Blast Rites: Scalp – Not Worthy Of Human Compassion Review

[Cover art by Ricardo Bettazzoni]

I bet you were expecting Albert Pecans, or whatever that idiot’s name is, but he’s not the only one who listens to grind around here. Sure, he’s the only one of us insane enough to conduct a full-discography Agathocles run that is still ongoing after six months, but others of our mush-brained ilk can still perform the Blast Rites over your deathbed. And, today, Scalp is here to help!

Album number three, Not Worthy Of Human Compassion, is the soundtrack for fist fights. It’s the album you put on when you’re training to do stunts in order to raise money for your ailing father, so that he can be healthy enough for you to beat him to death. This is an album that comes on the jukebox at your favorite dive bar, and a massive brawl immediately breaks out. Scalp makes music for when you’re in the Alaskan wilderness, see a 600lb bear charging at you and figure one last listen might just make you powered up enough to take that big sumbitch. I just punched my computer screen while typing this because I’ve been listening to Not Worthy Of Human Compassion on an ill-advised loop all morning.

Our Cali quartet’s 20 minutes of hostility begins with an intro track full of audio samples about young people losing their minds, hallucinating and becoming suicidal. Essentially, the band is laying out its expectations for what would happen to the average suburban Karen if they gave this album a spin. “EGODEATH” is where we truly kick off and Scalp knows what’s up by opening with a wonderfully grunted “OUGH!”Much of the track is a more mid-paced battering, but one part has these double-tap snare hits that seem well-suited to overlay a golfer yelling bam every time his fist connects with some pud’s weak jaw.

Scalp’s violence is well-suited for any pace of battle. Are you leaping over the counter with a rushed fury of flying fists? Then the 34 seconds of belligerent blasting that is “SURROGATEVICTIM” is ready to spur you on. Are you in a one-on-one skirmish with a foe of equal skill that’s full of sexual tension, thinking you might end up kissing a little? The grooving steps of the breakdown in “SHACKLEROT” are the dance number for you that gets downright sexy when it transitions to mostly a bass-led rumble. Or maybe you’re like a shark in the depths, slowly circling an unaware prey, waiting for the precise time to surface and ruin a life. Jump to the 30-second mark of “RIGOVIVUS” and you’ll be ready. By the time you get to album closer “BOTTOMLESS,” its staggering nature will have you feeling right at home after barely surviving the previous 12 rounds in the ring.

The songs and performances are violent enough, but the overall sound of the album helps escalate the hostility exceptionally well. There’s a bit of Sunlight fuzz and grit coating a hefty guitar tone that oozes antagonism. The dry snap of the snare comes through like a sucker punch to the ear. The vocal variety from Cole Rodgers and Devan Fuentes perfectly suits each moment, from pissed-off sneers to gut rumbling lows. The brief guest appearance from Weekend Nachos’ John Hoffman, on “80ACRESOFHELL,” firing off some lyrics about how dumb America is, adds a nice touch, too.

Look, it’s Monday. All of these songs are in all-caps. Your job fucking blows. Listen to Scalp and go demand a raise, right now.