Originally written by Chris Redar
Brief moment of honesty here: expectations for this were extremely low based on the terrible, terrible name of this band. Slutvomit, guys? Really? I wonder just how many google searches for ‘offensive band name’ were performed before settling on the most nonsensical combination of words possible. Are we talking about a promiscuous person expectorating bile? Or perhaps the bile itself? In which case, why isn’t ‘slut’ possessive? Or is there an ever-rare, yet ever-desirable third possibility of a gigantic slut vomiting smaller sluts to walk the streets and terrorize the populace at large with their never-ending wave of philandering? In any case/outcome, this was sure to be nothing but miserable, cookie-cutter Swedish-style blackened death, based on the lovely promo photos and inspiring quotes (‘WE ARE SLUTVOMIT, FUKK YOU).
Here’s the problem: Swarming Darkness fucking rocks. It’s not smart, nor does it try to be. Nor do these Seattle lads attempt to out-speed or out-tech anyone. What we have here is a nice dose of blackened death/thrash immaturity, taken as a 36-minute time-release capsule. Opening immediately with a ripping little solo over a not-so-tight blast, the title track brings some serious thunder before a strangely abrupt ending. That’s about the only surprise to be found over these 11 songs. Surprise isn’t the name of the game here, though. This is almost custom-designed for a night of drinking in the garage with your friends that your wife can’t stand because they’re raging alcoholics (and mostly unemployed as a result).
Things gallop right along with “Downward Falling Christ”, which is a bit more of a typical track on Swarming Darkness: double-bass two-step beat, double-picked riff, M. Larson’s awesomely bratty sneer (delivered in an almost completely decipherable manner, which is a HUGE highlight), ripping solo, and over before you know it. Moments where things slow down just a hair do exist, though ‘slow’ in this case refers strictly to the tempo. “Poservore” brings things down to a swinging pace that actually serves to invigorate the album a bit after the same-ol’ of previous tracks might prove a little stale to the casual ear (and the ‘ONE-TWO, FUCK YOU’ is priceless at the mid-point).
There isn’t a lot of meat to stick to the sharpened bones that Slutvomit utilize to poke listeners, however. Forgettable is too harsh a descriptor to use, but this is definitely disposable, much as a condom after a one-night stand or most of your dinner after that tenth shot of whiskey. The thrill is good while it’s happ… Wait a goddamn minute, there, Slutvomit. Your name makes complete sense now! It was right there from the beginning! Oh, Slutvomit…
Bottom line- recommended for those seeking a cheap and fun thrill, not for those looking for a life-altering musical adventure.