Band:	Lord Mantis
Album:	Pervertor
Style:	Blackened sludge metal
Release date:	March 12, 2012
A review by:	!J.O.O.E.!

01. Perverter Of The Will
02. Septichrist
03. Vile Divinity
04. Levia
05. Ritual Killer
06. At The Mouth
07. The Whip And The Body

Lord Mantis turn us into babies. What do I mean exactly? Babies are the only form of human quite content to roll around in its own shit (or other people's, or animal's, it makes no difference to a baby). As we get older we gain instinctive defenses against anything that might contain disease. We recoil at the site of waste, we are repulsed by the smell of decay, we strive futilely to keep ourselves clean from infection, yet, the draw we feel to bands such as this is almost insatiable and when you consider the fact Lord Mantis are like an out of control, shit-filled machine, churning out lumps of foetid, rotting excrement for no real good reason then we become somewhat paradoxical in our desires. We become babies.

You may be unwittingly familiar with members of Lord Mantis. The bassist/vocalist is in fact the drummer for Nachtmystium and VON (for extra kvlt points) and the guitarist also shares duties on those bands, not to mention Avichi. They share their drummer, the excellently named Bill Bumgardner, with fellow sludgers Indian as well. Naturally there's some major pedigree at work here.

There's nothing inherently new on Pervertor. This brand of blackened sludge can be found in the forms of Coffinworm and to some extent a similar tone can be excavated from Dragged Into Sunlight's death-oriented sound, too. Lord Mantis' version of this muck offers a more mechanised groove, primarily mid-paced to-the-face bludgeons, occasionally the tempo picks up quite significantly, on "At the Mouth" for example, but the pace largely remains a constant, using repetition to ground the listener into the mud using the juggernaut drumming and thick tones, save for the odd solo and lick the melody is kept to a foreboding minimum. They aren't afraid to explore their songwriting chops though. The 9 minuter "Ritual Killer" is a tumultuous and challenging affair: downright downtuned crushing slabs flirt back and forth with sullen leads. The vocals are predictably harsh throughout, pointed toward black metal and stained in reverb effects for that extra inhuman bile.

I think you have an idea of what to expect here. One can only paint a limited vision with colourful adjectives. The disgusting artwork is a dead giveaway; this isn't an album you'll be playing at your Grandmother's birthday party. If you have a penchant for the truly vile then you could do a lot worse than metaphorically slather yourself in Pervertor's atmospheric grime. I know you want it. I know you're a sick bastard, you can't hide it from me.