Ominous Ruin’s technical power, furious brutality open up fresh wounds with crushing ‘Requiem’

Photo by Catalino (Kitty) Alvarez

Technical death metal, especially the brutal kind, never really lit a fire under me for some reason. Nothing against the form, it just never was one that got me excited, even if I could appreciate the prowess it took the play that brain-bending of a style. But I don’t toss it outright as I like to keep an open mind, and sometimes something just works for me.

“Requiem” is the second record from San Francisco-based crushers Ominous Ruin, and it is one that flattened me from the start. Their latest beast and first in four years certainly is creative as fuck, and never in ways where they disappear up their own assholes. It’s more about the song than the musical wizardry display. Over the course of nine mammoth tracks, the band—vocalist Crystal Rose, guitarists Alex Bacey and Joel Guernsey, bassist Mitch Yoesle, drummer Harley Blandford—generally gets in, makes a violent point, and gets out. They economically spend 40 minutes unleashing turmoil and destruction, putting you through a mental and physical meat grinder.

“Intro,” a nod to the end of their debut album “Amidst Voices That Echo in Stone,” is gentle and shimmering, keys dripping and inviting you warmly, giving no hint to the carnage ahead. That arrives on “Seeds of Entropy” that attacks right from the start, Rose’s inhuman growls peeling away, sometimes accompanied by manic shrieks (not unlike the late Trevor Strnad) while the band drills you with technical pyrotechnics and gutting heaviness. Rubbery bass wraps around your skull while the nastiness is amplified a million times before ending. “Eternal” delivers charred guitars and guttural growls, like right from the pit of the stomach, the tempo stabbing and twisting muscle, heading into a massive storm. The playing remains burly as guitars snarl and the vice tightens its grip, choking you out. “Bane of Syzygial Triality” is a brief, mystical instrumental with guitars soaring through your headspace, spilling into “Divergent Anomaly” that lands blows from the start. Growls maul as the playing gets increasingly aggressive, burrowing deep into your psyche. Deep growls and scathing guitars send flashes as a delirious, disorienting pathway robs you of your sanity and piles boulders on top of you.

“Fractal Abhorrence” dawns with synth spirals as things go calm as the bass swells, and then brutal howls tear through flesh. “It’s all a fucking joke!” Rose wails as the temperatures rise dangerously, making breathing and moving a chore. “Architect of Undoing” starts serenely before a gargantuan stomp, creative bursts sending colors flying, the growls smashing with an attacking agenda. The playing is so intense it’s almost carnival-like, tricking you into thinking this is mere playfulness when you can’t see the blade behind you. There are mystical turns as the keys play a bigger role, guitars tingle, and demonic growls spill acid on wounds. “Staring into the Abysm” has guitars flooding and the punishment welling, zany leads diverting your attention, darkened undertones rearing their head, fading, and bleeding away in clean melodies. Closer “Requiem” is vicious and fast, blinding as guitars dart, and raspy growls loosen bones from joints. The attack dizzies as the drama increases, feeling like your brains are spilling from your skull, destroying and speeding until you’re fully out of breath.

Ominous Ruin obviously are very accomplished players, and while this style isn’t one toward which I normally gravitate, “Requiem” is undeniable in its strength and chaotic energy. It’s a nine-track stormfront that locks on and refuses to let go, dragging you through neck-splitting twists and turns, leaving you gasping on the other side. This is a bruiser, one that shows musical tenacity but also a blood-pumping heart. 

For more on the band, go here: https://ominousruin.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://willowtip.com/bands/details/ominous-ruin.aspx

For more on the label, go here: https://willowtip.com/home.aspx