Gorefest, the Dutch paladins of the crudest and atrocious Death Metal, masters and lords of seminal discs in our genre such as "Mindloss" or "False", were increasingly finding their place in the wild and merciless world of the most rabid Metal and boiling. Posing your ass.
A band, whatever the style, is definitely established, in addition to the delivery of records that are put cipotona to the most demanding parish, with the Live turn. With the live disk that confirms you as a titan, as a name to take into account in the style.
Iron Maiden needed a "Live After Death" to confirm themselves as gods of Heavy Metal. It was already clear, through his first five magnum works, that the British were pure steel, the most accurate metal. But until the arrival of the 1985 album, not everyone paid attention to them. That was, now, what Gorefest needed: to be confirmed. Show your true power, what burned your flame, what hurt your sting. And for that he was born, and chulesco like him alone, "The Eindhoven Insanity". What is said, it is said, is the first Death Metal album live.
What a legend, huh? Your first live album and it turns out that it is the first of a caste. The Dutch anticipated much classical name. Of course, nothing, in a matter of three or four years, Morbid Angel, Deicide, Cannibal Corpse, Obituary, and others, already had in their collection their own "Live After Death". Gorefest, as they had done before in study, opened paths to others. Even his teachers. Touch your balls Students of the gods, and willing to beat their teachers. Dutch audacity, perhaps provoked by so much fumeteo de maria, but daring after all. Courage, balls and killer seal, aura of accurate murderers. Normal, of course, that they were the first to dare to take the step of giving us the sonic witness of how they spent them before the metallic audiences and eager for blood, pain and slow agony.
Recorded at the famous festival Dynamo Open Air (the Donington of the most evil, a Valhalla for those who love the extremely hot) of 1993, a festival in which the Dutch shared the stage with elements of the likes of Mercyful Fate, Anthrax, Biohazard, Metal Church, Annihilator or Fear Factory, "The Eindhoven Insanity" is ready to burn your insides, to make you vibrate like an animal, to give it everything, to which you vomit everything.
Death Metal is pure catársis. All the shit, all the stink you have inside, evaporates, and in a matter of seconds, as soon as you surrender to the anger of the genre. Now, thousands of metalheads are going to join. United by pain, united by Gorefest, and in their fucking best moment, in the stretch, the stage in which it seemed, and without margin of error, that they were going to eat the biggest. Take off your shirt, set aside the dwarfs, avoid the toughest ones and stick in the front row. Squeeze your yellow teeth and hold on tight to the security fence. A tornado is about to make an appearance. The Dynamo is going to bleed. And you, bud, even more. Bleed for Death, son of a bitch. Bleed by Gorefest. They will do it for you, for your legend and, above all, to leave your feat in the annals of history.
"The Glorious Dead", the "Aces High" of the cotarro, which hits the first blow, falls on top of us, without intros or bullshit. The most charged batteries, colleague. Speed, stuck and a voice, that of Jan-Chris, who sticks in his eyes, who tears them off. The neatness of the sound attracts attention, faithful to the original works. The live makes the band more compact and does not deprive it of anything. Faithful to the study, but something more accurate and organic. Warby's battery, perhaps the weakest point of the adventure, does not look like it should. But we speak of a lesser evil, because the rest, with their determination and brave strength, manage to cover the fissure, wound the wound, to the Wolverine, in a matter of seconds. The audience, which has not been all the protagonist that should (in a Live, for eggs, the parish must appear at all times) howls with pleasure as soon as the subject is closed. An injection of adrenaline.
"State of Mind" and "Get-A-Life" are defended to death by their "papis" and they cede to the deadly and overwhelming "Mental Misery" step. Aura to Morbid Angel, especially in the sacra was "Blessed Are The Sick", atmosphere, danger, time for the Groove, for the slight rest, for a kind of slow and ethereal free fall. Vision and unhealthy technique. Warby's drums, now, are going full steam ahead. The band reaches its maximum power. I imagine the first rows, brother: bloody and with mouth wide open, immobile, as if stung by the spider, you are paralyzed, waiting to be a snack of gods. Excrement, yes, later. But, well, being godshit is better than being just a metalhead to use, right?.
"From Ignorance to Oblivion", raspy and lumpy as she alone, leads us to "
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