less oppressive song structures, and occasional flickers of melody instead of the perpetually rumbling series of low, atonal notes that compose the riffs of this album. It's not an album that can be criticized for not being death metal ENOUGH; it's practically the essence of the genre. There are no solos, breakdowns, or thrash sections. Blast, midpaced slog. Those are the two settings of this music. It's the anti-Devourment.
I'd say this is on some level mandatory for every death metal fan, just to hear what this particular niche of death metal was like and to witness the result of death metal stripped of all thrash. Aside from that, I can't see anyone else needing to hear this, much less wanting to.