Labels: self released
Review by: Samuel Fowler
Ahhhh well. A depressing start was more or less guaranteed by a quick peek at the cover of this. The centerpiece is a goats skull made from two revolvers back-to-back adorning a landscape that probably aspires to look like vampyric wytchfires from the 8th level of Dante’s hell, but in actual fact looks more as if someone accidentally spilt some ketchup and mustard on the cover. The painfully agonizing nature of the lyrics and fonts portrayed inside this cd sleeve also boded poorly.
Sure enough the press release pointedly pitches this at “fans” of Megadeath and Carcass (of which I am by no stretch whatsoever of the imagination either) and in actual fact, the 4 tracks on this disc sound more like all the (most) boring bits and filler from the last Darkest Hour record watered down to the weakest homeopathic concentrations. Listening to this is like trying to breathe congealed 10 year old tarmac. The music and the barest possiblity of any form of any aesthetic at all would appear to be lacking, indeed there wouldn’t appear to be the slightest modicum of passion or purpose in any way whatsoever… and as for the vocals.. imagine if you will a pneumatic bear being poked repeatedly with a zappy cattle prod. Not the gnarly stompy rad fucking sort of bear that’d rip your entrails out without a thought and wear them as a hat, but rather the sort of bear that you encounter in a zoo that glares balefully at you from behind a rock waiting for you to go away and leave it to eat it’s rabbit legs in peace.
To be absolutely fair to Apollyon, this record would appear to be missing it’s target here. I’m sure the PR company (with their press release resplendent with bizarrely optimistic and arrant nonsense) are obviously aiming this record at the kids who wear those nekro kr00sh death metal t-shirts with those logos that look like the result of an unfortunate pigeon with a severe diuretic problem doing it’s messy business on them (you know the type of shirts I mean..). Me being the bearded Leatherface obsessive would appear to be not in any way at all to be the target market. I cannot stand music that appears to exist purely for the purpose of evoking a contrived sound and atmpsphere, Because although I’m sure in the the hands of the keychain-and- trench-coat-wearing connoisseur this will be seen in an entirely different way, 5 spins of this CD is leaving *MYSELF* cold, lifeless gasping for air and without the slightest sight of optimism or hope. I needed a critical 45 minute transfusion of Chokehold straight into my fucking eardrums right after this, before my vital signs began again to show any signs of registering and the blood again started to fill my freezing choked lifeless frame.