Aborted have been spilling their guts since 1999, coughing up intoxicated, bilious and infectious platters of splatter at fairly frequent intervals of about two years, give or take, but with a longer than usual gap, ‘Global Flatline’ is to be spewed forth almost four years after their last discharge. But fear not, the festering pool of putrid puke is a repulsive joy.
What stands out first is the production. It’s not polished – it doesn’t need to be – but neither is it muddy. Thanks to the tweaked high end of the kick drum (an aspect that may displease some), the drums cut through and still manage to break several ribs at once with their sheer force. The guitars and the bass are bulky, their malodorous stench filling the air with a sound that is dense, deep, and utterly grisly. And the harsh, growling vocals have their own space in the mix, allowing them to add further bulk to the heaving mass. Death and grind combine in the stomach-churning, flesh-tearing riffs, the palpitating rhythms and the rancid rants to produce a bunch of gruesome tracks that are as pungent as they are bruising. The (de)compositions are solid, the structures developed, and – as you’d probably expect – there’s a lot going on. The heady lead-work and technical passages complement the gutsy grind of the savage grooves, and the musicians work together to explore and exploit their abilities as musicians in every aspect. Besides surrounding himself with an almighty bunch of bruisers, sole-surviving original member Sven de Caluwé has asked Benighted’s Julien, The Black Dahlia Murder’ Trevor, Rotten Sound’s Keijo, and Misery Index’s Jason to further compound the pounding.
Every track throbs with death and grind depravity. The title track alone is merciless in its rusted razor riffs and bone-grinding arpeggios. This album of gravely contagious tracks ups Aborted’s game considerably, suturing brutality and melody into groove after groove (the closing riff of ‘Vermicular, Obscene, Obese’ is the absolute embodiment of groove). Pushing Aborted further into their own, ‘Global Flatline’ both retains and augments the band’s signature sound and will leave you twitching in a heap, the only sound being that of your deteriorating pulse. Fatal.
Review by Jason Guest
23rd Jan 2012
1) Omega Mortis; 2) Global Flatline
3) The Origin of Disease
4) Coronary Reconstruction
5) Fecal Forgery; 6) Of Scabs and Boils
7) Vermicular, Obscene, Obese
8) Expurgation Euphoria
9) From a Tepid Whiff
10) The Kallinger Theory
11) Our Father, Who Art of Feces
COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:
"Every track throbs with death and grind depravity."