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Decapitated | Winds of Creation | review | metal | Lollipop


Winds of Creation (Earache)
by Tim Den

Either I'm getting old or I'm a big fucking wuss, because these teenagers are whipping my sorry ass. Decapitated, a four-piece from Poland that sounds like (and worships) fellow countrymen Vader, is the most furiously technical and "we're here to whirlwind rape your mothers" brutal bands I've heard in a long-ass time. And I've heard a lot of self-proclaimed "brutal" bands. Skipping through the first 30 seconds of the two opening tracks will be enough to convince you "Yup, these guys just don't give a fuck." The first time I heard this, the conversation I was having was interrupted by my turning around and gasping "Who the fuck is this?"

With each member a trained musician (except the vocalist, whose early-Broken Hope gargle could probably land him some voice-overs for horror films), the sheer talent and inhuman performances alone make the album worthy. But as impossible as it seems, these young 'uns (um... the drummer's only 16. Move over Gene Hoglan!) manage to come up with some juicy riffs and tricky breakdown parts amidst all the speedy fretboard fingers and blastbeats. They sound dangerously close to their idols, but it's arguable that Decapitated are even hungrier than Vader. There's youthfulness in their mangled style, a kind of rough "charge ahead" that's not normally present with technically-obsessed death metal bands. As I said, they don't sound like they give a fuck, because every song jumps out of the stereo and sets your house on fire. If you thought Terrorizer sounded like a tornado, you ain't heard nothing yet.
(43 West 38th St., 2nd Fl. New York, NY 10018)  

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