Pissgrave - Malignant Worthlessness

 

My platonic ideal of extreme music is a calculus of density, intensity, speed, chaos, precision, and skill.  Pissgrave fuck this equation sideways with an overwhelming dose of entropy. When the mathing is complete, Malignant Worthlessness stands as close to perfection as it does to oblivion.  So close to noise as to temp fate.  This proximity to "the line" is intoxicating.  For many devotees of death and grind, however, Pissgrave may be urinating on that metaphorical electric fence.
Pissgrave's compact guitar tone is a delight to my ears. The riffs careen across the universe in delightful, spastic chunks that barely remain in proximity to the vicious rhythm.  For legitimate comparisons you'd definitely have to look at the one-hit-wonder that is Dragged into Sunlight.  Malignant Worthlessness certainly matches the vocal absurdity of Hatred for Mankind. Farther afield you might cite Qrixkuor, especially on their debut EP. I'd also call out Paroxsihzem as a spiritual sibling.  
Pissgrave's previous pair of albums made an impression, but my jaundiced ears could not see the forest for the trees.  Maybe I wasn't read to accept the hammer-smashed face into my heart.  In other words, consider Malignant Worthlessness my apology and epiphany.