Beneath The Massacre
"Evidence of Inequity"
Rating:
Reviewed by:
Beppo Blitzkrieg
What the fuck? This is not “Be Neat And Massage Her”!
"Beneath The Massacre"? What the fuck?
I fucking hate sexual enhancement mail-order. You have to whisper this shit on the phone like some goddamn fucking master spy, and then they still always screw my shit up. (As if my shit wasn’t already screwed up.) I don’t know what this fucking CD is gonna do for my seduction-skills, but, ho-hum, let’s give it a twirl.
Whoa, whoa whoa!
Motherfucker!
Back the motherfucking truck up!
There’s something wrong with my CD player. There’s gotta be. Skips like a motherfucker.
This shit is out of control! I’ll try my other one in the bedroom. Here we go (stomp stomp stompety stomp all the little roaches).
Let's pop it in.
“Play”
Loading loading… C’mon, man. It’s fucking 2005. Why am I waiting for this shit? Here we go…
Whoa!
Whoa, whoa motherfucking whoa! Again!
Is it supposed to sound like this?
It sounds like the damn thing is stuck on motherfucking “ffwd”-scanning. That annoying ticking sound, you know? tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic tictic… Only with the most insane blast beats and fucking telephone modem guitar solos in between!
These guys are the motherfucking Spiral Architects of Death Metal! It’s the most insanely fast rhythms over the most brutal barrage of death metal riffing you’ll ever fucking hear! Intense enough to give me a fucking nosebleed, trying to keep up here. Whoa! That song ended fast! Motherfucking "Comforting Prejudice”. Short one. Thank motherfucking God for that. It was good, but I was starting to experience strange scents and I’m sure I’m not supposed to have this massive motherfucking bulge at my temple.
Next song. “Profitable Killcount”. Yeah, OK. Pray for me, Argentina, here we go. Motherfucker.
“Play”
AARRRRGGGHHH!
Even faster!!! Let me off this ride! Let me off this ride! Let me off this motherfucking motherfucker of a fucking ride! Stop, stop, stop stopstopstopstop! AAARRRGHHHH!
Damn…
Pant, pant, motherfucking pant already! That was rough. All of a sudden I turned into motherfucking Wonderbread Mom, trying, with all the hysteria I could muster, to turn off the motherfucking stereo by hitting all the buttons at once.
OK, I’m gonna take a break, get really fucking drunk, and then get back to you on this one.
(Three hours later)
Yeah! Fucking hell. Let’s go motherfucker! Wanna fucking mess with me? Huh? Huh? Motherfucker… Wanna mess with me? Fucking piece of shit death metal fuck! *hic! I know fucking Kerry King, so don’t you, don’t you… come here and act all tough and shit in my… in my… *hic… motherfucker… in my living room. Motherfucker…
“Play”
There we go. Aaaahhh… Much better. This is some serious… some… serious motherfucking Death Metal here! Right here. Motherfucker. None of that faggy shit with keyboards and melodies and shit, like the fucking “Melo Death” candy ass faggots. Just a bad ass motherfucking cookie monster going motherfucking postal in a motherfucking slaughterhouse, the way Death Metal is supposed to fucking sound. Only these guys are fucking crazier than most. If I only could do something about those motherfucking weird guitar solos that keep playing in the background! Motherfuckers! I am trying to listen to the damn fucking song! Shut the fuck up! What are you playing, a fucking US Robotics 28.8? Just fucking connect already!
Ow!
That hurt! Motherfucker. Track 4, “Regurgitated Lullaby For The Born Dead” (how did they know?), started off with some damn drums that kicked my pace maker into stellar fucking gap drive. Just when I didn’t think these fuckers could get any more extreme they fucking pull a damn fucking light sabre out of their hat and slice up that… that… motherfucking rabbit with it! Catch him! Motherfucker’s getting away! Run, run, run little rabbit. I’ll save you. HA! Motherfucker! I got him. Give me that fucking sword! I will… Motherfucker… I will… will… Zzzzzzz… Zzz…. Fuck him the fuck up… Zzzz…
(5 hours later)
Jesus fuckassing Christ. I gotta go. My place looks like shit. And who is this motherfucker in my bed? Michael Jackson? Motherfucker.
Word of motherfucking advice on that CD. It’s short, so maybe it’s just a fucking EP. 5 songs and 20 minutes in total. That’s an EP, right? Short for “Extended Play”. Fucking tell me about it. Anyway, buy and crack out. If you’re into extreme metal of any sorts, just fucking buy this album, cut it with some baking soda, and just snort it the fuck up. Wildest ride you’ll have this fucking century.
Fuck me, I’m going back to bed. Maybe I’ll even get lucky.
Artwork used with permission from Neverland Music Inc.
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