Review Summary: Reduse, reuse, reriffle.
Beyond The Macabre has dad riffs and uninspired lyrics to the point of sounding like a parody band, and yet… who gives a ***. I like a good old death metal album and this one is just good enough to blast in my car and watch people stare at me because my manliness intimidates them. The growls are beastly and manly and puts hair on my balls and the drums pummel like an elephant falling down a mountain. I forgot to mention this is a death metal album, so deathly doth it sound. Those growls murder, my ears are murdered, and the album makes me wanna murder people until they’re dead. I’m fine seriously, I don’t need therapy. Angry music is good for me.
In other news these riffs are ***ing simple. When I say simple, I don’t mean your mom, I mean the toll isn’t enough for a day pass to Hell. That being said, it’s all good, the production makes guitars sound like a large Yeti in a cave doing a mating call. There’s loads of free cereal box riffs, but there’s Shreddies too and some fruity loops if you catch what I’m putting down. Riffs are heavy enough to scare your mom away so I won’t riff on them too hard if you continue to catch my fart drifts.
Conclusively, I conclude this is a conclusively decent album in conclusion. The riffs are more simple than little kids pretending to have muscles, but I digress. There is much fun in listening to these inhumane growls on top of loud guitars and a battering drum set that sounds like mixing batter on the highest setting. The album is okay. It honestly pisses me off that I enjoy this album considering it’s more average than your mom’s *** oatmeal cookies, but what can ya do eh. I like death metal, even when it’s average as ***, and y’all probably do and don’t want to admit it. I will admit it though cause I’m the manliest of all men. I know this because I drink coffee every morning. But I digress. Good album eh?
