Cadaver Inc.

Cadaver Inc.



Well, lo and behold, along comes back turn-of-the-’90s death dudes Cadaver with a new suffix and a new lease on life in the black lane. Never you mind the stink surrounding the band’s faux-murder-scene-cleanup-service guise of their Web site (recently, landing them in some pretty hot water with the Norwegian Parliament), because Discipline, their debut in their new blackened incarnation, cements Cadaver Inc. a place within this newfangled post-apocalyptic/industrial “third wave of black metal,” the record squarely landing itself alongside Mayhem’s overwhelming(ly genius) Grand Declaration of War, the modern Moonfog camp (Thorns, Satyricon, DHG/Dodheimsgard, Gehenna), and perhaps current offerings from Red Harvest and •And Oceans • formidable company, indeed. Maybe it was band leader/guitarist Neddo’s time spent hanging out with Norse scene leaders Satyr (Satyricon/Wongraven/Storm/Eibon) and Fenriz (Darkthrone/Isengard/Storm/Neptune Towers/Eibon) • the former collaborating with the guitarist on Satyricon’s scathing Rebel Extravaganza, the later making a guest appearance here, along with Emperor jailbird Faust • but Cadaver Inc. eschew their thrash-onto-death mold of yore for a cold, grimy, utterly digitized yet raw-as-fuck black blaze that rubs armored shoulders quite nicely with the just-mentioned album. Got all that? Probably not, and you’d be well within your wits to be completely plastered by Neddo and crew’s assault if not accustomed with black metal’s last two years of sizable (and welcome) progression, but perhaps that’s the point • the other being that, hey, it’s the Naughties, and we’ve all moved well beyond Bathory worship, so move along already, buddy. Basically, take the organic/mechanic graft (e.g., acoustic drums running headlong into drum machines) of Thorns’ eponymous debut album or Dodheimsgard’s 666 International, simmer/smolder with a blitzed-beyond-belief vocal performance from the latter band’s Apollyon (also of Aura Noir • funny how these guys get around•), garnish with plenty of near-thrashin’/near-rockin’ transitions (think Darkthrone’s Panzerfaust or Ravishing Grimness), and you’re within pissing range. Or, in other words, a face-first skid through the extreme underground’s sewer systems. Shit-stinkin’ ugly, but hardly a one-trick pony: that’s Discipline for ya. And a song titled “Reptile Robots”?! Fuckin’ priceless! Sweet cover and font, too.

Earache, 43 W. 38th St., 2nd Floor, New York, NY 10018;

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked with *

Recently on Ink 19...

From the Archives