Global Flatline (Arg)


aec.imt10029500.2 3/6/12 New

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Review Text One would think, given their rather insensitive, controversial moniker, that Aborted's career would have been a flash in the pan, yet the Belgian death grinders have instead pretty much gone from strength to strength, reaching their seventh full-length in 2012's Global Flatline. This relative measure of success (if you can measure underground popularity as "success," that is) can probably be attributed to two things: the enduring pleasure that the band derives from shocking those dying to be shocked, and their unquestionable musical talents, both technical and creative. Indeed, while the members of Aborted have clearly never met a hyper-blastbeat and matching sonic holocaust they didn't like, Global Flatline, like other preceding releases, is liberally jam-packed with unexpected surprises, including dramatically deliberate intros, neck-snapping tempo changes, unexpected swerves into melodious solo runs -- all the while juggling an ever shifting lineup of violently complementary vocal tones. Heck, at their most accessible on the exceptional "Endstille," Aborted's guitarists sound like they're fulfilling their Satriani-shredding dreams. As for the lyrics, delectable subjects range from the expected world apocalypse scenarios (the title track), to Carcass-inspired medical handbook Cliff's Notes ("Coronary Reconstruction"), to tales of shoe-making serial killers ("The Kallinger Theory"), to railing against drug abuse ("Expurgation Euphoria"), to good old-fashioned grotesqueries ("Of Scabs and Boils") and grime (errr, "Grime"). But perhaps most notable is the fact that simply no one else does poo-poo poetry quite like Aborted, as evidenced by the gorge-inducing rhymes found on "Fecal Forgery" and "Our Father, Who Art of Feces" -- not to mention the band's eulogy to flatulence, "From a Tepid Whiff." Who says there's no humor to be had in death grind? And who says a rampant sonic bludgeoning like Global Flatline can't be wildly entertaining, too, so long as those delivering it have the instrumental chops to back it up, and those listening have open minds to go with strong stomachs. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia

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