Satanic Corpse, the third full length from Brutally Deceased, sounds very Swedish. Incredibly Swedish. More Swedish than Dolph Lundgren having a three way with Ingrid Bergman and Britt Ekland in a cottage in the foothills of Sarektjåkkå. More Swedish than Abba doing the hambo in front of thousands of adoring fans eating complimentary gravlax. More Swedish than the Swedish Chef borking a fyernidern da hurdy flerby sherm shlam.
You get it. It sounds Swedish. That the band is from the Czech Republic does nothing to stop them from pilfering the careers of Dismember (mostly their melodeathier material) and Edge of Sanity (think The Spectral Sorrows) for glorious inspiration, nor does it stop them from thinking northward to add Dawn’s extra iciness on the tremolo riffs. Nope, as far as the music is concerned, Brutally Deceased cares not for their homeland, looking only to Sweden.
And they do a damn fine job at their apery, as this 30-minute slab of (mostly) Stockholm worship bangs hard, rips flesh, and stops before it can even begin to wear out its welcome. And unless you count the first few seconds of opener “The Art of Dying” before the band hits light speed, there isn’t even an intro or setup for the slaughter. It’s a refreshingly no-nonsense take on a classic sound – Sunlight production included – and more than backed up by the band’s knack for chunky hooks, great tremolo lines, and well-placed blasts.
The album is a nearly constant barrage of these elements, offering little in the way of variety or dynamic shift. Sure, the Massive Killing Capacity vibes during “At One with the Dead” crank up the death’n’roll, and the slimier passages of “Ruthless Cleansing” show that the band occasionally lets the tempo dip below full speed, but these aren’t exactly big deviations from the musical mean. Most of the album’s real variety comes when you’re trying to guess which obvious influence is currently the most dominant at any time. During the wickedly fun bridge of “The Disclosure (In the Circle of Thy Bowels),” for instance, it’s definitely Edge of Sanity. Also, that song is about pooping. No really, look it up. Too much gravlax, evidently.
There isn’t much more to say about Satanic Corpse. (Hell, there wasn’t a ton to say about it to begin with, hence the joking up top.) It’s a blast of an album—a somewhat disposable blast in the grand scheme of things, but a blast nonetheless. In a perfect world, bands like Brutally Deceased would always occupy the opening slots on bigger package tours instead of some overhyped soon-to-be-flame-out act. Because even if you forget the album in six months, this kind of stuff will get the blood pumping hot every damn time.