I’ve never been to Australia, it’s one of those places that has a brutal and fascinating history, and every animal can kill you in some sort of painful manner. In some way I picture Writhing as a giant, carnivorous Hell Beast with fire in its empty eye sockets; a brain fueled by insane hatred and malice powering two hundred and fifty pounds of walking death, laying waste to everything in its unholy path. However, even in it’s destruction, this sonofabitch has gracefulness and restraint.

“Monolithic Extinction” is the mouth of this creature, a soft lick of the rotting tongue before the fangs sinks in with seething blast beats gnashing and tearing with the sickest fucking riff to keep the attack measured. It doesn’t let up, it has you by the face now with “That Which Becomes Death” and starts eating away into chest cavity and digging deep into “Of Earth & Flesh”. These tracks pull you further into the belly of the beast as “Passages of Misery” lulls your dying brain into a trance before the digestion process begins with “Squalid Sanctum”, a four-minute rip ride into the finality of “Portal to Unhallowed Realms”.

In a year that has seen some devastating Death Metal albums, debuts and established bands releasing new material, Writhing has slashed open their place and taken a seat at the table, sporting the most done within three and a half minutes to the longest at four and a half, these three psycho motherfuckers are hungry as the creature described. I used the word buttonhole in an earlier review, and I think I can get away with it here, too. Because that’s what happens with originality and passion for the music, Writhing has created a beast of an album that drips with Incantation and Krisiun-level violence, a brutal home for fans of all things savage and unhinged.

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