The Taste of Blood
Predator
7.1
Get yer lashing hat on kiddies, here’s yet more lumbering death metal tinged hardcore for fans of All Shall Perish, Animosity and Embrace the End (also all produced by rumble master Zach Ohren). Not as ‘grindy’ as Despised Icon or The Red Chord and not as melodically refined as Embrace the End, The Taste of Blood are all about seismic breakdowns, deep guttural vocals and a whole litany of exaggerated bass kick ins.
I’m not kidding, there are some truly sick, heavy assed moments here. Granted, they are sandwiched between some mildly mediocre death metally/metalcore-ish melodies and simplistic burly hardcore, but this album is truly about the bowel matter loosening moments of heaviness. It may be eye rolling to most sickened anti metalcore fan, but in girth alone The Taste of Blood made me rather happy and left a coppery taste in my mouth.
From brief aptly titled rumbling opener “Devastation” to the absolutely crushing finale of “Business Finds Pleasure” (a record for bass kick ins?), Predator lumbers with a simplistic forceful gait. There’s a few piecemeal uncreative, melodies thrown in (this is Tribunal after all) as tracks like “People Together at Night”, “I Guess That’s Why They Make Safety Pins” and “I’ve Stolen for Posters and Drawings” try to pepper the low end earthquakes with slightly forced solos, some grinding chaos, and galloping harmonies; they aren’t very convincing (especially compared to Embrace the End) and pretty much serve as interludes before the next sonic donkey punch. Luckily though, pretty much each song is redeemed by some utterly massive breakdowns. The kind of breakdowns that make your rectum prolapse and your eyes shoot out of their sockets; the kind of breakdowns that have you Ninja kicking your way your through a daycare center. Some do stand out though; “Signature Tattered Rags”, “Near Shack Experience”, “Kids in the Background of Every Picture” and the aforementioned “Business Finds Pleasure” which ends the album with a fucking devastating series of chest squeezing breakdowns.
Anyway, I am reaching a record number for using the ‘breakdown’ in a review and running out of superlatives to describe them. Compared to On Broken Wings recent, rather tired breakdown-fest, Predator stands head and shoulders above it just on the strength of the intensity alone. The songwriting score above does not really reflect the pummeling nature of the songs as in all honesty there's not much substance beyond the breakdowns, but boy do they make up for it.
Moshtastic.
