Calling your band Filth is a pretty big swing. It’s bold in that it uses an everyday word instead of some strange moniker that might stick in your mind easier. It also puts expectations on their music though they’re pretty straightforward with what you can anticipate. This is death metal that maintains its warts and wounds.
The Swedish trio—vocalist/drummer Per, guitarist/bassist Sebastian, guitarist Ismael—is here to push your face into the gutter, and their hammering second record “Death Exhibition” is as ideally titled as the band. Over 10 tracks, the chaos that unfurls is rooted in early death metal, the grime and madness welling up in your throat and trying to choke you to the ground. But it isn’t just caveman shit here as the band also possesses a generous amount of ability they display early and often, adding some brains to the battery.
“Intro” has noise boiling and a weirdly cinematic scape, moving into “Split Casket” that trudges before growls erupt. We’re neck deep into a death grind, battering and snarling, crushing with force as the guitars stagger. The heated pace continues and buries, the bass flexes, and everything ends with a spike piledriver. “Buried Alive” smashes and pummels, thick growls engorge, and the pace gurgles blood. The leads encircle before driving into the mud, and then a spacious stretch clears the air, burning into oblivion. “Born a Corpse” drives hard as the guitars smoke, growls chewing amid guitars slashing. Hell then is fully unleashed, tangling as the playing scorches, brawling to the mat. “Mental Butchery” opens with leads stretching as the growls engorge, the pace coming unglued as the tempo jars bones. Growls club as the guitars gain heat, the playing storms, and things get oddly mystical, ending in thick murk.
“…Inhumed…” has the bass clogging veins before the playing blackens eyes, the leads glow before slithering, and the madness blows into calculated madness. The vibe gets dirtier but also eerier, a ghostly hammer loosening teeth as the instrumental piece flows away. “Sadistic Ways” absolutely engulfs, growls smearing, the band thrashing, guts spilled onto the floor. Guitars spiral as the intensity spikes, and then a full death assault destroys, rippling from a final blast. “Death Exhibition” dawns in a thick fury, guitars creating a whirlwind as the growls tarnish egos. The bass buzzes as speed smashes, adding muscle and scar tissue, beating everything into dust. “…Exhumed…” is a sludgy instrumental that is cement thick, guitars attacking, melodies flowing like lava, leaving a pile of bodies. “Rotted Life” closes, and it attacks from the bell, growls shoving your face in mud, the tempo boiling violently as the leads stretch. Growls lurch as the chaos gathers, slowing and punishing, tornadic guitars achieving decimation.
“Death Exhibition” makes it feel like your veins choke with grease as your face repeatedly slams against the ground. Filth have a penchant for strangling and defacing those who come across their music, and they pile on top of you physically and psychologically. This is a pressure cooker that swings for the fences and manages to mangle a few faces along the way.
For more on the band, go here: https://filthdeath.bandcamp.com/
To buy the album, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/filth-death-exhibiton-lp/
Or here: https://www.rottedlife.com/rotted-life-releases
For more on the label, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/
And here: https://www.rottedlife.com/
Meat Mead Metal 