Treading the Missed Mondays: Brutally Deceased / Office of Strategic Influence

FELICITATIONS, FELLOW FECES FACTORIES.

I HAVE BEEN USHERED FORTH TO INFORM YOU THAT FALL IST UPON US, AND THE TIME OF PUMPKIN SPICE SADNESS IS COMING ROUND THE BEND FULL FUCKIN’ SPEEEEED.

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As the impeccably decimating Canadian permafrost descends from our neighbours to the north and each leaf slowly cripples and becomes just another pleasant sound under foot, so have I had the unfortunate pleasure to sift through a downpour of EP/LP/splits and alike. Tiny gems of it passable solely on the merit of actually paying to have tracks mastered, whereas others have firmly forced me to invest in a company out of LA that promises a more permanent “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” experience, also no one has sex on you or uses your old belongings to steal your girlfriend.

A few such ear-spasm causing hits came from the following better-off-swallowed:

BRUTALLY DECEASED – SATANIC CORPSE

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Alright. Now listen. I love me a good Boss HM-2 pedal as much as the next guy, but when THAT is the first thought you have when you go to describe your band and you it follow-up with comments on how your twin guitar harmonies will leave jimmies all over ablaze, perhaps, you need to calm down a bit. When it comes to the good ‘ole death metal I’ll stand pretty firm on comparing it to food (as I do most things) and just straight-up call it chocolate. Sometimes you get the perfect ratio of caramel, or it doesn’t have nuts in it, or it’s a Crunch Bar. Crunch Bars are sick, but back that’s neither here nor there.

If you akin your sound as a band to Entombed’s “Left Hand Path”, you hand better bring the god damn ruckus. By limp-dicking a few solos, some lyrics just sounding lost to gargle, and a certain Iron Maiden riff in “At One With The Dead” that the laymen may call “taken from” and the artist “inspired-by”, the album has a very little in the way of “unique” songs. Lucky for all of us the final track on the album is call “In Torment We Shall Strive” and we’re lucky because once the two riffs are done being repeated TO DEATH we can move on with our lives.

NEXT UP:

OSI – OFFICE OF STRATEGIC INFLUENCE:

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Sorry, but this one comes with a story. People have been telling me to listen to their music since I had a Fisher Price Cassette player (not a sponsor). Highschool was definitely a good peak, and it included this guy a couple grades under me (“Becky” for all intents and purposes) who wore a golf hat and a scarf every single fucking day, even in the middle of summer! One day he approached me with a stack of thin jewel cases with iTunes covers and tracklists printed on them.

Now, Becky had obviously gone the whole nine yards to make me these, and I wasn’t about to shatter this kid like fine china, so I acted as interested as I could in 10×10 jpegs stretched across the covers and told him that I would take them home and have a listen. Pretty sure Becky is living in Vancouver now. Playing guitar in coffee houses. Life’s odd like that.

What actually happened; I took those CD’s home and put them in drawer, tossed skateboard hardware on ’em and neevvveeer even looked at them again. HOWEVER! After mostly settling into my new home and said drawer seeing life for the first time since, I have in-turn uncovered three buried heaps to accost the ears, but I’m only going to touch on the self-title “Office of Strategic Influence” or “OSI” for short.

As a whole OSI sounds a bunch of Tibetan monk’s were stranded in the Matrix and all they had to listen too was a “Best Of Creed” album. Hitting a solid 4-6 different lines of lyrics per song and repeating them more times than “BBW” has been googled, is a sure way to make me fall directly asleep, also movies with Hugh Grant. The grandest sin, being a SEVENTEEN SOME MINUTE LONG FINAL SONG. Firing right off with the standard four-chord community college douchebag guitar I’ve come to want to light on fire, “The Thing That Never Was” is pretty much “The Song That Never Was”. Instrumental self-wankage at it’s worst.

As always, music is subjective, maybe one of these is the perfect chocolate for your palette, but as far as this guy can tell, these two are better off missed.

Have a platonic week, coffin fillings.

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