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Syndrom: With Flesh Unbound
Syndrom With Flesh Unbound new music review

Syndrom: With Flesh Unbound

Brutal Death Metal
Rating: 4.0/5.0

Even if it's already stupid to mention that Sweden is a breeding ground for so many notable bands, this writer will sing Syn:Drom's praises anyway. The quintet belong to that charming Scandinavian lot who've got it all down pat at the very beginning of their existence. Snapping at the heels of the band's last dues paying demo, Syn:Drom embark on an anti-religious crusade with this uncompromising slab of incinerating death metal called With Flesh Unbound. Inside it are ten hammering tracks that numb your eardrums with crunchy riffs, relentless percussion, and Jonny Petersen's lower register utterances. If comparisons are unavoidable, consider them a cross between Six Feet Under and Incantation with lyrical fusillades akin to the anti religious streak of your favorite Vital Remains.

The album is launched by an intro worthy of Nile—kinda boring, really—and the juices don't start to churn until Scorned Messiah lumbers in. As mentioned earlier—and to the band's endless credit—they deliver a complete package by album number one. The constant bombardment of infernal blastbeats, molten tidal waves of guitars (whose very heft overwhelms the near-nonexistent bass, sorry Dani Asen), and Mr. Pettersson's hoarse proclamations that take dead aim at organized religion melts your brain to mush within minutes. In fact, these ingredients are so potent and integral to the Syn:Drom aesthete it becomes tiresome by the time the album has reached the halfway mark. While such brutalizing cuts as In Utter Contempt and Smashing The Face of Belief almost drown the listener in searing hot anti-religious musical venom, more of the same for the next 45 minutes can give you a migraine, which is probably a good thing since this particular brand of death metal makes no excuses about what it intends to achieve.

Production-wise, With Flesh Unbound is crisp and except for the overwhelmed bass lines, the instruments mix like fruit salad even if the result often borders on chaotic. The lyrics never tread outside the straight and narrow path of Christian bashing and by the time the curtains have fallen on the album, expect your CD player/earphones/headphones to die shortly after. Unlike most of this week's albums, Syn:Drom's debut outing doesn't just rock your socks, it nukes the sorry things without remorse.

In Short

Syn:Drom's debut outing doesn't just rock your socks, it nukes the sorry things without remorse.

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