Originally written by Dan Staige.
Enter a complete desecration of music as you know it. Enter the total obliteration of traditional music and the supreme rebuild of what death metal is about to become. Enter…..Decrepit Birth. The ideas of the masterminds behind this band are simple: Insult, degrade, humiliate, and ultimately annihilate anything that can be understood, comprehended, or whistled along to. Holy shit is this ever some powerful fucking music we have here. First I have to mention that Matt Sotelo is the epitome of a fret-master. 90% of this album is palm muted but the sounds he achieves from these odd-chords and note combos really gives this music an eerie feel that most death metal should have as it’s standard. Yeah and it’s Tim Yeung on drums people. Have you heard this advanced being yet? If not, go fire an M-16 for 15 minutes non-stop and try counting the exact number of bullets that have been discharged. Prod is very impressive, especially for a debut of a band trying to capture smooth presentation of such rippling power at the speed it’s delivered. Some people are going to piss’n’moan about the bass drum sounding too triggered. Truth is, this album just wouldn’t sound the same w/ any alterations to the sound of Yeung. He is so precise in his patterns and fluent in speed that it sounds like a machine at times. The technikillity on this record implodes my fucking brain. Just when I was beginning to be able to follow a great deal of Disgorge’s material, along comes DB and smashes all progress I’ve made. There has got to be a completely different level of existence in order to be able to assemble songs like this and have other musicians understand, follow, and complement it. It’s like an exclusive club that secretly bores deeper into the earth and keeps it’s discoveries to itself for sole purpose of personal gain. “And Time Begins” presents only the leanest, meanest, heaviest, and most confusing songs possible. The blistering takes a short breather w/ the masterful instrumental “…Of Genocide”, which berths monster grinding chords at crawl pace over Yeung’s pulping double kick. The riff pattern throbs intensely and escalates over sub-demonic grumbles and sub-surface volcanic blasts. The disc is short, just under 30 minutes. But the message itself is loud and clear from the beginning: You are listening to something that will take an eternity to fully understand. And if that understanding is ever met, it will be on Decrepit Birth’s own terms. Brutal, dark, fast and unbelievably technical. What the fuck more do you need? Support this band and get this album now. This is what it’s all about.
