### Humangled: Fractal

#### 23/09/10 || MikzorTheFirst

My first label-sent, let’s see what you’ve got. I chose an album called “Fractal” because I’m young, impressionable, slightly pretentious and at times described as “sometimes not-stoned”, which means I eat up all that artsy-fartsy stuff like… like if the cheese doodles were totally gone, man! Of course I was way off, since this here disc contains exclusively death metal of a mostly mid-paced sort. I also gathered that these guys are from Italy, so it’s time to grind the ol’ stereotype-mill and see what comes out.

In fact, this album resembles pizza on several levels, by which I refer to one of those cheap deep-frozen ordeals that you warmed up in the sun for several hours because your microwave (and nearest window) vanished last time you hosted a party. It’s flat, the basis offers countless possibilities that have ultimately been chosen not to be explored (because you know they all taste the fucking same) and really, fuck it, can I fry this shit in a pan? It tastes like chicken that hasn’t been turned into something fried, salty and lacking in actual chicken-taste (or as we all know, rather the lack thereof).

The guitarists are kind of sloppy. Granted, some find this to be an asset. A sort of an expression of the untamed fury contained within the mere notes and sound-waves the songs emit. Asset my asset! That music nowadays is pro-tooled or not is hardly any of my concern. All I know is that I like my metal as I like my modern Asian communist dictatorships. Everything has to work in perfect unison and with immaculate timing. Stray minds are by default seen as anarchists and will not be tolerated. See what I did there? Yeah, fuck you punk-music, you haven’t been cool for a good 20 years! This is of course misleading as the music resembles punk about as much as your voice melts hearts and your scent flocks pussycats as opposed to critters of the vulture-variety, but my mind is allowed to wander! I chose creative freedom with these things and stand by it no matter how much coke and hookers The Lord keeps offering me!

Obviously the imperative factor to account for when it comes to this kind of metal is indeed the fury. Unfortunately we are talking about a fury that the guys in Humangled left in the pants of their prime minister (zing?) and not one that is on display here. After a spin I was reminded of the fact that these are actual Italians, not alpha males from New York protecting the pride of their housewives with baseball-bats (now that I’d love to hear!). It doesn’t help that the growling is as varied as the underwhelming flow of ideas I’m having for this review right now.

Something about orgies in the Vatican minus age restrictions, I guess.

There are moments that border on fine, but although I see and appreciate the effort, there’s no way I’m going to listen to it from here on forward. For the sake of illustration, picture a nighttime scenario where I’m standing on an old pier somewhere in Sicily. I’m armed with a slick-looking coat, a sweet-ass hat, a cane and I’m backed by a couple of goons. “Fractal” is a farmer. He owns this idyllic small house surrounded by grassland that is grazed on by a herd of goats and a single cow. Here, he and his wife dream of raising two beautiful daughters and one strapping young lad. By ill chance, however, he owes me money and I need it direly. Since his stock has been milking poorly as of late, he is unable to cough it up and is currently standing on his knees pleading for his life. “Fuck you!” my fist suggested as it enthusiastically greeted his cheekbone. “Give my regards to your formerly hypothetical and from now on just plain non-existent kids!” my foot added in good manner after releasing his groin from its warm embrace. The man lost consciousness and for a moment I contemplated letting him regain it before pushing him off the pier into the storming sea, but ultimately decided against it because; “Fuck you farmer, I needed a new microwave!”

- Information
- Released: 2010
- Label: Abyss Records
- Website: Humangled MySpace
- Band
- Andy Goreds: vocals
- Luke “Incyde” Scurb: guitars
- Tat0: bass
- Raffaele Pezzella: drums

- Tracklist
- 01. Fruits of abdomen
- 02. From empty sockets
- 03. Infinitesimal
- 04. Brutalize the pedophile
- 05. Liquidfire
- 06. Cognitive monstrozity
- 07. Under the roots
- 08. Burning from inside
- 09. As individuality fades
- 10. Reversed humans