“Genesis undone, now forevermore.”
Slam, for better or worse, has been the proverbial punching bag of extreme metal for the better portion of the last decade. While not universally applicable to this partition of brutal death, quality (derogatory) is now seemingly measured by meme samples and air horns, rather than the gunk-laden rudiments that initially made it the sonic conceptualization of putridity. As such, the roots of slam have become all the more perplexing relative to what it’s morphed into. Internal Bleeding and Suffocation pioneered slam’s de facto elements at a time when most of death metal was renowned for a singular, breakneck speed. Lo and behold: Effigy of the Forgotten and Voracious Contempt were subsequently unleashed before most who are reading this were even born.
Hardly anyone would refute slam’s origins with respect to Internal Bleeding coining the term and Suffocation patenting the slam riff, yet by the same token, even fewer would question Devourment‘s eternal influence on slam as a whole. Molesting the Decapitated was, is, and always will be the gold standard slam album. Toad vocals, amplified groove, and jackhammer-to-the-jugular gravity blasts were, by all accounts, the textbook definition of new and refreshing. Devourment‘s inspirative blast radius is infinitely far-reaching at this point, with every serious slam act bursting at the seams to match, if even to a fractional degree, the Texas outfit’s rancid prowess. From a pure tonnage perspective, there may not be another band in existence as heavy as Devourment, making a near spotless discography all the more impressive.
Many (including yours truly) thought Obscene Majesty would be their pinnacle of mellifluous mass. Eight-string guitar, Ruben Rosas and Brad Fincher back on vocal and drum duties for the first time since 1999, and production akin to having sepsis-riddled sludge shoved down your throat whilst being chemically castrated served as a staunch reminder of who the true kings of slam are (as if there was ever any doubt). By conventional wisdom alone, there didn’t appear to be any conceivable way in which Devourment would be able to outdo themselves. Oh, how we were sorely mistaken.
Pious Impiety, given the circumstances in which it surprise-dropped this past week, would’ve likely been considered malpractice had anyone else released it. Devourment are exempt from just about every unwritten rule based on legacy alone, and an unwaivering determination to fully negate complacency further cements that status. Pious Impiety is not merely a sign of life release, but yet another maturation of Devourment‘s well-established approach to slam that’s kept benevolently misguided imitators vying to reproduce their sound for the last thirty-one years. For those still looking to match the overlords of slam, Obscene Majesty was the reminder, and Pious Impiety is the penultimate final warning: the only viable option left is to give up.
In an instant, everything that’s made Devourment‘s jarring flavor of slam insurmountable to everyone else is front and center. The titular track packs Fincher‘s signature buzz grinds, Rosas‘s uniquely unmimetic gurgles, and the stringer pair of Dave Spencer and Stabbing‘s Marvin Ruiz‘s channeling of the mid-tempo signatures of Molesting the Decapitated. In every sense, Devourment emphasizes their familiar characteristics but with a vastly more asphyxiating means of execution. Regardless of whether things are in fifth or third gear, every waking second of Pious Impiety is like filling an oxygen tank with mustard gas.
More so than other genres, production can often make or break slam. Sure, many unserious acts skip the equalizer and blow out your car speakers for no other reason than self-induced headaches. However, when it comes to genuine artistry (which is an increasingly rare commodity in this realm), convulsive engineering to the point of trapping listeners in an acoustic decomposition chamber should always be the goal. While not siloed to Devourment exclusively, the notion of “filth” has been particularly ubiquitous with them from the very beginning. Thanks to the impeccable production work of David Schmuck on Pious Impiety, Devourment‘s proximity to auditory disgust has never felt this prevalent. Drums that sound like a malfunctioning industrial nailgun rapidly firing? Strings tuned lower than the depths of hell? Vocals wrought from the disciples of Lucifer? Yes, yes, and fucking yes. No one can prove what the underworld’s aural constitution may be comprised of, but Pious Impiety, if nothing else, offers what could very well be a supposed glance.
With Devourment, it’s all about the intangibles. The previously mentioned vocal performance of Rosas is just another instance of the many constant separational facets of Devourment‘s catalog that have kept them on slam’s throne. It’s routinely stressed that vocals should be thought of as another instrument, and Rosas just so happens to take that proposition to the furthest extreme possible. In between what Fincher, Spencer, and Ruiz pull off, Rosas supplements vocally on a scale that feels impalpable. When Devourment dials back, this is forefrunt. If you’re searching for the shining example of augmentation, look to “Advanced Stage Decomposition“. Much of its slower sections are dominated by Rosas scraping plaque-filled gums on asphalt overrun with potholes, almost as if the molten molasses riffs weren’t punishing enough.
The acquisition of Ruiz could turn out to be one of the best decisions Devourment has made in terms of personnel. Spencer and Ruiz seamlessly gel throughout Pious Impiety with no holds barred. “Mortiferous Dependency” is a full showcase of methodical vicegrip tightening around the cranium, thanks in large part to Ruiz and Spencer‘s syrupy chugs. It’s apparent Ruiz has transivetely integrated shades of Stabbing into Devourment, and this has only exacerbated the sheer weight of Pious Impiety. Despite a lean, three-track exhibition, it doesn’t take long to realize this is Devourment in their best, and hopefully final form from a lineup standpoint.
Pious Impiety is concise and to the meathook-tipped point. Devourment has long passed the stage of needing to prove anything and is now clearly taking the opportunity to decouple themselves even further from the sophomoric stereotypes that slam has amassed over the years. Above all, Pious Impiety stands to be a vital lesson in that, regardless of the watered-down brand of slam dominating a good portion of the modern landscape, there are still a litany of ways to create something that embodies unfeigned slamming brutal death metal. This, we can only hope, is the appetizer for an unforgivingly torturous full-length on the horizon for Devourment.
