[Cover artwork by Daniel Hermosilla / Nox Fragor Artworks]
Before moving forward, please consider the following statement: The Continuous Nothing is a notably serious death metal record made by two veterans of the genre who are both quite serious about the art of proper death metal. Accordingly, The Continuous Nothing is bluntly raw, peeved, rugged, unrelenting, dark and of course heavy, and the album incorporates multiple forms of classic death metal without ever going so deep into any singular pattern to wind up sounding like a carbon copy of any one band. In short, this is fucking death metal, which is actually a bit different than simply saying “this is death metal.”
That being said, for reasons I honestly don’t even recall at this point, each of my reviews in 2024 will also include a single panel Wobbly comic that comes to life while listening to the album I’m reviewing, and this is what wandered from the abyssal portal as I was getting to know Coffin Curse’s sophomore full-length:
PETE THE PUSTULE
Now, having never had the pleasure, I am unsure of this fellow’s equivalent in Chile, which happens to be the headquarters of Coffin Curse, but here in these United States? Most every death metal freak knows this dude all too well. His name is probably William, Nelson, Peter, etc., but most of us know him as BILL BLOODHUFFER, NEL NUNGUTTER, or PETE THE PUSTULE, and he’s fittingly tagged as such throughout social media whenever people take advantage of photo opportunities at some bunghole club that wondrously allows underground death metal shows.
Pete’s life outside of metal is completely run-of-the-mill, with his extraordinarily non-metallic spouse cramming their digitized timeline with photos of Pete wearing dad sandals at the local farmer’s market, as well as candid shots of him snuggling with another beloved member of the family, a tuxedo cat who appears to be just as important to Pete as that self-titled Incubus 1987 demo tape he boastfully displays in his office. His personal profile, though, is a different story altogether. A place where PETE THE PUSTULE rises from the oily depths of some verboten abyss [home office] to bestow unto the rotted denizens of the internet a regular youtube roundup of underground death metal. Unnnnnnnnnderground death metal, ye land lubbers—a variety that plumbs depths deep enough that the only thing we now see of the Tomb Molds and Frozen Souls and Gatecreepers of our day is their soft, exposed underbellies. It is here where an endless sea of chaotic death metal survives and thrives free of sunlight’s curse, and it is here where we find Coffin Curse haunting the guts of the underworld for toothsome prey.
If you’re like me—warm-hearted, but with a head full of concrete—you’re a little late to the Coffin Curse party. The band’s debut full-length back in 2020 flew under my radar, and the principal reason The Continuous Nothing finally jumped into view was thanks to the promo copy that smartly spotlighted the fact that the two individuals responsible for this endeavor—guitarist / bassist / vocalist Max Neira and drummer Carlos Fuentes—also hurl riffs and growls under the Inanna banner, a band that won the hearts of Last Rites two years ago with the excellent Void of Unending Depths.
For the record, I wouldn’t necessarily call Coffin Curse a side project for the duo; this is simply another avenue for the two to explore yet another shade of death metal that flanks the slightly more experimental / nightmarish vision of Inanna. That isn’t to say Coffin Curse is entirely uninterested in dropping you right into a nightmare, as the epic 9-minute closer “The Dead’s Deafening Silence” does a great job of closing the record out in a wonderfully bloodcurdling, nightmarish sort of way. But overall, The Continuous Nothing underscores a more straightforward trajectory that puts PUMMELING at the forefront—pummeling that feels like some sort of collision between the early ‘90s Floridian scene and the reckless abandon of the icier Finnish variety that bubbled to the surface around the same time. So, for the sake of comparison, think early Monstrosity and Malevolent Creation mingling with the likes of Adramelech, Abhorrence and even Amorphis (up to and including the excellent Privilege of Evil EP), but with the obvious South American influence to give everything an even more raw and brutal edge.
“Bacchanal of the Mortal” jumps from the gate at a break-neck pace, with riffing sharp enough to rival Whiplash’s game-changing Power and Pain. By the halfway point, the band hits the brakes to give the song a darker and more sinister vibe, which then quickly gives way to a return to an even more relentless rapidity 30 seconds later. Lead breakouts are sparse, with the longest waiting until after the 4-minute mark to wriggle to the surface, and even then it feels as if its principal purpose is to provide a very quick bridge to the song’s absolutely savage close.
A song like “Bacchanal” does a great job of showcasing Coffin Curse’s foremost objective: Hit ‘em fast, hit ‘em ferociously, and give the RIFFING and BATTERY 99% of the grim spotlight. Sometimes that’s done with a little more discordancy beholden to, say, the thrashier side of Voivod (including a wonderfully palpable blower bass), as is the case with “Deceased Races,” and other times things get a little more playful in a jazzy Pestilence sort of way, as illustrated by the splendidly bouncy “Mauled by Unseen Atrocities.” No matter what paints the corners here, though, it’s Coffin Curse’s dedication to relentlessly hammering skulls into paste that takes center stage. Yes, there’s also a morsel or two of melody afoot, but it’s always loose and primitive, harkening back to the bangs & ‘stache days of Rick Rozz, and it mostly serves to provide brief holding points before another series of riffs and blast beats swing through to happily dehead the listener. Check out “Reeking Filth of Ages” for further proof, and be prepared to spray arterial juice once that classic Slayer riff cuts through just 30 seconds in.
I’m guessing it’s clear by now that The Continuous Nothing does little to move the genre into unfamiliar terrain, but that’s also approximately 1000 miles away from Coffin Curse’s obvious intention. As stated in the very first paragraph up there: This is fucking death metal, pure and simple. And while a statement like that could mean almost anything in this day and age, including bands wearing elaborate costumes and fusing virtually any other style to death metal’s hallowed carriage, in this matter—and with The Continuous Nothing lofted before the pride like Simba in some grand coronation ceremony—it means it’s done the way the forebears originally intended it to be done. So, if you like death metal rooted in violent thrash and stacked to the rafters with an over-abundance of furious riffs and barbaric blast beats, best join our old pal PETE THE PUSTULE in welcoming The Continuous Nothing into your ever-growing collection of death specifically designed for destruction.
