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Fear Factory

Fear Factory

The Toll of a New Machine

Featuring

Rotting Christ, Call & Response with Sigh, Harvey Milk, Arsis, Q&A with Richard Christy, Only Death Is Real book excerpt, the making of Saint Vitus's Born Too Late

Also

Orphaned Land, Sacrifice, Hysteria, Holy Grail, Hacride, Monarch!, Annotations of an Autopsy

Howl

Howl

Howl

Gutter poetry | Relapse

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness.” So goes the intro to beat poet Allen Ginsberg’s seminal work Howl. For Ginsberg, the statement is a lamentation. But one could wager that in the eyes of the Rhode Island band Howl, said statement would be cause to throw the horns in the air, hesh out and celebrate good times.

Howl’s EP is but a mere three songs, but it wallops the wax out of ears upon impact. Like Kylesa and early Mastodon, the music is laden with heavy grooves that burn so hot they become molten. We’re talking evil sexy. Singer Vincent Hausman opens “Oma” commanding, “Hurry up, motherfuckers,” growled through mouthfuls of hair and human toes. Maybe even hairy human toes. The dude’s got a way with words. Though we can’t be 100 percent sure, we’re almost positive that on “And the Gnawing” there’s a lyric that goes, “Yes, you will cuddle with the fuckin’ rats when she rebuilds her home.” Imagine giant mutant rats in body armor invading the mosh pit. It could happen. “Kings That Steal” closes out the EP with a simple, tempered hook that Howl hose down with wrath. The arrangement shifts entirely mid-song, and the band rebuilds with extra doom. Can I play with madness? Yes you can.

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