Aaah, more summery tales of lost love, finding love...and fucking dead bodies! Yep, Autopsy once again rob the graves of the infants to produce another clotted mass of downtuned gore metal which is so sincere in it's morbidity, that the sky will be raining mud for days. With an album cover, especially when you open out the inner sleeve, to have all you gore fiends festering, Reifert and co turn the air green and bring ooze, pus and urine from the speakers with their unique blend of doomy death and gargantuan plod, it really is fetid stuff, rumbling like some guttural demon from the bowels of the dirtiest, grimiest sewer, only occasionally picking up pace when the solo's of Corrales and Cutler decide to wander aimlessly away from the flesh-rotting grumble. No other band vomits like Autopsy, 'Meat', 'Necrocannibalistic Vomitorium', 'Pus/Rot' and 'Orgy In Excrements' are beautifully torturous odes to zombiefication, necrophilia, depravity, sleaze and insanity, and although quite tongue in cheek the bleakness of the experience doesn't make this a comedy of terrors, but instead Autopsy paint very grey portraits of death, mutilation, laceration and copulation, sordidly puked from the speakers, leaving the sicko's gagging for more. This record will please happy-go lucky pop fans like a clamp on the testicles.
7.5/10
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