Empire Of The Obscene
posted on 9/2008 By:
Unleash the cavalcade of clichés - there’s a kickass, unsigned band on the loose.
Boston, MA’s Revocation are running amok in the streets, naked if not for the ultra-sexy packaging they’ve shrink-wrapped themselves in. Artwork, logo, and production have all been professionally conformed to their figure an ultra-sexy, ultra-flattering way, and the seams are nearly bursting with the ludicrous amount of sublimely-techy talent that oozes from their pores. The band brings the goods and minimizes the fuckarounds, rendering this review an appropriate space to pontificate in the direction of the Willowtips and Prosthetics of the world. However, a measured analysis of today’s metallic climate shows that these independent dudes are on the right path, imprint be damned. Instead of tethering their sails to a ship of another’s control, Revocation have chosen to work out their kinks on their own terms, and self-releasing is a smart play. And despite their immense talent, there are kinks that need some ironing.
Make no mistake – fans of the super-modern, arched-eyebrow brand of technical death are going to get cuddly with Empire of the Obscene quite quickly. By applying an ample dollop of that Coroner/Anacrusis thrashcream to their Atheist/Cynic
However, from that point onward, the compositions seem to blur together somewhat. “None Shall Be Spared (All Shall Be Speared)” stands out, but largely because of the insane title. While in the process of flashing their skills, Revocation sacrifice memorability – a common mistake among young bands of this ilk. Also, the vocals of stringmen Anthony Buda and David Davidson don’t lend themselves to particularly brain-stickin’ harmonies and vocal hooks. The pseudo-Schuldiner rasps, melodeath barks, and occasional inward “or-eeeeeeeee!”s are well-handled, but not necessarily applied in a manner that facilitates maximized iconoclastic devastation.
So, that ‘kickass’ comment leveled in Line 1? Admittedly, it’s more in line with the band's talent and temerity than their ability to write skull-crushing anthems. If this were hyped as a “next big thing,” expectations would fall short. As it stands, however, Empire of the Obscene is an excellent display of chops, and a showcase for a band that’s brim-full of upside. Who cares if they are unsigned? They are making more waves than the Illogicists of the world, to be sure. And while their reach of distribution doesn’t match that of fucksticks like Blessed By A Broken Heart, there’s enough potential found on this record to predict a far, far brighter future. This trio is on to something, and if the wristlock reins are slightly tightened and the brainscrews are slightly loosened, that “something” could be pretty damn special.
And that logo absolutely kills. Kills.
Register to post comments.
Chaos of Forms
Existence Is Futile
Summon The Spawn