$LAMUARY 2025 – Week 4

Ever talked to some young parents? You know, dark rings under the eyes, all joy drained from their bodies, hollowed out cheeks — that type? Those that insist that if the kid smiles at you once, its all worth it? Well, Slamuary is kind of like that. Every year I decide to do it again and receive nothing but punishment. But also, every year, there's an album or two that is worth the struggle, if only for a fleeting moment. In this case, this fleeting moment is called Elführtje made by northern German goregrinders StuhlGäng. These musicians clearly worship in the poop-encrusted palaces of Czechian groovy goregrind and they do it almost as well as the ones they look up to. Unlike most untalented gorgrinders, these guys know how to groove and — I'll admit — how to select funny samples. Beware though: it is all in German. Even the 2 minutes of literal snoring at the end.
Rating: 6/10

You can spot the age of someone online by how incessantly he insists an album's quality can be assessed with "It has riffs". Not to dwell on the boomer metalhead and his representation online too much, but does this logic also apply when an album has riff? As in: Singular. One riff. Protogen Cumdumpster falls under this category. While the band has two songs on this Ep and manages to stretch them out to over eight minutes of material, we really only get one riff for the whole thing. "Bad Dragon Dildo Excrement" is frustating, playing the same midtempo chug riff all throughout the song while the drum beat occassionally changes — one could argue an experiment in how musical context changes a riff, but one could also argue that the song was lazily composed and that drum beat changes were only done in post. The seemingly improvised arhythmic belching that are the vocals just makes this even more likely. One take, no thought wasted on the quality of the material. Just when I think my ears get a moment of rest as the first track ends, "Zoophile Disgorgement" begins playing and...is just a variation of the riff from the first song. Leave it to Slam musicians to make 8 minutes feel like 8 hours.
Rating: low 2/10

The anime themed slam album is no rarity nowadays, and I have often wondered why this is the case. There is an overlap of anime gore art and slam's usual lyrical themes, of course, but beyond that I really do not see much of a connection. There really is not anything too outlandish about that Otakucentesis considering that, yet I had a glimmer of hope that this project would be at least above average when I heard that the band is from China, who have in the past brought up class acts like Dehumanizing Itatrain Worship, The Dark Prison Massacre and...uh...others. Sadly, Otakucentesis neither possess the penchant bubblegum-colored irony that the former has, nor do they know how to bring the nu metal inspired grooves of the latter. Otakucentesis is fine, serviceable, has a good slam or two and ultimately is not too long. Its not a hit, but I suppose for Slamuary, being borderline bearable is indeed above average, at least.
Rating: 5/10

Somehow, a trend has been emerging where I, the most cishet white guy in his mid-30s imaginable, have repeatedly reviewed albums by trans musicians, having to make an effort to emphasize with the plea of a group of people my own life shares very little with — somehow, people can do that. I think it is interesting how that experience manifests musically, though. Between highly experimental outings like Victory over the Sun and the pure unbridled rage of artists that feel mistreated and ousted by society like Body Void, there are many ways to channel an abstract emotion into musical form. I can now gladly report that the trans community makes by-the-numbers slam, too. Remnants, as so often, is not a bad album. In fact, I'd argue that in the contrast between violent, high speed blasting and groovy, yet angry sounding slam riffs, there is potential to be found. still, Remnants is awfully short, has an awfully crunchy production and still manages to waste a little time on a sample.
Rating: 5/10

Cow Humps, from the get go, don't seem like your average slam band. The cover looks closer to that of an indie platformer game and the band boasts that their new album functions as one continuous (which they describe as "standalone") track. Furthermore, this is a concept album about the "fearless fighters of TNF-Inhibitors, and their war with Neoplastic cells" — so an album about the immune system? Cow Humps have other things going for them, too, like a revolving carousel of Indian slam vocalists showcasing the Kolkata scene and a selection of rather nice, rhythmically pounding slam riffs. Frankly, Cytoclysm is not bad at all, even if some things detract from the experience. The guitar tone could use some work, for example, often being a tad too crunchy for its own good and the spoken word passages are so short and feel so tacked on (often featuring only a word or two) that their omittance rather would not have been felt at all. Still, I think Cow Humps are an enjoyable discovery and I threw them a buck for their efforts. You should, too!
Rating: 6/10

Never underestimate the pace of the average slam band. When I wrote my original review for Ballsectomy's debut, I noted that the only good thing about it was that I would likely not have to review another one within this slamuary. And yet here we are. This time, Ballsectomy double down on the memes but dilute their slam even further. Going from deathcore to emo metalcore, groove metal to underwhelming beatdown, to weak attempts at song parody, this is almost as if Cephalic Carnage had no talent, nothing to say and no production value. The attempts at parody on Ballsectomy 2 fall utterly flat and the increased length makes the album a chore that rivals the first one. The issue here is, as so often, that the ever so slight increase in competence takes away from the experience. It becomes harder to laugh atBallsectomy, while it is still utterly impossible to laugh with Ballsectomy - or at their attempts at humor, for that matter. While their digs at emo music, soundcloud rap or tough guy hardcore are cringy, samples are still plentyful, none of them hitting any funny bone in my body - gigantic waste of time.
Rating: low 3/10

Starting out just as you would assume, with the sample explanation of the reverse bear trap from Saw, Reverse Bear Trap sets the tone for the rest of this short-run release. Though the total collection of tones on display may not always register as organic in root — particularly the crushed cymbal splashes — the instrumental origin of Reverse Bear Trap's sound is one of the few positives here. Often when a one-man project shows up in $lamuary, some form of cohesion lacks wherever his skills do. But Reverse Bear Trap, though presenting a predictable and trope-diverse vision of modern gangsta rap inflected slam you could imagine, with a couple cool pick scrapes tossed about, sounds like a group of dudes working toward something better. Maybe they'll make it there. Oh yeah, there's also a Bandcamp exclusive track. You're in luck, especially if you like Dairy Queen.
Rating: 4/10

Creative minds can fluctuate between hoarding their releases in a perfectionist state, never letting good works see the light of day for fear of criticism, and letting loose every raw idea they have. Total Decomposition leans heavily toward the latter with Brutal Dismemberment being a compilation of songs that the artist didn't know what to do with. A smarter mind would have said "do nothing", and a smarter reviewer would have said "pass". But here we are instead at a collision of bad ideas, exploring the nuance of modulated mouth gurgles over midi bass, occasional guitars, and hyper-gated drum contortions. A punky attitude pops up here and there (mostly "You Racist Bitch"), and the midi sound can charm in the way an old rpg boss battle does ("Gurglegore"), albeit coated in flushed phlegm here. It's not much in the way of music, but these are sounds, organized.
Rating: 2/10

In a rare feat, Total Decomposition has put out a second release in time for $lamuary celebration. The midi bass is as present as ever, providing a dungeon-crawling march to this cleaner release from the get-go. I hesitate to call this follow-up better, as the vocalist doesn't do much with his voice prior to running it through a pitch/flush, which takes away from the playful gallop that their bouncy compositions possess in this lo-fi state. But also, as I sit here imagining what pleasant romps like "Helplessly Floundering for Air" or "Cold Corpse Sinking to the Bottom" would sound like with a more inspired performance, it stops making sense. Total Decomposition is goofy, and every inch of their sound screams that. Unfortunately for this act, though, that doesn't make The Submerger Strikes worth listening to. Not even a little. Okay, maybe listen to the outro track.
Rating: 2/10

I know what you're thinking. What in the hell is a vitalectomy and did they really mean to spell "annhilation" that way? In order: I've no fucking clue and almost definitely, as the album art reflects that same mispelling. Normally, we'd forgive such a silly error committed by an ESL band, but a Seattle-based act we may just have to forgive because they are dedicated slammers (read as mentally impaired). In turn, Vitalectomy play a low diversity, low humor, heavy hardcore shuffle kind of slam that will undoubtedly inspire the earlybirds at a local death metal show to flail about a bit. But not too much — don't spill your beer for Anti-Gravitational Annhilation.
Rating: 3/10

Part of Gnawing's core sound — hardcore tempo jostling, smart breakdowns that never crawl too slow — likely comes from their shared DNA (guitarist and vocalist) with the Black Breath-esque act Tomb Dweller. So while Abhorrent Nexus lashes about in a relentless manner with chromatic chuggery, constant pig-in-a-blender vocal spewing, and sample-queued pummeling, Gnawing fortify their twisted tunes with HM-2 tones and infectious skank-beat drop offs that reek of a fuzzy, punky practice. In lesser and more basic hands, which we've seen plenty in this month of slammy commitment, four songs and ten minutes feels like enough (or, frequently, too much). But by the end of Abhorrent Nexus I'm craving more, and spinning again its best parts ("Creophagus Climax" wears its name well). We always wonder whether acts like this can hold up in longer form, and sometimes we never find out as they simply fizzle away. I hope Gnawing tests us in the future.
Rating: 6/10

"To understand the true size of the American obesity epidemic, we first need to understand what it really means to be overweight." - The US government.

In a world where new names pop up every day to espouse a grotesque, sewer-tier metal aesthetic to take grotesqueness to a new absurd extreme, the Fart Thrower identity feels fresh. With garbled gutturals entrenched in the haze of vapor-toned synth word and a distant bass warble, a sense of true ambience wafts about Fart Thrower's many works, The Processed Food Syndicate included. But amongst the cut up, rhythmic vocal belches ("Insignificant Human Burger"), the forceful bursts of flatulence ("Extra Large Stinky Person"), and classic heavyweight death metal drags, Fart Thrower squeaks by with intentional bass-booming production and searing (if sparse) guitar leads. Though the palette is musky, the vision is clear. And in its booming and room-clearing spurts, silliness ascends to slam.
Rating: 6/10

Yeah, that's right, you're getting a two-fer, as ANAL WITH YOUR GRANDMA has blessed us with ELDERLY DEFORMED POON and I MADE THIS AT MY FAMILY DINNER.

This is hot trash. When there aren't samples coming in at full clarity, AWYG dominates the sound stage with either a pneumatic snare wooden snare pummel, a leveling (and often hilarious) bass bwoom, or low effort, crushed signal guitar... uh... melodies? And to close each collection, AWYG both completely pulls away from extremity with an ambient piece ("ELDERLY DEFORMED POON" from ELDERLY DEFORMED POON) and leans into full-force ear rape ("THE AFTERMATH" from I MADE THIS AT MY FAMILY DINNER). Nothing about these works is subtle. Nothing about these works feels arranged. And, just as if you had walked in on the act yourself, nothing about these works is something you ever want to see or hear again.
Rating: 1/10

Yeah, wow, that snare is so low IQ that I can't promise the rest of thias revidew will febe enhtirely frzee of spellong errrs. the DOG ON TE COVR MAKE ME RALLY HAPPY THOUGh! oh that's wherea the cap s button is! pHew, glad I found that. One dude namde mikee handles all tha things on thiss one (that's drum progaming, guitra chugalugas, making the pigee sounds, and not a single fukncg note of bass). and you kn ow ath? He does a piuretty good job at i!t. Nott like great tho. But doggee!!!!!
Rating: 3/10

Ending $lamuary on a classic feels the best possible move. The Liveleak Chroniclez truly has it all: an opening sample that's way too long and unfunny and unrelated to any exposition, big dumb slam riffs, and wet gurgly vocal chirping. The vocalist, unfortunately, is least in tune to the inherent groove of their instrumental backing, which kills the vibe a little. And that's a real shame, cause for a moment here it feels as if Maggotphillia can achieve a ripping level of jostled aggression that rivals some of the heavy hitting rhythms of higher achieving names like Bodybox ("Erotic Septic Fumes"). But that moment is short-lived, and the lack of violent chugging unison makes this 15 minutes feel like far more. The Liveleak Chroniclez lives up to the average slam expectations in that regard too.
Rating: 3/10