Band:	Incapacitate
Album:	March To The Death
Style:	Grindcore, Thrash metal
Release date:	2012

01. Hatol Ng Kamatayan
02. Forced To Fight
03. Holocaust
04. Regain The Territory
05. This Is My War
06. Vengeance Is Mine
07. In Grind We Thrash
08. March To The Death
09. Bayang Minasaker
10. The Bigger The Lie
11. Teach Them Defiance
12. Legacy Of Brutality

Incapacitate is a Chicago outfit in the business of grinding down thrash?or, at least, thrashing up their grinding?consisting solely of Filipino members. How that last bit is relevant here is up for debate, but you all deserve some background info on a band that should, with or without luck, go places. And by "group" I also mean "album," and by "places" I also mean that crooked, well-played stack of CDs on the floor of your cave next to your old boom box and that scattering of Ritz crumbs that keeps coming back on your carpet even though you can't remember eating any Ritz's in the past two or three years.

Short version is, you should buy this. And not just to support an underground band; buy it because they're so fucking underground that this is, for all I can see, not available online. A sad fact for a young band this skilled nowadays.

March To The Death is frequently catchy enough to make you think it's safe to headbang to, then explodes into "I'm gonna hospitalize you" mode. It's one of those things that, were you not to wear a neck-brace while listening to it, you might as well walk around Detroit without a bulletproof jacket. Or live at my apartment without renter's insurance. It'd be unwise. It even has a grammatically questionable "the" in its title. No more evidence is necessary to demonstrate that these guys just don't give fucks.

In other words, their tunes are sadistic, you're masochistic. It's just science. You'll dig this.

It's mazel tov! with molotovs; thrash and grind have been married in holy matrimony without even humoring the idea of getting a pre-nup. The sounds they make together here are the sounds of fucked-up, eternal love. Two genres that aren't by any means fresh have been blended to make something that's simultaneously rotten, and new sounding. It's catchy, but never humane enough for you to get comfortable with it; savage, but never incomprehensible.

Only reason I'm going to shave .2 points off of from a 9 here has to do with the length. This is the kind of album that wouldn't suffer at all for being in the 20 minute range. There's so much crammed into it that by the track 8 mark things start feeling a little redundant.

That's a minor gripe though.