Labels: self released
Review by: Alex Deller
The problem with making albums like this “” and making them this well “” is that success inevitably results in misery and migraine for the listener. Hence I’ve had this bastard thing on my MP3 player for two years now, and have only just mustered the strength to crank out a review. That’s my excuse anyway, and I’m sticking to it. Car Bomb play mean, brutal, technical shit which combines the grotesque, panelbeaten riffs of Meshuggah with a stoic, Broadrickian sense of man vs machinery. Rather than coming across all po-faced and proficient like many a tech or djent act, however, there’s a decidedly human edge to proceedings, as though the band are mere threads away from cracking and totally losing their marbles. Take the hideous, seesawing mania of ‘Garrucha’ or ‘Recursive Patterns’, for example. Horrible things. Things that make your brain want to be sick. Lurching between anal retentive precision and silvery, T-1000 gloop that flows with eerie, nauseous grace. Occasionally ‘solos’ appear, but these are more like a superior race interfacing with sleek new technology than proper guitar sounds, and the sporadic bouts of slimy Patton/Puciato vox serve to unnerve rather than act as a platform for potential human interaction. All in all it’s a bloody marvellous thing, but Christ if I haven’t got a ferocious ruddy headache again…