I got into writing reviews almost by way of a curse. When I started my first band in high school and began learning how to write and play music, it ruined the experience of listening to music for me. The peek behind the curtain combined with the subsequent musical obsession seemed too much for my wormy little brain. I would neurotically deconstruct all my favorite songs in the hopes of figuring out how they worked. Many years later, in an act of uncharacteristic confidence, I decided to become publicly vocal about it and started the House of Grindcore in 2015.
The actual act of writing reviews is a journey in itself. It starts with listening to the releases either in my car or via earbuds while at work. Although, that lends itself to a whole host of problems. Have you ever seen that movie Memento? Guy Pearce plays a guy without a short-term memory, who is trying to solve the murder of his wife and survives off of writing vital information on Post-it Notes and Polaroids. Without making this too convoluted, there's a scene where Carrie-Anne Moss provokes him into hitting her by badmouthing his deceased wife. She then leaves, taking all the pens from the room with her. As he scrambles to write down the incident, she merely waits until he eventually forgets the original provocation, allowing her to take advantage and further manipulate him. Likewise, I often find myself driving, unable to take notes, or at work struggling to find a pen and paper until I inevitably get distracted and the review I had in my head dissipates into the ether.
At the possible risk of more self-detrimental illumination, it's safe to say that writing a grindcore review blog in this day and age is obviously redundant. If you have the ability to read this, you have the ability to listen to any release that I could possibly write about. Not to mention, blogs haven't been en vogue since Lost was on air. The only real benefit to writing reviews would be a promotive online presence for bands and their releases. Yet, at the time of writing this, I'm so far behind that any hope of a timely promotion is going to be largely lost. The worst is when the wait for the review is longer than the tenure of the band.
In 2024, the obscure band AssCock released the EP, Parasitic Depression. The band's combination of noise, grindcore, and goregrind made for a chaotic release, to say the least. The avant garde noise-grind record seems to be the only output from the band who apparently have almost no internet presence and no legitimately named members. I believe the EP solely exists on Bandcamp and YouTube.
Instrumentation on Parasitic Depression takes a backseat to the noise elements, for sure. All the drums and guitarwork are distant and shallow. The guitar sounds like it's played through a ten-watt practice amp—completely blown out—gain all the way up. The thick fuzz of the guitar makes any distinction between notes or riffs or background static fairly impossible. The guitar on track "Cardiomegaly" sounds like just disjointed chords seemingly played at random and is the most distinct and clean the guitar appears on the record.
The drumming is there, but can be illusive within the mix. You can hear it more towards the beginning of the EP and at the end. However, most of the blast beats are overall eclipsed by the noise. The cymbal crashes are the only things that cut through the mud. It's almost an aural Magic Eye experience trying to listen for the full kit. "Necrosis Of The Body And Mind" is the most traditional sounding track on the EP, as far as the guitar and drums working together.
The vocals on the EP are certainly of a distinct nature. They sound like an intermittent chorus of deep croaks and goregrind gurgles. They're kind of like a far off creek of bullfrogs. They don't have any real presence or rhythm. It reminds me of when you're at the dentist and the hygienist has your head in her lap and you can hear her stomach growling through her scrubs.
AssCock's use of harsh noise appears to be priority for Parasitic Depression. Songs are thick with blazing distortion and crushing static. Some songs sound like the band attached a guitar pickup to a straw sucking up the last persistent remains of a milkshake in the bottom of a cup, or like a set of janitor keys in a garbage disposal, or a hail storm on a tin roof. The last track, "End Of Times Jam," sounds like a discordant jazz-grind number performed with drums and someone tapping their thumb on a quarter inch instrument cable jack while it's plugged into a live amplifier. What is most constant are the liquid-esque, retro science-fiction phaser effects throughout the EP. I didn't care much for them. They seemed like space filler with no real necessity.
Now, Parasitic Depression is art and art is subjective. It has it's merits, but this EP is definitely not for everyone. This falls into that "niche of the niche" folder. Parasitic Depression is more raw, low-fi, and dirty than most of the releases that come my way. The whole EP sounds like it was recorded in a moving cargo van hauling down the highway. The songs are presented in an almost molecular gastronomy version of grindcore; elements are broken down into raw essentials and presented separately and indiscriminately.
Personally, I would have liked a little more presence within the mix, especially on the drums and blast beats, to really own that "grindcore" identifier. But AssCock definitely had a vision and definitely made choices for a reason. I'm not going to pretend to know the noise scene or criticize the standards of the genre. So I'm not going to say this is a bad release, because it's not. I know for a fact it has its fans, but AssCock is a bitter cup of tea that will certainly have some listeners clicking away.
FFO: (???)
Listen to the album: https://asscock.bandcamp.com/album/parasitic-depression
