- ANTI-MUSIC (GRINDCORE) - Logo SHORTS
- UNDERGANG - Logo SWEAT PANTS
- SPARAGMOS - Invitation From Host Of Wrath CD
- HYPERDONTIA - Logo SHORTS
- NASUM - Logo PATCH
- NASUM - Helvete T-SHIRT
- CLOUD RAT - Psychic Void Drawstring T-SHIRT
- PUTRIZINE #1 zine
- SENTIENT HORROR - Morbid Realms CD (digipak)
- UNDERGANG - Logo TRUCKER HAT
Diabolical in its minimalist approach, the new album from Tokyo-based duo Legion Of Andromeda wormed its way deep into our brain upon first hearing it, unleashing a grinding nightmare of violent, industrial doomdeath rooted in a barbaric simplicity, moving in endlessly cyclical percussive patterns. First released on vinyl by Unholy Anarchy (North America) and At War With False Noise (Europe), Iron Scorn is now being reissued on CD by Crucial Blast to further the blast radius of this immense debut album.
This album has a strange effect upon certain listeners, ourselves included; as opener "Transuranic Ejaculation" bellows across the first moments of Scorn, the band's combination of primitive bone-crushing riffage and minimal, mechanical tempo seems overly simplistic, even monotonous. Each song centers around little more than a pair of interchanging riffs that circle endlessly over a nonfluctuating mid-paced drumbeat that rarely deviates from a simple combination of metronomic crash cymbal and rumbling double bass. Keep listening, though, and Legion Of Andromeda's seemingly atavistic heaviness begins to reveal a perversely hypnotic quality, the brutal repetition and savage cyclical flow of these seven tracks turning into surprisingly infectious blasts of ravenous, concussive doomdeath. And it's topped off with repulsively bestial vocals that frequently devolve into psychotic gibberish or rabid snarling vocalizations, all of which lend an added unhinged vibe to this rigid, skull-flattened dronedeath assault.
Legion Of Andromeda have hacked out a uniquely vicious sound, and shares as much disgusting DNA with the grinding industrial metal of bands like Dead World, Skin Chamber and Streetcleaner-era Godflesh as it does with the putrescent doom/death of Autopsy, Cianide and Asphyx, brilliantly fusing the devastating down-tuned chug of the latter to the repetitive, belt-driven clangor of the former, each monstrous track churning through the black cosmos like a mechanical warbeast comprised of gnashing teeth and interlocking gears, terrifying and trance-inducing, with equal nods to the heaviest strains of industrial metal and the most primitive depths of black/death violence.