专辑简介

Gorgatron is a metal band from the exciting city of Fargo, North Dakota and doesn’t sound like any of the trendy, breakdown obsessed mall-core bands with the keywords “beneath,” ”blood”, ”remains”, or ”burial” in their names. Nor is Gorgatron another grindcore/tech-death band trying to impress themselves by having more sweep-picking than any other “extreme” band. Their full-length debut, Torturetorium, is about having songs.

Their work ethic led them to record and produce the album themselves, yielding not even as a flooding river threatened their studio and their city during the recording process. No compromises or concessions were made to what anybody else might have thought the album should sound like in order to fit in with what’s happening in the metal scene. Fast, dirty and loud pretty much sums up the tone of this record.

One reviewer had this to say on Don'tfeedthemonkeyz's Blog: "The sickening stench of cold, necrotic flesh infests my nostrils as rows of blood-splattered meat hooks gleam ominously above me. I am surrounded by the mangled corpses of countless, nameless others who have found themselves ensnared in the icy death-grip of the Torturetorium. When my time comes, there will be no reprieve. With each passing second, my death grows nearer. An army of mottled seaweed faces with vacant, death-clouded eyes peer hungrily at me from behind walls of decaying mortar, their crooked grins dripping with pieces of small intestine, fragmented bone, and black bile. Their twisted minds alive only for the promise of mutilation. As the steel door slams shut, I know my fate has been sealed. A flurry of machine-gun blastbeats and serrated guitar riffs whip through the air–no doubt the work of percussive powerhouse Matt Johnson and shred demon Neal “The Real Deal Banana Peel” Stein. My vision blurs as the unearthly incantations of Paul Harvey Johnson viciously shake the foundation of Torturetorium. The undead groan their approval as the trio hammers its way through “Transplanting the Eminence.” Somewhere, a child weeps. The air grows thick with blood, and the fetid stench of death consumes the room. Razor-sharp down-picking, emulsifying drum fills, mind-flaying solos, sledgehammer bass destruction, and gale-force growls are the order of the day. There’s no escaping this three-pronged nuclear assault of zombie grind. With combined elements of Hate Eternal, Morbid Angel, and Goatwhore, Gorgatron’s music leaves a path of unholy destruction in its wake. The maggot-filled corpses sprawled out before me lurch back into life. My pulse quickens as the band launches into a pulverizing rendition of “Visions Externalized." ...feverish cries can mean only one thing: the zombie apocalypse draws nigh. Flames leap from cracks in the floorboards as the tempo rises and a horde of the Undead swarms over me. Warm blood pours down my face, and chunks of flesh are ripped from my limbs. No man should be made to suffer these cruelties. The gut-wrenching sounds of my own bones breaking fills my ears, and the aural terrorism of Gorgatron’s doom-laden “Haunted by Nothing” provides little consolation. I pray that the life be drained from my body before I am finally hurled into the pit of hellfire waiting below me. The band’s death march grows eerily faint as the flames swell."