Fistula "The Shape of Doom to Cumm)))" TAPE


$ 6.00

There is the sludge genre, and then there are bands that are sludge. One such band, and the only redeeming quality outside sports, is Ohio based Fistula. Known less for coming from the gutter than just simply crashing on its couch all the time, Fistula simply drips with the scuzziest noise outside a grindcore club. They bring the noise, the hate, and will tell you to your face if there’s even a hint at being a douchebag (oh track one, "Serial Vapist", you scamp!); and to make matters worse, they just dropped a huge slab of greasy, queasy fuzz onto the scene: 'The Shape Of Doom To Cumm)))'!

Laden with everything they have come to purvey, 'The Shape Of Doom To Cumm)))' is an ode to all those bands and "artists" who seem to think an Orange amp and some gain make you something to give two rats asses about; hint: you matter not to the Void. “The Shape...” is dripping with sardonic hatred for scenesters and fad chasers, scrapping rusty barbed wire across the speakers as if to wound those who listen. Fistula deliver punk energy and some (heavily shop-soiled) bluesy riffage to bear, as on "Sabbath Wants to Do a Split with Me". They pull some truly Sabbathian riffs and tones out of their bag of tricks and rampage all over traditional Doom, while paying some heavy respects to the Iommi. The whole album just reeks of Doom, alongside their more signature scuzzy sound, and it's definitely at the forefront of tracks like "Sabbath..." and "Tough Guy", the middle siblings of the album. Classic Fistula fans (and there must be millions) don't be down trodden, as they still keep their fast paced, gritty sound throughout the album (tracks "Goat Brothel", "Black Maggot", and "Negative", which will have you in a pit in no time), interwoven with that heavy, fuzz-filled doom that they swear will CUMM))) ("Promiscuous Ingenuity", definite blankets of fleas, slow and fast). They haven't lost any edge in delving into the lo and slo, it's just simply a slower drag of their jagged knives across your wrists. Fistula has created a maelstrom of binge-fueled hell, and by god you need to bring more beer.


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