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Shooting Oblivion: Agents of Abhorrence – Relief

May 3 • Reviews, Shooting Oblivion, The Slumbering Ent • 4317 Views • No Comments on Shooting Oblivion: Agents of Abhorrence – Relief

As part of our Shooting Oblivion series Dipankar Mohanty reviews the  Agents of Abhorrence album Relief, released via Blastasfuk Grindcore


01. Thousand Year Seesaw 02:13
02. Everything Fails 00:49
03. Relax 01:06
04. Self Contempt 00:49
05. Expression Of What 01:00
06. 100% Negative 00:20
07. Pirahna 00:37
08. Rotten In The Blocks 01:28
09. Come To Grips 00:44
10. Absorption Method 00:46
11. Under The Weight Of Its Own Face 01:15
12. Bad News 00:32
13. Ward Of Broken Neck 01:04
14. Without Another Chance To Get It Right 01:12
15. The Mistake Again Made, The Proof Again Put 00:41
16. An End To Its Abuse 00:32
17. It Doesn’t Exist 00:42

A 16 minute album, eh? Why even make a CD? Alright, on a more serious note; some of the top grindcore albums are short and you know why, because it freaking works. This little of piece of 16 min machinery that basically obliterates everything in its way, and that includes the grey squishy matter inside my skull. Blastasfuk Grindcore has built up quite a name for itself, signing some absolutely mind-blowing bands that have done justice to the none-holds-barred spirit of grindcore. It’s a damn good label goddamnit! Head’s up, this is a very short burst of pure and unadulterated grind. The list of old and new influences are immaterial here because the album holds on its own. The band’s crunchy guitar is supported by some precise riffing and thundering blastbeats. Plus, the vocals are at par with the intensity of the album. Think Insect Warfare, Death Toll 80K and Internal Rot and you would be spot on about the music. Blastasfuk has churned out some beauties in recent times (The Kill, Internal Rot, Roskopp, Fuck I’m Dead, Lycanthropy etc), so people who haven’t heard any output from the band can buy this blindly because they too deserve a bit of happiness in their lives.

Just stream the album below.

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These dreams of dread, I sprout, All souls so weak, they rout. These gnarled roots of mine, they bind, All souls of so feeble, a mind.

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