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Morbid Wizard, Lord of the Rats: Sludge as Fuck

The dudes that comprise Cleveland dirt-worshiping sludge outfit Morbid Wizard have long been kicking around the Midwestern underground in bands like Fistula, King Travolta, Sollubi, Bibilic Blood, Ultralord and Rue. Drummer Corey Bing, for example, has been in all of those bands and others. Vocalist Jesse Kling was/is also in Pennsylvania Connection and helms Land o’ Smiles Records, whose anti-CD stance is heartfelt enough to relegate Morbid Wizard’s debut, Lord of the Rats, to a self-release, and guitarist Scott Stearns provides artwork here for the DVD case and has also lent his manic style to several of the bands listed above as well as to Centinex, Nunslaughter and others. It is an impressive, if self-contained, pedigree, and speaks volumes of the dedication of the members of Morbid Wizard – which is rounded out by guitarist Bahb Branca (all the bands above save Bibilic Blood and Pennsylvania Connection) and bassist Mike Duncan (ex-Fistula) – and if Lord of the Rats is anything, it’s the latest installment in an ongoing series of visceral sludge releases from these players. One could obviously consider it coalesced in some way, since the five-piece are obviously familiar with each other’s work but have now emerged in this form, but that doesn’t necessarily speak to the seven songs that comprise the album itself, which bear the stylistic fuckall typical of this scene and so sound loose, harsh in their production and adherent to any number of prescription pharmaceuticals as well as the lessons passed down from Grief, Buzzov*en, Crowbar (who especially shine through on the title-track) and the ever-present Eyehategod.

At its heart, Lord of the Rats is of its genre, but Morbid Wizard inhabit the nastiest, most abrasive corners of sludge. There’s no bringing in elements from other extreme metals, no real fucking with the formula unless you want to count varying the pace from the lethargic (see opener “Choked Out by the Hand of Doom”) to the vaguely less lethargic (see the later “Death Sun”), but they have a habit of incorporating shredding solos over the chugging riffs, and that does well to break up the monotony and present an illusion of motion. Kling adds periodic samples and noises, as on the near-12-minute closer “Incantation” and unrepentantly plodding “Puke God,” not so much offsetting his vicious unipolar screams as adding to the overall fucked up sensibility of the record. As a rhythm section, Duncan and Bing are relatively straightforward – the former sticking mostly to the riff for guidance and the latter grounding some of the more horrifying material on Lord of the Rats by keeping time on the bell of his ride cymbal – but at no point is any other approach warranted or even appropriate. A song like “Mutilation,” which follows the opener, is so simple in its basic undulations that to doll it up with indulgent technicality could only detract from the effect on the listener. Like the best of sludge, the bulk of Lord of the Rats is basically punk rock played at quarter speed by misanthropes. Both “Mutilation” and “Death Sun” (the two shortest cuts, hovering on either side of three minutes) stick to one central riff, and even where Morbid Wizard offer some versatility in the relatively fast tempo “Lord of the Rats” takes on toward its end, the vibe is so consistently wretched and ugly that it’s over before you notice it. Or maybe that’s the pills kicking in.

Either way, I wouldn’t be looking for Morbid Wizard to wind up with the mainstream critical acceptance that, say, Weedeater, have managed to cull over their time, as Lord of the Rats not only ignores accessibility as an option but seems to actively work against it. As ever for these players, there’s going to be a select few outside their community who get down with what they’re doing and far more who either never encounter it or pass it over when they do, either out of ignorance for the context in which it’s being created or just a general human aversion to that which is unpleasant or threatening-sounding – which these songs most definitely are, and rightly so. Nonetheless, as Kling shouts commands to choke on “Puke God,” there’s clearly artistry behind the madness and paranoia, and that’s no less true on the ultra-punishing “The Perfect Skull” as well. Limited though the outward appeal is going to be, and limited as the number of people who are going to be able to embrace it is going to be, Morbid Wizard’s hateful spew is all the more special for its polarizing sound. As much as it’s in line with other bands and albums these players have concocted and how the style has evolved over the last decade, Lord of the Rats has promise too as another outlet helping to further establish Ohio as a center of American sludge.

Morbid Wizard on Thee Facebooks

Land o’ Smiles Records

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