Genre : Death Metal with a yet-coarse Technical Death ambition
Label : Metal Blade Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 6.5 / 10
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Job For A Cowboy's Demonocracy would be an awesometacular release in a world that did not yet see (vastly) superior peers set their gargantuan T-Rex claws to claim the territory as their own to wage the not at all tame wars of modern day technical death fucking metal. Job For A Cowboy's Demonocracy is as good as an after-event substitute-janitor is in the Colosseum where Gorod suplexes Spawn of Possession for your appreciation, after it has just been body slammed by the secondly mentioned. Indeed, the Blotted Science-kind of warfare sounds to be a central inspirational factor of this disk, and, while it no doubt packs a legitimate sense of above-average level heft of intricacy, said attribute simply is not of the same fucking league yet as you will find in the music of the aforementioned gargantuans. The reasons are simple enough, and you will need to read on to find out what those are.
Composition techniques, production values and riff-definition. Where the Gorod and Spawn of Possession guys sound crystal clear, I dare say, granite-sterile, Job For A Cowboy satisfies with less definition for pretty much all the time. I'm totally content with the superb high frequency detail whenever the disk offers such, but it is much less frequently used than in the most obsessively constructed TDM deliveries the guy called Beethoven and the latex gimp called GyZ approves of. The mid-range on display in my opinion exhibits more mud than it is beneficiary, - beneficiary = the complete lack of it - and the album has a non-relenting tendency to assume that it is highly OK to pressurize/conceal the deficits of semi-sculpted-, noisy-ass riffing with robust blast beat paua'. Exceptions are present, but not constant : the start of the second track is amazing. Then, the vocals come in, and the fray slowly but surely withers into second tier thrash-metal-on-war-steroid warfare, showing a radical downslide from the eminent silence slaughter the declaration starts out with.
The sense of variation the ensemble most often brings to the table is akin to that heard on Unexpect's Fables of a Sleepless Empire, with the one crucial exception that this band is not at all allowed to venture into larger than life psychedelic LSD territory, so the primer routes they take to deliver flamboyancy are interchanges between blast beats, ultra-intense blast beats, and your-fucking-eyeballs-out-of-your-fucking-skull-level-as-result-of-blast-beat-resonance-intensity blast beats, interrupted by sections that reek the Unexpect-kind of groovish metal. I strongly claim that the mid-section parts of this disc are veeeeeeeery very akin to the same methodology of said release.
The delivery is not bad at all. It is a step-, and a doubtless legitimate one towards an ambition to emerge as a full musculature technical death metal affair at a future date. Now is the time to synchronize your clock with that of the shaman transvestite on the cover - '-the fuck is this, rejected concept art for Diablo 1 from 1996? - and we will see what job a cowboy will apply for on the next interview. This is a product of massive mid-evolution, and not yet a final creature, in my opinion. Definitely worth a try, but do not expect the same kind of hyper-definition, titanium-sterility and fractal-chaos-intricacy you would get from the truly obsessively and manically constructed technical death metal releases that I have linked to you previously. Job For A Cowboy is in the process of getting to the horizon-front of the fields where rabid cybernetic T-Rexes already are waging their titanic wars with ruthless rigor and intricate ferocity.
Rating : 6.5 / 10
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