Retching – Charming the Decomposed Review

By Saunders

Part of the appeal of my long-standing relationship with death metal is the sheer diversity of the genre and its many sub-genres. There is something for all moods. So while stylistic preferences remain, most forms of death I can happily jam with, whether it be old school primitive clubbings, tech shredding, gnarled dissonance, emotive melodeath, brutal slam, or successful forays of doom, blackened and prog influences into deathly frameworks. But in the end, it’s the genre’s simplified, core values and slimy, grimy atmospheres that warm the heart. Throwing their hats in the old school death revivalist ring, relative newcomers Retching explode out the rusty graveyard gates with a no-nonsense, pretension-free blast of old school death. Seeking to add their own spin and identity to separate themselves from the horde of old school aficionados, while leaving reinvention for other folks, the Rhode Island duo unleash debut, Charming the Decomposed. Let us explore whether Retching possess the songwriting smarts and tools of destruction to make an impact outside of aping the genre’s proud past.

Thirty-two minutes is all it takes for Retching to deliver eight slashing cuts of riff-driven, blasty, gore-soaked death, American-style. Charming the Decomposed is an old school brawler with a mean streak, chock to breaking point with parasitic grooves, gut-busting riffs, brutal percussive assaults, and appropriately grisly, brutal vocal eruptions. All that said, Charming the Decomposed doesn’t take itself too seriously, loading the rabid, bloodied collection with a variety of part goofy, part unsettling samples, adding to the album atmosphere, even if they are a little overdone at times (see bludgeoning opener “Moonlight Perversions/Gorging on Ecstasy”). Otherwise, efficient, high-energy cuts are the order of the day, drawing influence from the esteemed likes of early Exhumed, Mortician, Carcass and Cannibal Corpse.

“Shower Curtain Silhouette” builds from a rugged, grinding base, ratcheting up tension before exploding into speedy, punk-infused rampages, stomping verses, and skillfully fluctuating tempo shifts. The deceptive songwriting diversity poking through the muck and feral abuse adds a layer of intrigue to otherwise more traditional, blunt force beatings, amid a couple of less impactful tunes. Another of the album’s stronger examples, “Septic Entombment,” features a creative arrangement, allowing breathing space for the meaty, yet wickedly infectious riffs and bouncing grooves to ride shotgun with aggressive, blast-riddled surges. Retching operates effectively in high-speed savagery, yet the writing tends to appeal most when mixed with slower, malevolent tempos, lending a doomy, leaden weight to proceedings, such as the tormenting melodies and ominous vibes emanating from “Fetid Abattoir.”

Energy rarely drops, as brutality and raw-boned explosions of speed and blast-riddled mayhem ensue. Retching wisely integrate structural and tempo variety, coupled with razor-fine slivers of melody and raucous, crunchy riffs to stave off monotony and lend the album an infectiously headbangable streak. Along with the aforementioned tunes, this is further highlighted on the brooding, ominous swagger of ‘Vulgar Celluloid Trophy”. The anonymous duo of Latex (drums, vox) and Mondo (guitars) forge a powerhouse combo, perfectly suited to the lean, mean, and cutthroat nature of the album’s tight construction. Latex whips together a punchy, inventive performance behind the kit, proving adept at deploying slower, groovier rhythms and finesse to go with the rip-snorting blasts and thrashy tempos. His serviceable vocals get the job done, adding a gritty, guttural edge. Meanwhile, partner in crime Mondo serves up an unhealthy dose of meaty, genuinely catchy riffs, which, if maintained consistently across the album, may have elevated a solid experience into something more substantial. Still, there is some excellent axework and riffs to sink into.

Retching’s impressively no-nonsense debut won’t challenge the upper tier of death metal albums in 2025 or threaten many year-end lists. But what it does, it does well, with a no-fuss, belligerent charm that is easy to like. While there is little fat or unnecessary bloat to be found, the songwriting has room for improvement to live up to the quality of the album’s stronger cuts and create a more consistent, compelling listen. However, signs are bright and the potential promising for Retching to build something more formidable down the track.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 22nd, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CannibalCorpse #CharmingTheDecomposed #DeathMetal #Exhumed #Mortician #OldSchoolDeathMetal #Retching #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords

EIFF 2025 Review: Mortician – “a quietly powerful piece of work.” Read it here https://bit.ly/4oIr725 by @LordWoolamaloo

#Mortician #film #review #EIFF #EIFF2025 #AbdolrezaKahani #Iran #NimaSadr #RahimBahrami #ErfanBokaei #Gola @edfilmfest

#BostonWeekend 32/x Sat METAL in #CambridgeMA - buncha #Metal bands, $35, 6pm doors: #Mortician #Gruesome #Desolus #Frog Mallet #Severed Boy #Gravewraith https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIjRXzcTWkc https://www.ticketweb.com/event/mortician-gruesome-desolus-frog-mallet-middle-east-downstairs-tickets/14411923 #BostonMusic #DeathMetal

Director Abdolreza Kahani with his two leads, Nima Sadr and Gola, discussing their film Mortician in the Filmhouse
https://www.flickr.com/photos/woolamaloo_gazette/54735901466/in/photostream/

The film won this year's Sean Connery Prize for Feature Filmmaking Excellence at the film festival

#Edinburgh #Edimbourg #film #EIFF #EIFF2025 #EdinburghInternationalFilmFestival #Mortician #FilmFestival #Iran #Canada #AbdolrezaKahani #photography #photographie

‘Mortician’ Review: Exiled Iranians Hover Between Worlds in a Dark Protest Film With a Light Touch

https://fed.brid.gy/r/https://variety.com/2025/film/reviews/mortician-review-1236494734/

‘Mortician’ Review: Exiled Iranians Hover Between Worlds in a Dark Protest Film With a Light Touch
#Variety #Reviews #AbdolrezaKahani #EdinburghFilmFestival #Mortician

https://variety.com/2025/film/reviews/mortician-review-1236494734/

Morbific – Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh Review

By Al Kikuras

Finnish wizards of gore Morbific have been at this grimy game for half a decade, and to say the wear their ruptured hearts on their sleeves would be much more of an understatement than anything they have churned out of the chum factory on their previous two full-lengths or this, their third. The gloriously titled Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh drips with youthful enthusiasm, but as Ferox so eloquently described their absolute barbarism in his review of their sophomore outing, Squirm Beyond the Mortal Realm, Morbific aren’t here to break any new musical barriers; they’re just cracking skulls. These three Finnish grave robbers aren’t surgeons, they’re pugilists with all the finesse of a Sledge-o-Magic to a watermelon. If you don’t want to get messy, stay away from these three amigos, but if you’re into wearing a plastic schmatta in the front row at Sea World, gear up. Morbific are the Gallagher 2 to the Gallaghers of their progenitors. Take equal parts Autopsy, Carcass, and Mortician, whack them up in a blender, and you have the chunky, vile smoothie that is Bloom of the Abnormal Flesh. Even the logo is a noble homage to Impetigo sans prominently placed penis.

The aforementioned great gore grandads have been oft imitated generation after generation. First came General Surgery, then 45 different Razorback Records bands, but like copying an album to a cassette, and then copying that cassette to another cassette, the quality tends to decrease a bit with each duplicate. Some of the latest crop are more successful in their savagery, like Miasmatic Necrosis, Pathologist, Pharmacist, and the very close-to-my-heart/sphincter monikered Hemorrhoid. While I will visit these morgues on occasion for a quick whiff of formaldehyde, as an old head, I find myself going back to the actual classics where all the stuff started, and I fear that Morbific, as much as they mean well, pale compared to the much meatier outings of their forefathers.

Opening dirty ditty “Smut Club (For the Chosen Scum)” sets the seedy bar high, lurching like an unhoused leviathan on meth on the wrong side of the sidewalk in an affluent neighborhood. Vocalist/bassist Jusa Janhonen announces his arrival with a mighty ‘Pillard’ (a new phrase for ‘a cavernous roar that ends with a foul gurgle’ that is expected to be added to the Oxford English Dictionary in the fall of 2025). His equally foul bass breakdown at the minute mark has a satisfying squelch, especially when doubled by Olli Väkeväinen’s buzzsaw guitar tone, and Ollli’s brother, Onni’s refreshingly untriggered drum sound perfectly captures all the Discharge d-beat spirit of old. The literal gurgle under the ensuing keyboard interlude mid song is a shining moment in the proceedings that lends an air of almost innovation to what is otherwise a primarily paint-by-numbers OSDM affair. For example, the straightforward song two, “Panspermic Blight,” would benefit from a little more coloring outside of the chalk outlines.

It’s when Morbific bring new smells to the noxious bouquet that the listens are more rewarding. While their hearts are in the right place, in the case of this gory mess removed from the chest and planted on the grimy piss-soaked floor of a rest stop bathroom, rather than sticking, much of this rotted meat falls away from the bone. While the fuzz bass sound in the slow section of “Womb of Deathless Deterioration” gives me a rigor mortis hard on and the musical interlude “Stifling Stagnant Reek” is a very gloomy and interesting respite, moments like that make the more workmanlike passages pale by comparison. In the six minutes of the title track where they balance nuance with barbarity to great effect elevate things to a level that I hope Morbific can further harness to a greater focus on outing four.

Like a B-level horror film, Bloom at its core delivers all the blood and guts, but not always the heart and soul. As a relatively new jockey in this race to the grave, Morbific still have plenty of time to hone their craft to that of a razor sharp serial killer on a decade long spree as opposed to a Floridian meth head that got pissed off he/she/they got kicked out of a Circle K and decided to do the Dance of the Machetes in D Minor. It’s my firm belief that great things are yet to come from this truculent triumvirate, but this time around, the flesh needs a little more time to putrefy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ujo Records
Websites: morbific.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbific
Releases Worldwide: April 21st, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Autopsy #BloomOfTheAbnormalFlesh #Carcass #DeathMetal #Discharge #FinnishMetal #Hemorrhoid #Impetigo #MeSacoUnUjoRecords #MiasmaticNecrosis #Morbific #Mortician #Pathologist #Pharmacist #Review #Reviews

For anyone into the "old school" #deathmetal, no collection would be complete without #Immolation, #Suffocation, and #Mortician, all from New York.

I just listened to Suffocation's most recent album, "Hymns from the Apocrypha." It is phenomenal. This is a great listen and the message emanating from the album is deep. The production is superb and all of the members pushed themselves
to the limit. These legends have been around since the beginning.

https://youtu.be/sgO6vl_vzhM

#music

Concert Calendar (12/13-12/20): Concert Tickets, the Perfect Gift – Moritcian, the Trans Siberian Orchestra, & more:

#ConcertCalendar #Mortician #TransSiberianOrchestra

https://metalinsider.net/touring/concert-calendar-12-13-12-20-concert-tickets-the-perfect-gift-moritcian-the-trans-siberian-orchestra-more

Brodequin – Harbinger of Woe [Things You Might Have Missed 2024]

By Kenstrosity

One of the earlier purveyors of brutal death, Tennessee trio Brodequin, established originally in 1998 and put on hiatus in 2008, reunited in 2015 after a seven-year break. Jan Van Lugtenburg filled in the percussive void in 2016 for a few years, ultimately tagging out for Brennan Shackelford in 2020. Rounded out by founding brothers Mike (Guitars) and Jamie (Bass, Vocals) Bailey, Brodequin worked diligently on crafting their fourth brutal assault of groovy death. Harbinger of Woe is the result, and it might very well be the best thing they’ve put to tape so far.

Brodequin embodies a certain niche of brutal death that recalls the ways of olde, yet remains timeless in their hands. Treading similar ground to long-standing acts like Disgorge, Defeated Sanity, and Mortician, Brodequin swing way harder into the straightforward, no-nonsense, and grinding groove whose sole purpose is bodily harm. Unlike some of their peers, who decorate their monoliths with progressive experimentation, slimy slams, or technical wizardry, Brodequin min-maxxed their sharp hooks skill tree. With Harbinger of Woe, Brodequin unleash a rare album that isn’t doing anything new, nor is it attempting acrobatic feats of songwriting to challenge the genre or its fans, yet it feels fresh and exciting simply for being an unfuckwithable example of the style.

Even so, Harbinger of Woe offers small deviations from the brutal template that help it stand out. “Theresiana” piques my interest immediately with an unexpected dalliance with Gregorian chants. How that fits in with subterranean gurgles and a guitar tone most closely resembling steaming hot asphalt pouring into my ear, I can’t explain. Yet, it fits perfectly. Elsewhere, Brodequin integrate the kind of buttery smooth transitions that I sooner associate with more melodic acts’ output than this unrelenting violence. “Fall of the Leaf,” album highlight “Of Pillars and Trees,” “Maleficium,” and “Suffocation in Ash” make traditional brutal death sound almost ebullient, boasting grin-inducing grooves and bouncy trem-picked embellishments that get my booty shaking on reflex. Stitching the album together across a lean and mean thirty-one minutes, Harbinger of Woe unloads a metric ass-ton of riffs and percussive runs that defy the law of diminishing returns. Many, if not all, of Harbinger of Woe’s tracks sound cut from the same shank of flesh, but Brodequin constantly rearrange their shared anatomy with such grotesque, mutagenic creativity that each iteration feels like a whole new kind of monster (“Diabolical Edict,” “Vredens Dag”).

In the end, this mad science of mercilessly rearranging Harbinger of Woe’s DNA makes for an unqualified success. Without requiring a wide cross-section of influences or techniques, Brodequin extracted remarkable variety from what is, in essence, a surprisingly limited toolkit. Not the result of inexperience or a lack of ideas, Brodequin’s restricted matrix feels intentional. Instead of showcasing unlimited skillsets, Brodequin pared down, perfecting each and every element to is peak form. Then, they stitched them together in the only sequence that makes sense.

Best of all, it takes no time to recognize and appreciate that level of perfectionism. For something so filthy and gritty, Harbinger of Woe is staggeringly accessible and immediate. At the same time, I never tire of it, and it only gets better with age. Simply put, Harbinger of Woe is the product of flawless execution. Don’t miss it!

Tracks to Check Out: “Diabolical Edict,” “Theresiana,” “Of Pillars and Trees,” “Maleficium”

#2024 #AmericanMetal #Brodequin #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #DefeatedSanity #Disgorge #HarbingerOfWoe #Mortician #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2024

I residenti del pittoresco villaggio di Potters Bluff (motto: "A new way of life") fanno una serie dei delitti veramente efferati per puro divertimento, e sono bravissimi a tenerli nascosti, facendo impazzire il detective locale che - nonostante il suo "master in criminologia" - se la fa fare sotto il naso da tutt*, pure dalla moglie (Melody Anderson, la Gale Arden di "Flash Gordon"), trasformata in uno zombi assassino ma casalinga perfetta fino all'ultimo.

Uno dei ruoli principali è del simpatico #mortician del paese che imbalsama con molto amore i numerosi cadaveri che gli portano più o meno integri. Clip citato nel disco: "Welcome to Potters Bluff" + urla del malcapitato che viene arso vivo mentre i locals gli fanno un sacco di foto.

"La zona del Crepuscolo" (#DylanDog #7) è ispirato a questo film.

Ok, ho deciso che nei prossimi giorni vedrò tutti i film citati nel disco "Darkest Day of Horror" dei #Mortician (2003).

Essi sono:
1. Curtains
2. The Serpent and the Rainbow
3. Pieces
4. I Spit on Your Grave
5. Dead & Buried
6. Zombi 2
7. Frightmare
8. Ghosthouse
9. The Initiation
10. Cannibal Girls
11. Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice (e pure Children of the Corn I a questo punto)

Può ben essere che io mi stufi nel corso di questa specie di maratona, vi terrò aggiornat* o forse no, non so...

Fulci – Duck Face Killings Review

By Steel Druhm

Italian brutal death metal/horror synthwave act Fulci are one of the weirder groups lurking in the extreme metal scene. With a deep, abiding love of Italian horror cinema and especially the work of Lucio Fulci, these denizens of splatterporn always strived to serve two masters. On the one hand, they set out to deliver grotesque old school death metal capable of caving in skulls and removing scalps. On the other, they fetishize the creepy vibe of the late 70s/early 80s Italian horror era and want to load everything down with dated synthscapes akin to Goblin. Blending these disparate styles has proven challenging for the band. Where the mix was quite effective on 2019s Tropical Sun, approximating the mood and tension of Fulci’s classic Zombie (Zombi 2 outside the U.S.), the half-death and half-synth split on 2021s Exhumed Information was odd and not entirely successful. Now we get Duck Face Killings, which is one of the worst titles ever with a concept based on the infamously grim Fulci film, The New York Ripper. That nasty piece of celluloid featured taunting phone calls from the titular ripper who spoke in a bizarre Donald Duck accent for unknown reasons. To nail the film’s dark mood, Fulci once again includes a treasure trove of soundbites and synthwave noodling alongside reliably pig-faced brutal death metal that dwells in the crawlspace between Suffocation and Barnes-ersa Cannibal Corpse. Are you ready to give a duck?

When Fulci put their best blood-drenched foot forward, they can make an impression. Opener “Vile Butchery” is such a moment, going all in on early Cannibal Corpse-style excess full of crushing grooves, sub-sub-basement wrenching, and chugs beefy enough to turn a vegan into a rabid cannibal. It’s military grade caveman death heavy enough to kill your neighbor’s sod installation, and it’s good fun. As it slowly fades out, you get cheeseball synth interlude “A Blade in the Dark” which feels like something Nightsatan left in the sun too long. This in turn shifts back into brutal death territory for the charming “Fucked With a Broken Bottle.” It’s decent but doesn’t stimulate the anger centers of my ape brain. The lurching from ugly to cheesy is the hallmark of Duck Face Killings. It tries to approximate the experience of fleeing a sadistic maniac through a sleazy 1980 version of Times Square, but it feels scattered and uneven due to the infusion of out-of-synch interludes.

The album’s weirdest moment arrives with “Knife” which opens with a rapper in the vein of Mike Shinoda (Linkin Park) backed by heavy, sludgy riffs. Imagine “In the End” with an unexpected home invasion by an axe-wielding Corpsegrinder and you’ll get a sense of the overall weirdness. I give them credit for doing something new, but it doesn’t work for me at all. Luckily, the album goes on a lengthy run of straight-up death metal from there with “Slashereality” providing thrashing, pummeling horrors, and personal favorite “Rotten Apple” bringing the duckhammer down with slammy riffs and mouth-breathing, Suffocation-esque heaviness. The problem is that the meat n’ taters of the Fulci experience is about death metal, and only a few tracks offer good, brain-shaking examples of it. There are three or four solid nuggets here, but none rise much past good. There are also a few that feel generic and nondescript (“Fucked With a Broken Bottle,” “Human Scalp Condition”). When you add in the synthwavey, soundbitey vignettes, third-tier rap, and the odd instrumental closer featuring mournful saxophone wailing, it makes the 32 minutes of Duck Face Killings feel like a bizarre conversation piece rather than an album you’ll return to regularly.

Fiore Stravino does his gruesome best to vomit brutality in every color imaginable over the course of the album. His basic death croak is very effective, though I’m not a fan of the piggy, garbage disposal bits he lapses into. These end up more comedic than extreme and hurt the dark mood the album curates. His La-La-La moments during “Human Scalp Condition” elicit chuckles every time and derail an already underwhelming track. Domenico Diego and Ando Ferraiuolo manage some solid riffs and big grooves, and when they hit their stride you get respectable moments of weighty riffery. The occasional melodic flourishes are nice but underutilized. Sadly, a good portion of their repertoire revolves around basic chugs and grooves and these get tedious. Ultimately it’s the writing that lets Fulci down most, as the overall quality of the music isn’t consistently memorable.

Duck Face Killings is the kind of album you appreciate more for what it tries to do rather than what it actually accomplishes. I like Fulci and I like the concept, but the music itself isn’t good enough to make me come back again and again. I’ll savagely rip out the best parts for playlists and dump the bloody remains in the NYC harbor, just like the New York Ripper would. Snitches get stitches, duckface!

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: 20buckspin.bandcamp.com/album/duck-face-killings | facebook.com/fulciband
Releases Worldwide: August 9th, 2024

#25 #20BuckSpin #2024 #Aug24 #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #DuckFaceKillings #Fulci #ItalianMetal #Mortician #Review #Reviews #Suffocation

:lobster: Dear friends of a cold and fiesty #mourning,

Definitely frosty here. Car across the road is frozen to #Daath. Rigour #Mortician has set in. I had a breakfast swiss platt and #porridge, pot of tea and am warmed up by #peoples #kindness to demon #lobsters and other #nuaghtinesses.

Here are some obvious FAQs for thee:

• a wing and a prayer is how the fediverse works
• we are not only dino elephants
• eat the Greens, vegans taste of chicken :ablobcouple:

… wait a minute those are not FAQs … ah ha I am an #Alchemist and Truth is a lie … and sure am naughty … :ablobdancer:

Great Sunday essay in the Spinoff, great art by my pal @doctorears.

#thespinoff #writing #hospital #orderly #mortician
https://thespinoff.co.nz/the-sunday-essay/26-11-2023/the-sunday-essay-ward-13

#Mortician uses a dummy to show every step a #body goes through at a #funeralhome

https://boingboing.net/2023/11/22/mortician-uses-a-dummy-to-show-every-step-a-body-goes-through-at-a-funeral-home.html

A quotation from Mencken, H. L.:

«
The majority always has its way in the end. So does the undertaker. But neither gains in pleasantness by the fact.
»

Full quote, sourcing, notes:
https://wist.info/mencken-hl/64367/

#quote #quotes #quotation #inevitability #majority #mortician #undertaker #unpleasantness

When she was just 11 years old, Jasmine Berrios realized she wanted to spend the rest of her life making the deceased look presentable. It was after she‘d met an embalmer at a family party, who asked her, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” #mortician #hollywoodforever https://lataco.com/latina-mortician-career-hollywood-influencer

Trade card of Richard Middleton, coffin maker and undertaker - 19th century.

#histodons #histodon #funeral #undertaker #funeralscience #mortician #history