Reaping Flesh – Abyss Of Existence
Release Date: 16th June 2023
Label: Redefining Darkness Records
Bandcamp
Genre: Death Metal
FFO: Obituary, Death, Autopsy, Massacre.
Review By: Phill Thorne
This collection from the Milanese death metal trio Reaping Flesh entitled Abyss of Existence is, for all bar the first minute or so, a breathtaking physical assault on the ear.
The opening track on Abyss of Existence is “Garden of Grief”, a short atmospheric piece immediately allowing the listener to get acquainted with the fact the next twenty-odd minutes are going to take them to some gloomy places.
This could have easily been an opening part of the next track “Elements of Life”, the recent second single, which accelerated in at a great speed, very much in the style of Obituary. Not quite sure these two are separate tracks, I’m categorical that the listener will not skip through track one to get to track two. The chugging harshness of the rhythm backs the theory of Obituary influence up, with the Floridian giants of the genre no doubt appreciating this homage.
The brutality doesn’t stop, it is unrelenting. “Lies of Existence” powers through with a merciless level of drumming from the unyielding Federico that lurches from pacey to almost chant-like rhythm.
“Self-Incarnation” was the first track the band released from this gathering of writings a mere two months ago, and lead singer Andrea is quoted as saying that this track “relates to an instantaneous moment of evolution from the void”. Well, that void is a dank wilderness littered with corpses.
“Pit of Eternity” is a head rush. A rapid, convulsing, suffocating one at that. Guitarist Marco is proving to be epic at malevolent riffage and, just shy of three minutes, is the track that I feel encapsulates the whole collection, like a very brief plot synopsis.
“Fear Without Shape”, the finale, goes in a slightly different direction, albeit still with a sense of impending doom. Maybe it’s because I’m a 90s lad but picking up riffs and melody resembling Paradise Lost in betwixt the unearthly slow grotesque death of the opus almost leads you into thinking, “What’s next?”
(3.5 / 5)
