Senthil is easily the most fucked-up band I've heard. Jumping right in with some Nattramn-esque shock factor, the singers in this Texan band purportedly choke themselves with chains to create some of the vocals, and you'll believe it listening to the music. Shrieks, choking, roaring, gurgles, and general throat-mutilation saturate their music as if it were a recording of the most disgusting torture ever performed in a mental ward. The music is suitably dirty, plodding, and pensive. This is stripped-down, gritty, suicidal blackened funeral doom, so don't be expecting anything close to complex songwriting. Atmosphere is everything here, and there's nothing quite as sick as this. Of note on this album are the toned-down presence of guitars and the increased usage of backing synths, creating a more subdued and thoughtful sound.