Weregoat

PESTILENTIAL RITES OF INFERNAL FORNICATION

Portland, Oregon is home to more than vegan food carts, indie bands and punk rock. To balance out all that positive, happy energy they have the likes of Weregoat: grim fiends churning out a hateful, deviant cacophony. Not exactly prolific, their first full album after eight years mines the ancient seams of bestial black and death metal laid down by the likes of Von and Sarcófago, all pneumatic-drill drumming and guttural, deranged shrieks and groans. There are elements of Necrovore’s chaotic divebombing guitar solos and the whole thing reeks of the everpresent chains and bullet belt aggression of Blasphemy. But that’s not to say it’s all fast and evil. Weregoat are equally at home with slow and evil, and indeed mid-paced and evil. Lyrical themes run the gamut from sex to Satan via sex with Satan and if there’s a better title this year than Screaming Forth Endless Blasphemies And Emitting Foul Seed Upon The Pitiful Face Of Benevolence then Old Nick will eat his sulphurladen hat. Not for the faint-hearted.