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Ulcerate
« Of Fracture and Failure »
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1 | Praise and Negation 04:14
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| 2 | Ad Nauseam 03:40
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| 3 | The Mask of the Satyr 06:33
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| 4 | Becoming the Lycanthrope 04:14
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| 5 | To Fell Goliath 03:47
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| 6 | Martyr of the Soil 07:34
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| 7 | Failure 02:53
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| 8 | The Coming of Genocide 03:38
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| 9 | Defaeco 08:42
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| | Total playing time: 45:15 |
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Ben Read - vocals
Michael Hoggard - guitars
Michael Rothwell - guitars
Paul Kelland - bass
Jamie Saint Merat - drums |
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| Praise and Negation
Blame tarred with cursed ivory brush
Halos to sever heads of those below
Two millennia with faded words to burn
Fall to your knees or immolate your soul
Lungs filled with black
Cough of the wretched
I can taste the soot on my tongue
Deny the idle threats of those |
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Брутальный дэт успешно играют и в Новой Зеландии – к такому выводу я пришел после прослушивания дебютного полноформатника тамошней группы Ulcerate под названием «Of Fracture and Failure». Сразу же следует сказать о внушительном плотном звучании и насыщенности зверской музыки, исполняемой почти всегда в небыстром, но беспокойном темпе. Гитары крушат все направо и налево, отличаясь приятной хаотичностью, а временами накрывают пеленой протяжных, а иногда и кажущихся ленивыми мелодий. Ударник, видимо, творчески неуравновешенный человек, его игра с уклоном в импровизацию напомнила мне Gorguts: ритм рваный, бластбиты крайне непродолжительны и буквально через секунду сменяются сбивками другого рода, к тому же он мастерски управляется с тарелками. Я ждал совершенно другого вокала от брутал-дэта, но вокалист решил мешать гроулинг со скримингом. Что ж, его право. Технические показатели в порядке и способность мыслить нестандартно (правда, до них так уже подумали) у музыкантов в наличии, так что все 9 композиций группа будет держать вас в напряжении. Да, это вам не просто постукивание по голове, это изощренное кромсание мозга аудиопутями. Ближайшие, кстати говоря, аналогии – Immolation, если осмелеть, можно назвать и сакральное имя Gorguts. Что затрудняет восприятие, так это то, что музыка невероятно насыщенная и песни трудно отличимы на слух. Тем не менее, во второй половине альбома ярко выделяется инструментал (условно) “Failure”, оставляющий грустный осадок в душе. Вязкий дэтовый риффинг смолкает, расчищая пространство для аккуратной инструментальной разминки, напоминающей пост-рок: одиноко звучащая гитара, сдержанный бас и ювелирная, без излишеств, работа ударника (эпизодически всплывает приглушенный скримовый вокал). А в заключительном номере музыканты показали себя прилежными учениками Nile, сыграв эпическое гитарное соло под медленный темп остальной музыки. |
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просмотров: 10119 |
For deceit and dreams ofen are one
This skewed reality, dizzying and sweet
Open hands to trap the moth
Corrupt veins pump soured blood
The trap is set, poison awash
Heads to turn for the promises betray
Chisel to stone with the world to pay
With the eyes to the sky, faith begat misery
With eyes to the sky, the world shall burn away
I rise, for I can stand alone
Ad Nauseam
Bound and gagged
Yet professing the importance of these putrid regurgitations
Dangling above the precipice
Fate, tragic and deserved, lies below
Vacuous and nightmarish
Docile and servile
Kiss that which feeds and fucks
Devoured, defiled
We hang
Choking ourselves on this rank vomit
Seems we can't get enough
Gorging on this stale repetition
For time does not exist to us
And when the gag is removed, sodden and rancid
Mouths will remain agape
Like baby birds, trusting and needy
Even as the rope is cut
Dead eyes long for the normality
Long for the masochism
And set free the sadist in us all
Open wide because this better be worth it
The Mask of the Satyr
Cut away and start again
Cross out these serpentine eyes
Milk them for all they're worth
Shatter the white with jane doe hammers
Slay the beast with three billion heads
Through noise and movement, filth is revealed
I can smell the decaying musk
Stale breath reeks of lust and violence
And shaking hands reveal the rest
For I am nausea
From you to me
A new slate is needed for this cannot be cleaned
Insight crawls, drunk and bruised
Deep within the leaden grey
But majority rules with iron fist
So swallow the blood and cover the face
To turn the other cheek
Or cut it open and rip out the tongue
For now and for this
Forgiveness is rot
I'd trade it all for a chance to mend
To kill, to cleanse, to purge, to end
Loathing saturates, sour and foul
Only to be eclipsed by the sorrow
To cut away those close and near
Pull back the hammer and let it swing
Let it swing
Becoming the Lycanthrope
Revelation or annihilation
The futile and the fanatics
That is all we are
With scalpel incisions and flapping tongues
Bury the limbs of the hopeless
Clambering onto the funeral pyre, overwhelmed
Sacrifice and sedition
Let the ashes of our cancer rise
To be inhaled by the congregation
Carry your doctrine into the flames
Or swallow it whole and exit the wake
As the smoke blackens the horizon
Revel in your decision (delusion)
As the inferno turns to embers
Breathe in the essence of despair
Piss on the ash and the bones of the dead
Laugh and rejoice as the black turns blood red
But your carnivorous smile betrays
Revealing the teeth that will devour us all
A grin to mark the end of days
To Fell Goliath
Lynch the god of disease
And sever his wings
Hang him upon the red beneath the green
But the tyrants and sinners are waiting in line
And the mob is thinning and there is no time
With the blind masturbating the blind
The prophets are left with no one to lead
To fall on your sword
Or charge from the trench
Fall in to the black
Or choke their fields with our dead
Within the agony of the conscience
To gorge at the trough or to starve to death
Aversion of truths or affirmation of life
History to live or history to end
With the pinnacle past and crevice below
To leave the concrete to crack and the steel to corrode
Turn your back on this den of murderous thieves
Or with stone in hand do we go for the head?
A chance to cripple, cut them off at the knee
A wrench in the works to fuck the machine
Failure
Let me hang here, till sleep
To end my nightmare, to let me dream
To lie beneath the soil, alone
To let the world grow old
The Coming of Genocide
Blackness, inside to out
Like a benign tumor turned terminal
Here we are at the dawn our conclusion
Penned, paid for and played out by us all
Seconds slow as we count down to death
Reflection eclipsed by blame to place
Fingers point in every direction
While resting on hair triggers
The gun is our callous indifference
The bullet is what we have become
We have fellated fate for far too long
Taste our infliction, and know that we were wrong
There is a beauty within this violent paradigm
And that lies with the inevitability of our end
Staring into the abyss of man
Empty, consumed, ruled by its dead hand
May the horror of human nature
Feed the horror of realization
Caskets for empires founded on fault lines
Caskets for empires
Defaeco
Brightest white, blinding
Angelic and rustic
The greatest beauty i've ever breathed
I for one know what this is
The great redeemer
Our bastard child
Let it rise
Standing aside the crippled dreamer
We begin to understand the design
And prepare to climb back into the womb
To be reborn as bone and ash
Absolution is all that remains
Swallow the truth and chase it with blame
In bliss, watch our smiles melt away
Wash us away, drowned in relief
Still and open for the first and last time
Repaid and returned
Let our blood mix with the soil
The earth soaked in us all
Our sorrow and our pardons
Now, my good friend, we are even
This is our end