Is gore-grind always this groovy? No, but Exhumed is seven albums deep in the game now. Hence, the “necrocracy” they gutturally preach fits like a diseased, maggot-laden glove. You’d think a grind band that slows down long enough at various points here and there to smell the corpses would fall into a rut, but you also might assume you’d never pledge every ounce of your energy to a song called “The Shape of Deaths to Come.” You will, and every sore muscle in your neck will be worth it. Just when you think you’re out, Exhumed pulls you back in with an expertly arranged cut like “The Carrion Call.” Either our ears are becoming more accepting of this kind of brutality or this kind of brutality is inexplicably getting better. Probably a little of both. For that, I dub Necrocracy the feel-good gore-grind album of the year.
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