WARFUCK 'Neantification' CD

It took me far longer than I am willing to admit to realise that Néant is french for "The Void" and ergo  Neantification may be crudely translated as voidification or the process of voiding. This makes far more sense than my diacratic free googling which lead me to suspect Neanderthals or the North East Alliance of Anarchists or maybe even anarchist neanderthals. However if Warfuck are alluding towards anything the bleak nothingness one would expect of a void is the complete opposite of what is caged in this shard of wax, from a particularly delectable traumatic delivery Warfuck are offering only the most cruel of harmonics.

The most immediate impression is the overall anemic tone, the lack of bass guitar and thin yet depressed guitar tone give a deathly air to its adulterating exhalations, an ugliness in form that lends a particularly gaunt sickness throughout. Yet like the scurrying of a thousand cockroaches Neantification is bustling with pestilential energy, all activity is undertaken with an almost discourteous brevity, a continuous scutter of rhythmic corrosion that reinforces an overpowering sense of pressing danger and urgency. This crippling sense of listener panic is not helped by the crow like vocal squawks that seemingly bring forth a deeper more primal sense of fear forward with anxiety entwined with a need for survival. As for the drums here is a man who clearly learnt the way of a thousand blast beats, incredible variety and dexterity placed with fantastic precision, and with the greatest of respect the drums are what keep this rhythmic  locust swarm together and moving forward.

There are exceptions to the alchemical conduct too, vocal free slogger of a track Néant dims what little light was present for an apocalyptic neocrust like dirge fit to bury the earth in, and final track Rondelle takes a page from Robocop bringing a saxophone to a blast off. Both tracks are invigorating and a nice nuance from the overall plunge that Neantification offers, yet the fact remains that this is one beautifully aphotic and inflamed album worthy of your attentions.

GRIND TO DEATH