This Decaying Schizophrenic Christ Complex,
KoreischKoreisch are a Sheffield based band, that claim to have birthed from a “Fertile Northern Hardcore scene of the mid nineties”, which after listening to this CD a few times (which was no mean feat considering the tracks are up to 11 minutes long) I would have to ask myself where they could make such a comparison? The only genre I’m picking up here isn’t too far removed from a Cradle of Filth album I bought in my years of teenage angst, just out of curiosity. Needless to say that CD eclipses this one for pure terror factor, and I hate the CoF album.
The first track, a 3 and a half minute epic of nothing but feedback and fuzz, is this CD’s finest moment, as the rest of the CD could only possibly be described as hell on plastic. Music that consists mainly of what can only be described as a 1950’s wireless attempting to tune into short wave radio from a submarine, and drum beats not entirely unlike machine guns firing at a brick wall, is not only far from being my cup of tea, it’s an entire aural assault. Track 3 for instance, is a growing crescendo for over a minute of either a World War 2 bomb being dropped, or a kettle whistling to the boil. I’ve not heard music as dull and unexciting as this since clicked the top of a ballpoint pen repeatedly until my thumb hurt, and watching snuff videos of cats being caught in street sweepers.
The rest of the CD follows suit. Bizarre feedback and noises, followed by screaming and riffs that chug for a few seconds are order of the day, and to claim you could either dance, sing along to, keep up with, understand or comprehend this release would be nonsense. The structures to the “songs” are non existent, and the titles are so confusing you’ll need the enigma machine to work them out. Koreisch are trying just that little bit too hard to be different.
If I could tell you one thing in Koreisch’s favour it’s that they’re different. And when I say different, I mean totally nonsensical arty-farty death metal with undertones of fisher price keyboards and xylophones. Save your money and don’t bother purchasing this CD, unless all of the above appeals to you, or you want to boast you listen to either the worst, or the most shocking CD released in recent times.
Lurch
