Are you ready for the Necro Pummel? You damn well better be because on Pissed on Resurrectine Baton Rouge’s Slime in the Current brings it cold, hard and with extreme malice. What a great debut album from a band that formed in 2006, yet whose members have been in “several noteworthy musical projects with over 20 years of creating underground music under their belts.” You can damn sure tell these aren’t rookies making all this ashen black/death metal despondency and devastation.

More to the point, Pissed on Resurrectine is 53 minutes of buzzing, bleeding riffage that crosses underground black metal (more USBM than Norwegian) with Celtic Frost and Hellhammer ugliness, including a vocal style that recalls a bleaker, more understated Tom G. Warrior. I’ve got to be careful how I phrase this, but in general terms some of what is heard might also be described as a rotted out, more necro Goatwhore. Listen to “Feast for the Coming Storm” and you’ll hear it.

The first couple of listens come off like the intense winds, toxic dust, flying debris, and black rain suffered by thousands in Hiroshima just after the detonation of the atom bomb. The album’s first half in particular is a kind of relentless, punishing crush of swarming buzz riffs. Hell, there’s even a song called “Swarm.” The next few spins – and there will be more spins since this one keeps sucking you back in – reveal more depth and individuality in the songwriting, as evidenced by the quintessential example of the aforementioned Necro Pummel of “Creator of Ruin.” At various points you’ll hear distinct filth-grooves, riff stutters, droning bits, string-bent whines, and dissonant flourishes, all of which are driven by the penetrating, often staccato drumming. The compositional changeups aren’t necessarily in your face, but are no less impacting. A case in point is the rhythmic shift into quick two-beat patterns during “The Coal that Burns.”

When the violence does lessen it is only to make way for a slower, more sinister type of torturous burn, as exemplified by the descent into Hell that is the eight and half minutes of album-closer “Retained Hunger to Demoralize.” It is the death knell of humanity, the confiscation of man’s last breath. When it is all said and done, the hellishly harrowing trip into the abyss taken by the listener on Pissed on Resurrectine ends in piles of charred bodies and cities reduced to rubble. No matter how repulsive the aftermath, you’ll keep crawling back for more. Is that pathetic? Nah, it’s just dedicated.

[Visit the band's website]

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