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Don't clamp the veins that carry the chemical to..
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gore grind industrial bla
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Raw, cheesy, chaotic, sanity-impaired grind / death / gore / black metal / experimental / etc. Should appeal to those who enjoy anything from Satyricon, Carcass
Review from a Croation Webzine GROSS sounds like a weird necro/cyber grind project reminiscent of primitive black metal as much as of sloppy goregrind. In the end it sums up as a cybergrind band but the lines between the rawness of black metal and perversions of goregrind maintain blurred. The CD "Raisins de la Mort" is best compared to the Brazilian cybergoregrind band C.V.I. as for the weird combination of BEHERET (Messe des Morts phase), AxCx & IMPETIGO. The CD itself is a hard pill to swallow even if you think you have managed to digest most of the grimness DIY cybergrind has to offer. There's literally not a single break, among these 38 tunes, that will let the listener take a breath once the CD has started. Lee of GROSS managed to compile a CD with these 32 minutes of the worst headache one can possibly experience. They should really sell this CD with an Aspirin included. Nevertheless it's pretty good sh*t, and you all know that I like noisy grind!
Song Info
Charts
Peak #381
Peak in subgenre #100
Uploaded
December 16, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.4 MB 128 kbps 1:31
Story behind the song
I remember when I first heard CADAVER's "...In Pains" album, and reading the lyrics to what could be described as fairly violent death metal, there were underlining touches of melancholy, and even an adoration of the more beautiful things in life. The band themselves might take that as an insult, but that's just how I interprated it, and it's something that to me worked, and was fairly appealing. I don't have any problem with mixing some of my fuzzier thoughts to the absurdity, stupidity and morbidity, I think it makes for an interesting contrast.
Lyrics
Life is precious, lacerations and scars are the charming decorations of death, I hold onto the cheer I feel for preferred hearts surrounding me that still beat. My veins beat blood that is kissed by death, coursing the chemical through my brain in this life, as ironic as that may sound. Well-dressed maniacs intend to clamp off those veins to prevent the diluted chemicals to communicate the visions to my psyche.
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