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CAUSTIC WOUND
Grinding Mechanism Of Torment

Profound Lore (2025)
Rating: 8/10

As the title suggests, the sophomore full-length outing from these Seattle, Washington-based lunatics is no sunny walk in the park. If you’ve never experienced the force that is Caustic Wound then prepare yourself for a very violent rollercoaster ride which ends in your death.

Grinding Mechanism Of Torment features 16 songs, 28 minutes of total upheaval and tumult whereby hammering stop-start grindcore fits and spasms with erratic aplomb. Strap yourself in for a grindfest cauldron that bubbles with rancid chunks of Terrorizer and Napalm Death respectively. The production is cleaner than gnarly debut Death Posture which was puked out five years ago, but this doesn’t affect the unhygienic bludgeoning of this platter.

The blast beats puncture your lungs like machine gun fire, the bass pummels you like a paving slab to the skull, the leads fizz and slash like razor wire to the throat, the riffs act as wet concrete poured into every orifice and the vocals shred your ears. This is the sort of situation whereby reviews are pointless because one can only truly appreciate the experience by diving in to the flesh grinder. I’m not quite sure how to describe the howling solos and utterly psychotic pattern shifts, except to say that I wish John Zorn was here to add further unstable noise.

I suppose I could pick random songs like ‘Blackout’ which begins with a slow, grimy riff before the hyper tension kicks in and all becomes a frenzied killing spree of thrashing death-grind led by vocal yaps. Or how about the opening 26 second title track with its bile coated bass and general audible feral carnage. Amongst the glut of grit and grime ‘Technologist Hell Future’ stands out due to its straight up death metal groove; a mid-tempo bulldozer that eventually succumbs to brutality. ‘Blood Battery’ is similarly grotesque, rumbling at its core with mid-paced horror and gruff vocal smears before the one-minute mark signals the descent into maniacal rage.

The mix of pace makes for such a foul air of unpredictability, case in point being the savage ‘Sniper Nest’ and then the seven-minute monster ‘…Into Cold Deaf Universe’, a gargantuan slab leaking with old school pus before a flurry of percussion and grinding riffage bursts the clot. It’s a massive way to end the journey. Yes, there are some straight-laced grind assaults embedded within the toxic mire, such as ‘Dead Dog’ and ‘Human Shield’, but there are some truly sonic and bewildering variations here and by the time you’ve completed the task your intestines will be in your skull.

Neil Arnold

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