EXCLUSIVE REVIEW: GODDAMN xToiletFlushx, GET OVER HERE AND PEEP THIS [2016]

ARTIST: YOU ALREADY KNOW IT’S THE FUCKING TOILETGANG IN THE HOUSE 

ALBUM: FUCK YOU

WHAT, YOU REALLY THOUGHT THIS ALBUM WAS NEVER COMING? WELL IT’S HERE, AND I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING. “SHOULD I REALLY DEDICATE TWENTY MINUTES OF MY TIME TO SOME BAND CALLED xToiletFlushx?” YOU ASK. “IT JUST SEEMS SILLY.” SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU’RE FUCKING SILLY. WHAT THE HELL ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO DO? REBLOG SHIT MEMES ON TUMBLR? MAKE A XANGA POST ABOUT HOW YOUR PARENTS DON’T GET YOU? THAT’S WHAT I FIGURED, SO SIT DOWN, TURN UP THOSE SPEAKERS AND WHIP OUT YOUR HAMMERS, CAUSE FUCK YOU IS A BARBARIC DISPLAY OF BALL-SWELLING TESTOSTERONE THAT IS BOUND TO GET BOTH OF YOUR HEADS BANGING IN SECONDS.

FUCK YOU IS FAR FROM ANOTHER SHITTY SLAM RECORD THAT SOUNDED LIKE IT WAS RECORDED IN AURORA SNOW’S CLOWN POCKET. xToiletFlushx BRING NOTHING BUT THE HIGHEST GRADE OF USDA-APPROVED, FEED-THIS-SHIT-TO-YOUR-FAMILY BEEF, GIVING YOU TWENTY MINUTES OF CATCHY, CRUSHING ABUSE YOU’D NORMALLY ONLY EXPECT FROM CHRIS BROWN. THE DRUMS ALONE SOUND FATTER THAN TEN ELEPHANTS RUNNING TRAIN ON A BEACHED ORCA, LET ALONE THE ACCOMPANIMENT THEY GET FROM FUCK YOU’S SLUDGY, SNAPPY BASS. FROM THE FIRST MEATY KICK DRUM HIT OF “FUCK YOU,” ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE RAMPANT “EXTERMINATE THOTS” AND LEAD SINGLE “DENNY’S GRAND SLAM,” xToiletFlushx GIVE YOU THE HEFTIEST LOW END YOU’VE EVER IMAGINED, LET ALONE HEARD—AND THIS IS BEFORE WE EVEN BEGIN TO CONSIDER THE GUITAR. IF YOU THINK YOU’RE IN FOR A TRUCK-LOAD OF TECHNICALITY OR SHRED, THEN GET YOUR GOD DAMN HEAD CHECKED. THIS ISN’T A DEALEY PLAZA RECORD, THIS ISN’T GODDAMN PROG METAL—THIS IS FACE-MELTING, PROLAPSE-INDUCING SLAM. “FUCK DJENT,” ODDLY ENOUGH, MIGHT BE THE ONLY TRACK WITH ANY MARKED USE OF TECHNICALITY (BY THAT I MEAN A FRET NUMBERED HIGHER THAN “7,” WHICH IS A FOREIGN CONCEPT TO THE LOT OF YOU), WHILE ANTHEMS LIKE “THE FLUSHING” RELY ENTIRELY ON DOWNTUNED CHUGS AND GROOVES TO HAPHAZARDLY CONSTRUCT RIFFS OUT OF DISSONANCE.

IF xToiletFlushx’s BELLIGERENT USE OF BRUTISH CHUGS OFFENDS YOUR DELICATE “SAFE SPACE” SENSIBILITIES, THEN HONESTLY YOU SHOULDN’T EVEN CONTINUE ON WITH HEARING THE VOCALS AND UNDERSTANDING THE LYRICS. REMEMBER WHEN I SAID THE LOW END SOUNDS LIKE TEN ELEPHANTS GIVING THE WORKS TO A BEACHED WHALE? WELL IMAGINE WHAT THAT WHALE WOULD SOUND LIKE IF IT COULD SCREAM, BECAUSE THAT’S ABOUT WHAT YOU GET FROM THE VOCALS ON THIS xToiletFlushx RECORD. LOW, STRAINED, MEATY BELLOWS THAT SOUND LIKE MR. T TRYING TO SQUEEZE OUT THE BIGGEST SHIT YOU’VE EVER SEEN COMPRISE MUCH OF FUCK YOU. TAKE “DEATHCORE TOUGH GUY” FOR EXAMPLE; TWO+ MINUTES OF GRITTY, RAW GURGLES—AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK IT CAN’T GET ANY MORE INSANE, THAT GUY FROM TRANTOR (FORMERLY THE MORTIS SERMON) COMES IN AND TURNS YOUR WORLD UPSIDE DOWN. THAT HAPPENS PLENTY OF TIMES DURING FUCK YOU—WHICH DESPITE THE RELIANCE ON GIMMICKS AND GROTESQUE LYRICAL CONTENT, MANAGES TO PULL IN SOME OF THE HEAVY MUSIC UNDERGROUND’S BIG HITTERS. “YOU AREN’T SLAM,” FEATURING THAT DUDE FROM THE SOUTH AFRICAN SLAM BAND WITH THE NAME YOUR DUMB ASS CAN’T PRONOUNCE, IS ANOTHER GREAT EXAMPLE OF xToiletFlushx’s VOCAL PROWESS—BOTH IN NATIVE VOCAL ABILITY AND IN SELECTING GUESTS THAT DON’T ENTIRELY SUCK.

“I’M STILL NOT SURE,” YOU SAY. “I CAN’T EVEN TELL IF YOU LIKE IT.” WELL SHIT, I’M NOT EVEN SURE IF I LIKE IT, BUT HERE I AM, HOOKED ON THIS ALBUM. LETS BREAK IT DOWN—BECAUSE FUCK YOU DOESN’T DO THAT ENOUGH APPARENTLY—EVEN FURTHER.

IS IT A MATURE RELEASE? NO.

ARE THE LYRICS “PC”? FUCK NO.

WILL I BE IMPRESSED WITH THE MUSICIANSHIP? THAT DEPENDS, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IMPRESSED WITH HOW BIG SOMEONE’S SHIT HAS BEEN?

IS IT HEAVY? IT FUCKING REDEFINES HEAVY—AND EVEN MORE SO, IT’S AN INCREDIBLY FUN RECORD; SOMETHING THE LOT OF YOU KEYBOARD-WARRIOR, GENRE NAZI SHITZIPPERS HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT. SO SIT DOWN, TAKE TWENTY MINUTES (LETS BE REAL, YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES), AND GET READY TO BE SMACKED AROUND BY A FUN, FURIOUS, FACE-MELTING AND GUT-SPLITTING DISPLAY OF HILARIOUS HEAVINESS.

RATING: FUCK YOU, RATE IT YOURSELF/10

FOR FANS OF: DRINKING BLEACH, CHAIN SMOKING, GARBAGE-CAN SLAM SNARES AND IGNORANT MOSH CALLS.