Iperyt - No State of Grace

Polish musical scene has been an extreme nest for almost two decades now. Be it innovative or not, be it underground or quite the main stream’s followers, bands have flourished on the fertile Polish grounds that are, nonetheless, aggressive.

Iperyt definitely stands up to the legacy of the olds, and actually is an act ‘extremely extreme’. Deconstructing their music to its main components, such as content, form, and concept, all seem to be as massive and primitively chaotic as one can get. The Katowice’s quintet delivers industrialized blackened death: riffing is most certainly death metal rooted, there are dispersed black metal injects here and there though (riffing is actually one of NSoG’s most charming aspects). Additionally, a street like, kind of a punkish, grind attitude (amplified by the vocal performance) is prominent and continuous (often, lurking). As for the industrial suffix, this comes with the drum/ percussion arrangements. Drumming is fake, and deliberately sounding so. The ultra speedy machinery is at times, tiring, but problem is elsewhere to be found: what the very band loves to call “terror techno” (the overall impression given to one with the aid of the fake drum machinery) or “terrorcore bassdrum” (the specific technique the arrangement serves with no other instruments whatsoever) is this unnatural drum/ beat sounding added to their music. Unnatural though, is not merely in terms of sounding (this would be of a lesser concern) but also in terms of human performance. The non – playable speed is a definite minus, even if the band’s desire is to call this innovative. In other words, the quintet will never be able to independently perform this music in front of a crowd. 

Emitting an urban, industrialized groove, Iperyt crowns the music with an evenly barbaric concept (the opposite could apply too): hatred – all forms, all conceptions. The lyric to follow is illustrative, and a personal fave: “I am the rapist’s seed in the anus of your wife”.

As such, look not for delicate manners in this one, artistic touched or technically apt lyrical writing; romanticism is absent. Iperyt is the means for one to detensify inner extremities (better than release your rage on a fellow human being, right?). Most riffage is solid, most drumming is not. A decent second full – length, that could have really been better. Enjoy your city stroll with this plugged in up to your ears.

Grade: 6.5

Tracklist:

1.     No State Of Grace

2.     Scars Are Sexy

3.     A Pocket Size of Armageddon

4.     Antihuman Hate Generator

5.     Blades Of Malice & Scorn

6.     The Antithesis

7.     Keep Your Eyes Closed

8.     Into The Mouth Of Madness

9.     Nuclear Mornings

10.   The Player

11.   In Morbid Rapture

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