Proliferation of Disaster

Synecdochically speaking, if I were Mindly Rotten, I'd be pissed, or at the very least confused. It's like, "hey, our mediocre debut received Illmatic-level obsequity from the [relative] masses, so let's put out a record that decimates it in every way imaginable and have it go completely ignored". Well played. Now let me do what needs to be done, and try to bring some attention to an album that actually deserves it.

Okay, then, we have an intro first. It samples the movie The Jacket. Can the introduction to the album possibly suck as bad as The Jacket did? Let's simply leave that as a rhetorical question and move on to the first real song, "Primordial Absence (Foreign Presence)". This is the true casus belli to the war-set-to-music that is Proliferation of Disaster. It's technical death metal played very fast, very chirurgically, and, above all, very passionately. The scorched-earth nature of the guitar riffs is a testament to that; wild, acute and leprous, they're so ugly they're beautiful. The 2:30 mark of this song has a riff that sounds like it could be from The Wizard Of Oz -- I'm pretty sure it was directly lifted from The Wizard Of Oz, in fact -- and it still bears such dark esprit, which is... remarkable. Truly remarkable. This is Wicked Witch of the West shit right here. These riffs are so sharp and angular that I'd really like to be there when Glinda gets ass-fucked by a broomstick, the little bitch, just so I can use the imagery from the experience to provide a clever contrast.

I'm sorry, what was I saying? Right, the music. After such an intense opener, one would be right to be suspicious that, hey, maybe it was a fluke. One would be wrong. Dead wrong. We are just getting started. "Reign of Confusion (Unpredictable Perturbation)" is a sodomizer -- if you're familiar with hip-hop lingo, that's the tech death equivalent to a "banga" -- that formicates (not fornicates, you sick pervert) from the get-go via some lustful little licks that are probably more technical that most guitar players' solos. That's just how Mindly Rotten rolls, constantly reminding us how awesome they are. Fuck if I'm going to complain. The espièglerie of the riffing becomes more and more apparent as the album goes on. Technical death metal is not necessarily a sub-genre that benefits or suffers from atmosphere or a lack thereof, much in conflict with just about everything else I spin. With an album of this nature, it's really about the musicianship and the songwriting. My point is, while the guitar riffs aren't particularly malicious or stifling, they're beaucoup fun. Guitar acrobatics are just like actual acrobatics, really. Watching a (hot) female aerialist swinging (topless) on a trapeze (with ben wa beads in her butthole) won't imbue upon you the feeling of being strapped in a brodequin or burning at the stake in the name of God, but by God you'll be entertained by her.

Oh, man. Anyway, "Outside Forces (Shall Fragmented Beings)" gives us the first unencumbered glimpse of the bass player's talents. You want bass solos? You fuckin' got 'em. They'll get your clit hard, don't worry. Now, if you've heard the first Mindly Rotten album, consider the fact that I haven't mentioned the drumming yet a good thing. Do you remember The Most Exquisite Agonies? I certainly do. The most exquisite agonies of drum production that sounds like shit tainting an otherwise decent album, that is. Had Proliferation of Disaster had the same drum sound that the debut did, the same level of, just, absolute ASS production in general, honestly, then this review would not be going so swimmingly. I would have mentioned it first thing (production is always the antecedent factor I notice when first I hear an album), and everything after that would have been me descanting Mindly Rotten's efforts at playing catch up. However, this record is so good, that let me put it this way: Considering the total whirlwind of concentrated halcyon that this album is, they would have succeeded had that been the case. The drumming per se only furthurs that argument. I'd like to point to "Catastrophic Hecatomb (Collosal Destruction)", inter alia, as a prime instance of percussion work that raises the pedestal this album adorns higher yet. Dizzying, aggressive, tactfully abstract and, you know what else, it sounds damned good. Everything does, with regards to production quality.

Listening to the vocals presented herein is like sniffing fresh-out-of-the-dryer panties; not bad, but you can't help but ponder as to how much more orgiastic the goings on would be had said panties been swiped from the dirty hamper instead. They just kind of... are. Such is the case with most technical death metal grunts, n'est ce-pas? I don't know what it is, but generic vocals run rampant through tech death like pus through bed sores. That's disgusting. Forget I said that. While we're looking for flaws, the brevity of this album doesn't do it any favors. At 27 minutes, surely they can't be serious. Alas, they are, and I do apologize for calling you Shirley.

I don't like to think about what I don't have, but rather cherish the things I do. Let me tell you what I have right now: 27 minutes of tippy top-notch technical death metal courtesy of Mindly Rotten. Okay, 26 minutes, minus the fucky intro. God damn it, Mindly Rotten. its fun-sized quality notwithstanding, the riffs, the drumming, the solos, the CHAOS of this album as a whole staves off my being too crestfallen. In the grand scheme of things, this was my second favorite album of 2011, behind only Ebu Gogo Gutting the Child by Neoandertals. Yes, Proliferation of Disaster is a better album than Through the Cervix of Hawaah. Cry me a waterfall. Attain this fucker, you, uh... you fucker.

Pardon my French