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Parricide |
| by:
Vinnie Apicella
What do you get when you
combine Napalm-like aggression, images of dread painted black by
indecipherable vocals and played by beings with unpronounceable names?
Right, another dissident aggressor from the still developing but fast
approaching Polish Death scene. In fact, Parricide's history is one of
great length, having originated in the formative years of Eastern-Euro
Death with the likes of revered countrymen Vader, and at the time when
the scene was taking its first squinty-eyed peer from the abyss. While
there've been denizens who've solidified themselves as clear leaders of
the field - the Vader's, Deicide's, Hypocrisy's, and the many new level
technical ascenders, there are far less who've survived the ultimate
weeding of the weak, instead turning to the considerably friendlier
climes under the autumn moon languishing somewhere between blood and
tears. Out of spite Parricide's evidently dropped the song lyrics in
tribute to the short-lived Pawel Brozek, ex-lyricist, current shitlist
card carrier, and with him, any semblance of a fighting chance to know
what the Hell's going on here. Musically speaking, as if there were
another way, the riffs are powerful and primordial, riding the well worn
trailways of programmatically fast sounding beats through the lifeless
remains previously footed by the early Bolt Throwers, Deaths, and
Cannibals, scaling technically taut and harmonic tradeoffs, slightly,
but not severely, offsetting a blistering but bounded frame that's often
devoid of directionality. "Slavers Of Infirmity" and "One Step To
Deviation," or was it "Deranged," offer plenty of progressive intent and
stand forth as highlights among an exceptionally low-tuned bottom fed
production, but save for their inspired and individualistic closing
cover of the Corpse-classic "Hammer Smashed Face," it's a too traveled
path of least resistance making for an overall tiresome listen. The
blinding power and the courageousness behind the skillful brutality will
rouse the ire of even the slightest skeptic, without question; and where
velocity and virtuosity meet and exchange knowing winks, Parricide
remains a man among men. But through the course of things, redundancy
sets in often enough to beg the question of whether the band really did
leave it all on the table or if "Ill-Treat" suffers an insecurity felt
through the departure of the many previous inactives then they'd care to
let on.
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