The album cover art might come from the old school of having your slightly talented friend who really wants to do something for the band draw the picture for the cover, but the music itself is more of a post-modern blasting and grinding romp through the grave yard of the many dearly departed death metal acts who no longer tour the world, but clearly shaped it so bands like Vomitory could exist. Chris Barnes rules the vocal influence while much of the overall style comes screaming out of Death’s “Scream Bloody Gore” debut, but with added ferociousness and speed. Maybe I don’t have the ear for this kind of screeching, pedal to the metal blood encrusted musical terrorism as I once did, but Vomitory is not a one in a million band. They are one of a million. It’s like collecting a series of baseball cards all of the same player in different poses. I’m sure every band wants to believe they bring something unique or tasty to the table, but in this land of way too many fucking cooks that just can’t happen and ultimately it starts to seem as if a burger connoisseur has to wade through an unsettling amount of White Castle Sliders before getting something big, meaty, bursting with crimson rivers of bloody flavor and just the right tangy mix of garlic, onion and seasonings. If Vomitory were food, they’d be called McVomitory.
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