The corpse is bloated, noxious gasses escaping from every conceivable orifice as it settles on the slab prior to the mortician impaling it and cutting open. Organs will be removed and plonked into stainless-steel receptacles, the brain examined and dissected into segments. Yep it’s a new Autopsy album pulled out of its drawer and ready for embalming just a year after their last triumph of morbidity. The creative juices are obviously flowing as they were in the mid 2000’s. You know exactly what you are going to get here from the USDM legends. It’s a bit like picking a scab, you have done it countless times before, you know you should leave it alone and give it time to heal and it is going to be painful but…

The eleven grizzly numbers commence with a ‘Rapid Funeral,’ one of two tracks just clocking over the 5-minute mark. It wasn’t meant to be a fast ceremony but the dead are hungry and up out the grave like ravenous ghouls. Tearing into the mourners with savagery, guitars spiralling like intestines, drums thumping along and rancid snarls from chief examiner Chris Reifert (Medical Deviant). But wait there is also the doom, carried like slow moving coffin bearers by bassist Greg Wilkinson, thick and rugged in the mix. Someone may well have sneaked off for a blunt too (probably that Eric Cutler) as some stoner licks intrude. Stupid move, they are going to be easy prey. ‘Throatsaw’ is half the length. Offal thrown about with wild abandon, squealing riffs, rabid tenacity and chaos at the heart. Slow oozing malignancy and cadaverously purposeful shuffling as prey is stalked but none remain as apparently there is ‘No Mortal Left Alive.’ The guitars do a celebratory jig as the diseased ghouls leave their eternal resting place looking for fresh prey. A scream renders the night “everything is fucking deeeeead” ugh! ‘Well Of Entrails’ has a bit of an Italian gore soundtrack opening the gates of hell to it and we go deep down into the slime to escape but it’s a hopeless exercise as we end up from the slow punishing crawl to be chased by hideous creations and emerge at the title track in the midst of Herbert West’s laboratory. It sounds like he has been liberally injecting himself with the serum and his monstrosities are exuberantly taking over the asylum and creating utter carnage.

This one kind of writes itself but the question is no doubt on your mind, is it any good.? Well of corpse it is, ever reliable, just like a good old gore epic mired with big adrenaline salvos of terror and morbid doses of atmosphere as death and doom unite. These practitioners have been honing their craft since the late 80’s and despite time out for bad behaviour they are masters of it. The second half give us some classic sounding cuts such as ‘Marrow Fiend’ which I can ensure you has nothing to do with growing vegetables. Then there is some irradiated galloping groove in the form of ‘Toxic Death Fuk’ guaranteed to give you a smile as it romps away in a very bitey fashion. By the time we are informed ‘Death Is The Answer’ (like we didn’t know that already) it sounds like our quartet are up to their nuts in guts and throwing them around with relish. Could they have done a slightly better job if they had more time.? Nope, not in this case, overall, this was good, efficient butchery. Autopsy sticking it up the joy-trail with clinical expertise.

(8.5/10 Pete Woods)

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