NYC’s Flourishing offer but three songs, but clobber you on EP ‘Intersubjectivity’

This week isn’t over yet? You mean with an election, a relatively childish aftermath by so many people, and a killer work week that there still is time left? That makes my desire to weave beautiful poetry about music sort of fleeting. It’s not that I don’t care. I do. I just want to get on with it, so let’s go.

There’s no reason to go all philosophical and essay-like anyway about a three-track EP, even one packed with such violent demolition as the new one from Flourishing. Let’s not piss around. We got to know these three NYC-based fellows on their 2010 EP “A Momentary Sense of the Immediate World” and awesome 2011 debut full-length “The Sum of All Fossils,” and almost as if intending to capitalize on that madness, they pick right up where they off on “Intersubjectivity,” this dizzying, industrially brutal, face-bruising collection that gets better with each listen.

I can rattle off a list of bands you might hear traces of when you take on this record: Helmet, Tombs, Portal, Godflesh. None perfectly summarizes the madness within, but my guess is a fan of any of those bands will find something to like on “Intersubjectivity.” Flourishing are brutal, no doubt, and there are hints of death metal, hardcore, doom, and sludge in what they do, but everything gets a nice coating of glass shards and sand that suffocates the whole thing and really dirties up the production. That, of course, is not a criticism. It makes the music that much more sweltering and swarming, with the noise coating your ears in madness and systematic punishment.

Flourishing is comprised by only three dudes, which is astonishing since it sounds like 50 furious robots made this noise. Guitarist/vocalist Garrett Bussanick, bassist Eric Rizk, and drummer Brian Corcoran wield their instruments like mighty battle weapons and make enough volume for a handful of bands. Their emotional output and complete meltdown musically is the thing from which burial dreams are made. Only you’re not underneath dirt, but a hundred million pounds of smoking steel.

“A Living Sundial” opens the EP like industrial smokestacks hacking pollution into your lungs, as the fellows play with a machine-like precision, Bussanick’s vocals take on an infernal growl, and the piece delves into hopeless, sooty doom. The path is harsh and unforgiving, and the music has no other goal than to maul you beyond recognition. “The Petrifaction Lottery” somehow achieves a level of madness even greater than the opener. The song is abrasive, vocals harsh and inhuman, and oddly enough, toward the end a beam of spacey beauty shoots through, riding a brainy prog wave. And then it’s strangled. The closing title cut opens with a thick bassline and near-tribal drumming, before a rather interesting melody slips in, sludgy, world-ripping riffs erupt, and the whole thing takes on a tunneling heaviness. It sounds like a drill boring its way into the Earth, looking for magma, and the tortured screams and shouts indicate the music has accomplished that mission. It all melts away into caustic glory that leaves your body a pile of ash.

It’s a small dose of thunder from Flourishing (though it’s more than 20 minutes), but it’s also a nice stopgap before album No. 2. The band is as fiery and damaged as any others out there, and they seem to be tapping into their potential as a unit. They’ll damage your hearing and psyche and probably have a lot of fun doing it.

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