Originally written by Chris Redar
Sumerian’s latest offering to the Summer Slaughter T…
Wait, what? They’re not? And they aren’t?
Well, there goes the only two reasons for this to exist. France’s Deep in Hate play the kind of deathcore that just oozes “stereotype.” Chronicles of Oblivion has everything the sixteen-year-old connoisseur of lousy music desires. Drums so triggered they sound like INXS with a double kick? Check. (The snare sounds like a goddamn hand clapping.) Vocals layered so many times the band would need five singers to pull this off convincingly live? Quintuple check. 808 bass drops? You know it! Of course they would; how else would the crowd know when one of the seventy-five million breakdowns are coming? It’s about the consumer, dont’cha know.
Did I mention how incredibly fake the drums sound yet? “The Cattle Procession” does that djent-pattern-minus-djent-riffwork stutter-step double bass thing that sounds about as cool as… well, 808 bass drops. It sounds like sour shit in a tin can is what I’m getting at. Christ, the cymbals even stop at timed intervals. It’s truly horrifying how soulless an affair this is. It’s like the worst Benighted has to offer without any of the charm.
Try not to piss yourself laughing when the stick twirl happensAnd it only gets less interesting. “Altars of Lies” is so ridiculously over-the-top technical that the first half of the song sounds like an arpeggio competition where the only winner is the stop button. It’s like Deep in Hate just heard Epitaph for the first time and were all “fuck, dudes, we could do that shit! But let’s make sure the second half of the song is one continuous breakdown. We’ve got kids to feed. Sacre bleu!”
I shit you not, I could easily go on for two thousand more words hating on this. Instead, I offer a plea for peace: Bands, stop making this fucking album. Let’s pledge to let Deep in Hate make the last plastic deathcore snoozefest and cut our losses. It’s not worth it, guys and gals.
But just in case this prayer falls silent, protect your ears and avoid this monstrosity like it has a mustache and hangs out by the middle school, because that’s the target audience.
