Nucleus tilt at the Demilich windmill, subsuming Finnish death and wrapping it in a uniquely fetid package. Sentient succeeds mightily, trapping weird death metal’s lightning in a bottle of succinct hooks and digestible dynamics. Bass-bright production highlights the requisite rhythmic spasms. Screaming, acrobatic solos are conjured at will. Incantation ooze is wiped all over wriggling riffs. The amalgam is moulded into stellar songs, served up with putrid panache. Sentient has survived the summer’s sweaty ear-hole gauntlet, reigning atop the year’s death-pile. Supreme.
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