This review should really be about thirteen words long: “This album is called ‘Extreme Graveyard Tornado,’ and it’s Birdflesh. Ergo, it rules.”
But I’m paid by the word, so here goes…
Have you and your friends ever put on dresses, blown up an inflatable doll or three to toss amongst yourselves, and spent the next half-hour or so just bouncing around in uncontrollable violent spasms?
I guess you haven’t been to a Birdflesh show then.
Want to hear a blistering song about milkshakes? Of course you do, and “Milkshake Is Fun” has you covered. There’s even a slurping soundbite and a lyrical nod to Like An Everflowing Stream (although here, it’s a strawberry stream, which sounds heavenly). Ever thought grindcore should stop being so sociopolitical and talk more about Mexican food? Well, look no further than “Guacamolestation Of The Tacorpse,” which crams two terrible puns into one great meal. Ever find yourself asking why no one has ever written a song called “Botox Buttocks”? Well, ask no more…
Of course, Birdflesh is more than just silliness. Thematically and visually, sure, they’re a bunch of outright goofuses, but when it comes to their gnarly brand of grinding, they’re at least serious enough to get it right. Mostly, this grind is of a classic death-hybridized style, equal parts punk chaos and metal sharpness, and Birdflesh borrows skillfully from several other styles to add spice to the mixture. What separates these birds from the flock is that Birdflesh is crafty enough to sink their claws in with the occasional hooky riff that pokes forth from the blasting. Perforate your ears with the melodic thrashery of “Home Of The Grave” or the crossover swagger of “House Guest” or the almost melo-death ending of “The Rise Of Stupidity.” Hell, toss in some harmony guitars on “Pyromaniacs” while you’re at it…
It’s been eleven years since the last Birdflesh full-length, and thankfully, Extreme Graveyard Tornado wastes no time and doesn’t screw around. This is no ordinary graveyard tornado, kids. This one is EXTREME. This one drinks Mountain Dew. This one skateboards in the X Games. This one’s got a hole in its heart that can only be filled by you. This one’s twenty-four songs in twenty-seven minutes, and it’s all great big gobs of groovy grinding goofiness. So put on your best dress and blow up the dolls, because it’s party time, friends
This album is called Extreme Graveyard Tornado, and it’s Birdflesh.
Ergo, it rules.