Certain bands are so utterly possessed of their own cause, that any change would be as anathema to them as it would be to their fans. Such bands, albeit few and far between, tend to have back catalogues of startling consistency and so, while fans may have their favourites, you can almost reach in to extract any disc, knowing that you’ll be grabbing hold of quality. Death metal stalwarts Cannibal Corpse are one such band and so, on their fifteenth full-length offering, fans can be comfortably sure there will be no digressions into mid-tempo rock or country with which to contend. Reconvening with Erik Rutan (now a full member of the band and responsible for pretty much everything from Kill to the present, A Skeletal Domain aside), Cannibal Corpse are certainly in no mood for compromise, offering up eleven gut-wrenching blasts that satisfy the more, ahem, visceral tastes of their none-more-loyal loyal fanbase.
The album kicks off with the storming Murderous Rampage, and it’s clear that Cannibal Corpse remain as gloriously delinquent as ever. Pump up the volume and the guitars of Erik Rutan and Rob Barrett leap forth with razor sharp clarity. Of course, such instrumental savagery is equalled by the percussive bark of Corpsegrinder, as familiar to the death metal fan as Brian Johnson’s rasp is to a hard rocker. With Erik’s blistering lead work and Alex Webster’s churning bass firmly lodged in bowel-rupture territory, Murderous Rampage certainly sets the adrenaline flowing, and it makes for a suitably vicious album opener. The catchily titled Necrogenic Resurrection is up next, and it kicks off in hyper-aggressive style, the guitars panned hard left and right to create a dizzying maelstrom of sound. As both band member and producer, there’s no doubting that Erik knows exactly how to get the best of Cannibal Corpse, and there’s a raucous rawness to proceedings that is irresistible. Already released as a single (and if you’ve not seen the video, for goodness’ sake don’t open it up on a work PC), Inhumane Harvest is surprisingly catchy for something so irredeemably blunt, whilst the storming horror Condemnation Contagion is the sound of the zombie apocalypse brought thrillingly to life via a vocal performance from Corpsegrinder that is utterly devastating. As with Inhuman Harvest it’s oddly memorable despite the fact that it feels like the band are reaching into your chest cavity to give your organs a friendly little squeeze, and it takes a special kind of talent to make something so utterly brutal somehow feel accessible. The first half of the album is capped off with the gargantuan riffing of Survive, Kill, Devour, a slow-motion descent into madness, hammered into the consciousness by Paul Mazurkiewicz’s insanely tight percussive work.
Opening up the second half, Ritual Annihilation sees the band drop their heads and unleash the sort of menacing churn that, in less capable hands than Erik Rutan, might end up sounding like sonic soup. As it is, it’s the perfect representation of the band’s peerless musicianship, and it rocks like the dark-hearted motherfucker that it is. As disturbing instructions go, Follow The Blood is exactly the sort of thing you don’t want to be doing in the horror-strewn world that Cannibal Corpse inhabit; but let’s face it, you’re only hear for the unpleasantness, and this abounds in a track that takes delight in roaming across a number of tempos in search of the ultimate groove. An album highlight, Bound And Burned explodes from a shimmering cymbal and proceeds to tear the listener to pieces via the most aggressively unhinged solo breaks you’ve heard since Slayer packed up their gear. With a chugging riff that perfectly emulates the titular mode of death, Slowly Sawn is a gruelling dive into a chamber of horrors, delivered with Cannibal Corpse’s customary glee. The whiplash inducing grind of Overtorture sees the album continue to brutalise the listener even with one foot out the door and then we come to the cataclysmic finale of Cerements Of The Flayed, a multi-headed beast that moves from down-temp churn to serrated grind and back with little respect for your jangling nerve endings.
Let’s face it, if you’ve followed Cannibal Corpse over the years, you know what to expect from Violence Unimagined. The band are ferociously tight throughout; the production sits exactly on the axis between raw and refined and the tracks are surprisingly catchy when you consider just how malevolent they are. Wholesome bloody fun for all the family, Violence Unimagined is a damn good record from an exceptional death metal band – what’s not to love? 9
