Plague Soundscapes
The Locust
A couple days ago, we got the terrible news that Gabe Serbian, someone I would consider to be a drumming legend, had passed away. I'm not sure I can properly articulate his talents, but his ability to start and stop on a dime, absolutely thrash on the drums and still have his performances come across as coherent, and perform lightning quick cymbal chokes all-day and still keep his hands is nothing short of astounding. The crazy thing is he pulls all of this off as if it is the easiest thing in the world. Just take a peak at this drum cam of one of his live performances. His posture is stiff. Nothing about his body is animated. Even the way his arms flail don't look human; striking with the power and precision of a robot, or something not from this world at the very least. Speaking of things not from this world, I took this as an opportunity to revisit The Locust's Plague Soundscapes, their second full-length record and the first to feature Serbian on drums after his move from guitar. And this album is absolutely insane. Twenty-three tracks, twenty-one minutes of some of the most chaotic, depraved, and generally unlikeable music you could possibly subject yourself to.
In addition to the concussive and whiplash inducing drums, there's guitars and basses that frantically move all over the neck. There is absolutely no interest in creating a discernible melody, just spreading frenzied panic. The synths will either gurgle unflatteringly or chirp fittingly like... locusts. The real assault, however, comes from the vocalists; all three of them. Guitarist Bobby Bray's scream is a feral shriek, bassist Justin Pearson has a petulant, nasally snarl, and keyboardist Joey Karam just sounds incredibly pissed. Each one's voice (if you would like to call it that) has it's own distinct timbre and all three of them are in the mix at all times; overloading the already fried senses.
There's somewhat of a novelty to The Locust given the lengths the quartet goes to be as repulsive as humanly possible. That's not to say I purely enjoy this ironically. The way the band crafts this noise - the speed, the intricate rhythms, the ferocity in which they attack their instruments - is technically very impressive. At least I think it is. I would implore you to take a walk on the wild side (to put it extremely delicately) and give this one a chance, but be prepared, this could honestly be as challenging as music can get. RIP Gabe Serbian.
8.7
Standouts: Recyclable Body Fluids in Human Form, Identity Exchange Program Rectum Return Policy, Teenage Mustache, Psst! Is That a Halfie in Your Pants
Grindcore, Hardcore (2003) ANTI-. Reviewed May 6th, 2022
