The Human Race is Filth is a misery-inducing proposition from York, PA that put out a whole helluva racket on their second release, Liberate.  Barely even sticking around for 20 minutes this guitar/drums/vocals duo take the murderous grind of Phobia, Catheter and Disrupt, fatten it up with the oppressive punk thickness of Doom and His Hero is Gone before finally stuffing this lardy hog full of rotten West Coast sludge for a sloppy spit roasting.

Opener “Native Biological Warfare” emerges from a void of distorted vocals and scratching, scraping guitar noise that blows wide open into a dirtbag d-beat and alternating puked/screamed vocals that get beaten into overdrive by rushing blastbeats.  There’s hardly a chance to get a grip on any of the riffs or changes as the song is drug back to Hell in barely a minute n’ change.  Paul rips into a feedback squeal as Kasey lays into choppy, staggering blasting to kick off “Burning the Swines.”  The stop n’ go attack soon mounts a sludgy, gruel-drowned groove overflowing with big rotten riffage (in the key of Cavity/16) bolstered by a simple and crusty catchy, lice-infested chorus.  “Vein Full” feels like a sprawling epic at nearly 2 minutes in length and it’s built for a squatter circle pit with Swedish d-beat splintering off into rugged grind and molten detuned blues later on.  “Vein Full’s” immediate counterpart “Hung by Illusion” dangles from its teeth by very much the same high tension wires in the way that it combines punk, hyperdrive grind and city crumbling scum sludge into a tarry stew that would make numerous UK legends proud.

“Chain Game” grinds its initial tempo blast into a pulpy, noxious doom paste and outside of a random but sparing speed burst this one’s all heavily engorged slugcrawler rock.  Paul must be running his guitar through a bass rig or using a smattering of pedal effects to achieve a full low-end without the direct presence of the instrument itself.  “Capital Torture” maintains some sloth-y groove but it’s disgusting high/low vocal trades from both Paul and Kasey as well as an emphasis on reckless speed make it an entirely more violent and abusive animal to deal with than its predecessor.  THRIF caps off their record with a 3 and then a 2+ minute monster respectively.  “Slow March” lives up to its name by hobbling and limping over stumbling drunk sludge riffs and mold-huffing rhythms while continuously threatening to pick up the pace throughout without ever committing to such an act.  Lots of noisy, psychedelic FX covers the guitarwork with decaying, rippling static signals while the song itself marches straight into the abyss to never return.  Endnote “Concrete Soldier” is also not shy on mutant, spoiled milk instrumental density while peddling some speed freakouts and harder-driving grooves that push the song into blast abandon at the midpoint.

THRIF means business and anyone into the classic 80s/90s grind heyday mixed with hedonistic crust/sludge should give Liberate a spin.  It doesn’t reinvent the wheel and it doesn’t need to, because the writing, playing and production are pure and vintage examples of the style.  As far as recent bands go this record would go down great with a side of Multinational Corporations’ Jamat-al-Maut.  All-in-all a filthy release that takes me on a time warp back to the bands that got me into the hateful style into the first place.

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