Gorphanage – May Cause Birth Defects


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Death Metal has found itself in a pretty serious place. Whether it’s the artily-lit tentacles and elaborate hats of Portal and their imitators, Vastum’s multi-syllabic tales of incest and malevolent sodomy or even the maelstrom of black-and-white drawings of goats and skeletons unleashed by the Nuclear War Now! set, any laughter that’s being had by modern DM bands is taking place behind the scenes – but it hasn’t always been that way. Gorphanage’s self-released debut aims very much takes its cues from the days of Impetigo and Repulsion, when being disgusting and being silly were pretty much the same thing.

Musically, this is exactly what you’d expect from those references – thick, dirty riffs and crude, bludgeoning rhythms topped with growled vocals that are comparatively audible by modern standards. The occasional use of sinister melodies adds a touch of variety, and comedy film samples (another old legacy of a simpler time) break things up a little, but this is not music that revels in a range of tones and emotions.

It’s hard to criticise Gorphanage too seriously when their limitations are so clearly the result of deliberate choices. It’s crude, unsophisticated and frequently childish, but it’s hard to imagine that a band who’ve written a song called ‘Choke On Beelzebub’s Fuck Muscle’ would be too upset at having that pointed out. The band are clearly at their most comfortable at slow- or mid-pace, with the faster passages collapsing into a sloppy mess more often than not – but, again, “sloppy mess” is not a major problem given where the band have set their sights. What they do well is to churn out filthy, primitive Death Metal riffs, and they’ve made that the core of their sound.

May Cause Birth Defects is not going to reinvent Death Metal – it’s not trying to – but it achieves precisely what it sets out to. A silly, childish mash of zombies, mass smurf-murder and mindless pummelling that refuses to make any apologies for what it is, and pays sincere, effective tribute to a time when Death Metal was more famed for its sick humour and dirty riffs than its avant-garde headwear.

7.0/10

RICHIE HR