You just can’t fake it, you know? That special kind of filth and feeling of utter abomination. You can’t. It has to come straight from your guts, like a sudden urge to vomit. Some say call it instinct, others will probably choose blind devotion instead but whatever it is, BLASPHEMOUS PUTREFACTION is death metal incarnated. But death-metal at its most primal and gnarly, where the riffs are more dragged in the mud screaming than actually performed and where there’s no room for melody nor any other sign of normal human feeling. No, what we have here is disgusting, necro and downtuned madness.
