Fattura Della Morte is a band not afraid to wear its influences on its sleeve. On their newest EP Ouranophobia (the fear of heaven), if I didn’t know they were from Australia, I’d assume they were from Louisiana. I’ve been aware of the band for a few years and even had a copy of their first EP before I found out this was coming out. If you like your metal dirty and slimy and slow, any of their releases are going to do it for you.

From their album and song titles, you can tell they don’t take themselves too seriously, and I mean that in the best way possible. These guys are DIY ‘til they die. They stay the hell away from record label politics by self-releasing everything, they write the type of songs they like, and by only putting out EPs (the first two on CD, this time around on vinyl only), they never overstay their welcome.

Album opener “The Artist Formally Known As…” is EyeHateGod through and through. Everything you want from a grimy sludge tune is here; saturated distortion, big crashing cymbals, and all the foot stomping headbang-ability that comes along with it. Track 2, “FDM Grimnastics” continues with more of the same head-bobbing bombard, but this time with a decidedly more Stoner bent. At 1:40 we get even slower for an undeniably catchy Electric Wizard smoke break. This is probably the most fun song on the record to just rock to. “Southern European Concave” is the fourth track, and opens with the standard rollicking overdriven bass and doesn’t let up until with about a minute left it seamlessly shifts into a huge Clutch style heavy rock riff. You’ll still find no singing here or anywhere on the record as the grainy bellows of the vocalist Benny help retain its edginess, and keep it from falling into a bit of cheesiness.

This is just a fun record. Fattura Della Morte isn’t looking to break down any barriers. I don’t think there is anything deeper going on here, so if you like your music cerebral, I’d go elsewhere. You’re not going to find anything new or noteworthy, but I’m pretty sure that’s the point. This is swampy, sticky, southern Sludge that makes me wish I drank, so I could sit on my porch, have a beer, and jam along with it.

[Visit the band's website]

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