Flesher - Tales of Grotesque Demise

Angry Metal Guy 40

It seems some young, untested acts are luckier in their friends than others. Indianapolis-based death upstarts, Flesher hit the streets with a bright and shiny debut adorned by the repellant art of the infamous Ed Repka and sporting a mastering job by none other than Dan “the MAN” Swanö. Adding to the star power, they got Devin Swank of Sanguisugabogg to pop by to drop some guest garbage disposal sounds. So does Tales of Grotesque Demise warrant all the unusual spotlight and attention? Well, I suppose that depends on just how unevolved you are personally. Because this is some seriously knuckle-dragging, caveman shit with nary an IQ point to spare. Imagine Jungle Rot on a forced dietary regime consisting solely of Guatemalan insanity pepper suppositories and you’re starting to get an idea of what’s inexorably coming your way. Fight or flight? Your call.

Too late! After a requisite creepy intro, the grand flattening begins in earnest with the molar-shaking “Wisconsin 3.” It’s a dazzling cacophony of ginormous, weighty death grooves designed to bully the refined aspects of the brain. Mostly mid-tempo with spikes of violence, it’s like having an Abrams tank parked on your chestal regions and there’s no respite from the fat grooves and chugs. If death metal had a maximum weight allowance, this would exceed it by 12.7 cargo shorts. Taken as a standalone entity, “Wisconson 3” is enjoyable enough in its beefy brainlessness. However, there are still 33-odd minutes of the same raw meat smoothie for you to guzzle down. Up the cups, poser! “Scroll of Thoth” weaves in snakey Morbid Angel flourishes and counterpoints them with Cannibal Corpse-esque curb stomping for one of the album’s high points and a glimpse into Flesher’s potential in all its fatuous glory. The ominous doom segments add an extra ton to the scales and show Flesher mean nasty biness.

The problem is how aggressively one-note Flesher’s approach is. Yes, even in the Neanderthal world of caveman death metal, things can sometimes get too simplistic, and songs like “Creature Beast” are a chuggy wuggy train ride to Sameyville with no transfers allowed. Even Paul Breece’s hideously corrosive, sub-basement gurgles can’t sustain interest when you’ve been slapped with the same basic chugs as long as “Creature Beast” does, and things just get stupid by the song’s merciful end. And as soon as “Creature” ends, “The Gates” begins pummeling you with a different chug for the next several minutes and even the stoutest death enthusiast will feel their sanity begin to fray by the album’s midpoint. “No Escape” is the worst offender, spamming you for nearly 6 minutes with a collection of highly generic death grooves that could have been found in a garbage bag outside any of Six Feet Under’s recording studios. Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah. Want more of that sentence? Then this album might be for you! With one setting and one approach, the 36-minute runtime feels way longer and I’m struggling to keep up by the 17-minute mark. There’s also bad bloat on several tracks where the nonstop chugs get extended into near-infinity, and you will know true suffering. While I’m a big Swanö supporter, I can’t really say I’m all that impressed with the production. It feels overly loud and bricked, which makes listening even more of a challenge. The guitars do carry great weight and power though, and that power is not used responsibly.

Paul Breece handles guitar and vocals. He’s a gifted death metal growler and exhibits an impressive range of roars, grunts, and wretches. Some of his delivery truly feels like a broadcast from the Ninth Circle of Hell and he clearly commits his all to the effort. Guitar-wise he delivers interesting color and flourishes at times, mining Azagthoth-esque terrors and delving into Incantation-adjacent caverns of disgust, but far too often he sticks to these utterly meatheaded chug grooves to the point where it starts to feel like a parody of death metal itself. There needs to be more diversity from track to track and even within the tracks themselves to keep attention focused. On the plus side, ex-Skeltonwitch drummer Dustin Boltjes does all he can to add interest and energy in his performance and I frequently ended up focusing on his playing as the grooves tried to smooth out my brain wrinkles.

Flesher have a big, fat, hairy sound, and like the mythical ogre, that sound is not smart. I love my death metal as stupid as the next stupid death fan, but Tales of Grotesque Demise too often veers into brain-dead territory where drool is the only by-product. Maybe the fact that I was Covid-positive while marinating in Flesher’s ponderous output colored my reaction. Maybe a healthier, more vibrant Steel would find big stupid fun amongst the vast sea of chugs. I guess we’ll never know. In summary, piledriving is a lifestyle choice and this thing will certainly pile-drive you if nothing else.



Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Redefining Darkness
Website: flesher1.bandcamp.com/album
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2023

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