Slutvomit, Swarming Darkness
A band’s name rarely causes one to ponder the depths of the very letters that form said moniker. I mean, what exactly constitutes the contents of slut vomit? Half-chewed cigarette butts? Accidentally inhaled condom? There’s gotta be a good volume of booze in there, right? Is this expelled conglomeration like that of a mako shark, complete with half eaten baby dolphin and license plate? These are the things that keep me up at night.
Thankfully, the music on Slutvomit’s Swarming Darkness isn’t nearly as mentally taxing. The grimey, back-alley mayhem found within these eleven tracks is delivered via thrashing death metal with a blackened edge. That’s it. It’s ferocious, violent and even sounds as though the band recorded while wading knee deep through regurgitated bile. I can dig that.
Culling influences from early Sodom and Venom, this Seattle-based trio stomp on the accelerator right from the start of their debut full-length and rarely let up even for a moment as they plunder furiously through your skull, forcibly down through your gut and violently out the ass. This shit is raw, messy at times and down right infectious as it harkens back to mid-80s malevolence as heard in the opening title track and the awesome “Downward Falling Christ.”
As you can tell from the song titles (“Lucifer Unbound” or “Servants of Satan” anyone?), these guys aren’t all snuggly in bed with the Messiah. Each track is in direct attack on religion and yet, never really sound redundant or contrived. “Bombing the Chapel” starts off with a decent scream before descending into madness with rabid drums and driving riffage. “Morbid Priest (Of Hell)” is another solid effort on Slutvomit’s part. The song channels a little Slayer as it builds to a vicious peak of Satanic fervor and a bestial solo/blast combination.
I don’t believe that these guys are really providing anything new with Swarming Darkness nor are they reinventing the wheel. What you’ve got here is an album packed full of old school blackened death metal that pins everything at full-throttle in an attempt to cram as much maliciousness as possible down your gullet. I’ve spun this album more times than I can count. It’s that infectious.