Review: Razoreater ‘Purgatory’
There are many things I love about grindcore, not least the fact that it’s often at its best when it doesn’t outstay its welcome. There’s nothing quite like a brief but effective aural assault to set you up for the day and the latest release from Cambridgeshire-based grinders Razoreater is exactly that.
Purgatory is the band’s first release in five years and marks their 10th anniversary in suitably hard-hitting style. Right from the fury-fuelled attack of opener I Despise Us, it’s clear that Razoreater have been anxiously chomping at the bit throughout lockdown, climbing the walls of their practice space, desperate to let loose their pent-up frustrations on the world.
It scarcely lets up from thereon in, thanks to the powerful and raging vocal assault of Mors, and Luke‘s precision blast-beat pummelling that both bring to mind Terrifier-era Pig Destroyer and the stop-start assault of Yacopsae at their most deadly. Indeed, there’s nothing on this frantic release that can be called respite, and Purgatory is all the better for it. Nevertheless, the dirt-filled grooves laid out at the end of One Last Nail go a long way to scratching my Celtic Frost itch, resulting in a dynamic change of gear that helps give this release a scope that belies its EP duration.
the perfect soundtrack to contemplate our respective bleak futures…
There’s a welcome (certainly for me, anyway) helping of dark menace in there too, most noticeably on Cursed Are The Merciful and Vittu Saatana Perkele, both of which showcase some skilfully crafted and effectively executed riffs from Stephen and Jona (guitar and bass respectively). Elsewhere on the EP, End This Hell boasts a made-for-the-pit closing skank that’s destined to get the floor moving when the band get back to playing shows, while sub-minute face-ripper Set Fire To The Preacher is as uncompromising and confrontational as its name would have you believe.
Nihilistic closer There Is No More Hope is somewhat of an epic for a grindcore track, clocking in at over three and a half minutes. That said, it opens with all the ferocity of Rotten Sound at their furious best, before eventually leaving us with some introspective, droning and feedback-laiden noise – the perfect soundtrack to contemplate our respective bleak futures to.
Label: FHED Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Instagram
Scribed by: Simon Brotherton
