Starvation Of Locusts
Visceral heaven. Just about every town has a sludgy, screeching band lurking around the edges. They’re not all Leechmilk, though. The difference is that this band has honed its sound to a fine piercing instrument. This shit just bleeds. And while music of this sort has no right to be interesting after the second song, the best parts of Starvation come tearing through the speakers toward the end of the disc (cleverly truncated after 27 minutes). “The Garrote,” the second to last track, sent a rare chill up mine spine. Very nice. Not sure what kind of audience numbers they’re getting in fickle Atlanta, but given the recent interest in slow, heavy music, these guys should have no problem finding a decent label to back ’em up.