Viscera /// we had met a few years ago on the occasion of the split with Abaton, an output of good level but not entirely indicative, given its particular nature that saw the two bands shuffle their line-up in each of the two tracks offered. This full length, therefore, rips in a decisive manner the veil on the group Cremona putting on display the real and disruptive potential: in fact, on a virulent and extreme base, in 3: Release Yourself Through Desperate Rituals is built a sound disturbed and changing, able to switch in a blink of an eye from death-black outbursts to a toxic psychedelia by the aromas of the seventies, as amply demonstrated since the opener Uber-Massive Melancholia, or launch an exciting ride as Martyrdom For The Finest People, a song that I hope never listen to live because I seriously fear that my worn cervical spine would not stand the impact. The tracks are all connected to each other, thus creating a cohesive monolith of sound that, somehow, is separated into two parts by the short instrumental placed in the middle of the tracklist: a sort of virtual watershed, since with In The Cut and Anxiety Prevails you return partially where you left off, or a form of metal contaminated by different impulses, but always rather direct in exhibiting their roughness, although in this second part more polished. Listening to the album explains in retrospect the camp on the cover of Jim Jones’ face with its load of disturbing charisma: Viscera /// are not the first and will not be the last to exploit in their imagination the figure of one of the deadliest storytellers of the modern era, even if, compared to those who have chosen to speak explicitly of the tragedy of Guayana, the band from Lombardy remains more defiladed both lyrically and musically, preferring the strength of the impact to the pure evocation of horror. In the end, just as in the case of the infamous preacher, it is just a sense of instability, the result of a lucid madness, the predominant soul and the strong point of the modus operandi of Viscera ///, which with this seal to their trilogy are released from any possible mannerism “post”, offering three quarters of an hour of intense music, never trivial and dutifully to intercept.
2017 – Unquiet Records