Grisly. That’s the Body Shame default setting.
Grisly, loathsome – no, self-loathing (duh, Body
Shame), and confrontational. The PDX band batters its own self as it cycles
through HEALTH and NIN presets, swiftly, mercilessly, and unafraid of
collateral damage. Here are the six song titles, and you tell me you can’t hear
them in your mind, played on instruments that are falling apart, taped and
roped together only to be smashed to utter bits in the end: “Drifter,” “Vampyre
(Richard),” “Werewolf (Albert),” “I’m Not What I Am,” “You Disgust Me,” “Eat My
Fear.” Clearly a focus on monsters and disconnect and bridges in various stages
of “aflame” and “molten.”
And so this EP quickly scorches the earth it flies over.
It does so with clusterbombs of malevolence and anger, injecting dread into the
listening populace. As such, it’s perfect for the disaffected among us, those
dissatisfied with how their lives are turning/have turned out, those of us
searching for avenues down which to direct our wrath. Body Shame gives us that
seething, screeching avenue, a cathartic primal blast of
industrial/noise/post-punk that cascades in shards through our bodily wires,
boiling our blood and frying our veins. Hey, sometimes we need that.
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