Goddamn! This album makes me grin so fucking much; admittedly said grin is akin to Batman villain The Joker in his most evil incarnation. I don’t want to sound like I’m repeating myself here, but I’ve said this before – why has this band been missing from my life until now!? Allow me to calm down for a minute… Breathe, 1-2-3-4… Okaaayyyyy. Our Place of Worship is Silence comes from Los Angeles, having released one demo and one full length before With Inexorable Suffering. In their current incarnation they are comprised of two members. I’m going to start getting excited again, because I’d like to know how only two individuals managed to create something like this!
The musicianship is competent as hell, tightly played yet downright furious. Think of Obscura-era Gorguts combined with the absolute contempt of Revenge. The production is among my favorite for this particularly rotten flavor of death metal, where everything shines and nothing sounds like it’s been left buried. The guitar tone is razor sharp, something you could cut throats and wrists with. The bass tone grumbles with a demolishing buzz, threatening to collapse the ground and structures around you. The drums pummel and smash their way through your frail body, macerating you to a pulpy mess. The vocals howl and bark with a demented authoritative power, twisting uncomfortably tormenting delusions through your conscious and subconscious.
This is dark, immense, evil madness with a fine variety of sickening dissonance to intricately accentuate the otherwise dreadfully crushing atmosphere. Be sure to take note of the horrific cover art – a grim reaper standing over a pile of bones, with an aggressive stance, guarding a labyrinth featuring walls made of patches of human skin. You’ll hear all of that in just the intro, while you’re being stalked by a Minotaur high on bath salts and LSD. That being said, there really isn’t a good way to put into words how heinous this album is. You simply need to take the chance, open the box stamped all over with biohazard symbols, and unleash the monsters within.
With Inexorable Suffering is intense as they come, providing a delightful feeling like that of a tour through an asylum for the criminally insane – as a newly admitted patient. I could play this album ad infinitum and never get sick of it – this is over 33 minutes I’m fine being stuck in a time loop with. In a first for me, I ended up ordering a physical copy and shirt of this album before I even finished writing this review. You, my fellow reader, have nothing left to do but buy this album and join the rest of us in the horrific dimension that the sickening monster known as Our Place of Worship is Silence has banished us to. I’ll probably still be there, further solidifying my rightful title of lunatic by the time you arrive. Enjoy the ride, it’ll be fun!
Get it here!