You know, it’s only recently (‘bout ten minutes ago, to be somewhat exact) that I discovered an utter lack of Dying Fetus reviews on the database of this website. I almost laughed, actually, when I found this out. One of the few good death metal bands that were operating during the 90’s when there was a deluge of terrible death metal, and not a single review! Especially considering all the fans of death metal there are on this team of metalheads. I decided to remedy that situation immediately, with a review of their best, the closest this band ever got to recording a masterpiece, the almost-classic album Killing on Adrenaline.

This album was their first with Kevin Talley, one of the better drummers of the death metal scene. There’s a good load of jazz influence in the way he tries to back up the music more often than not, instead of blazing away mindlessly or just blastbeating until Judgment Day and trumpets sound. Reminds me of a less restrained Gene Hoglan, from his work with Dark Angel.

The mix is incredibly thick, muddy, and dirty as hell. It, of course, evokes the production of Effigy of the Forgotten-era Suffocation, as many things on this CD do, among them the riffs and extremely deep growling that John Gallagher lets rip from his probably-shredded-by-now throat.

The songs utilize a medley of tricks to switch up the unrelenting assault; unfortunately, they’re all dedicated towards making the utter pummeling that this album delivers unto you all the more painful. Varying tempos from ‘man having face dragged through concrete’ to ‘cheetah on an 8-ball of meth’ help greatly, and the riffs are also pretty damned fluctuating from song to song, with powerfully heavy breakdowns, high guitar arpeggios, brutal moshing riffs, and obscenely complex Cryptopsy-esque tremolo guitar runs. There’s also a couple of vocalists on this record, John, the main one and the infamous blunt-spoken frontman handling the vile Frank Mullen growls and Jason Netherton, the bassist, screaming and screeching like a dying bird. All these elements add up to a band that can switch up a bunch of things that they use in every song, and still have songs sound different from one another.

Older Dying Fetus was special. Nowadays of course, they’re absolute garbage (Stop at Nothing is basically a hardcore album with a bit of death squeezed in, and it took me a few listens to determine that), but back then, they were something special among the Suffocation clones, a band that could hold their own in terms of adrenaline pumping songwriting and finger-bleeding technicality.

If you like death metal, you owe it to yourself to pick this fellow up, if you can find it.