Much like Sonne Adam or Altars, Convusing carve a coherent niche from roiling, downtuned, deathly weirdness. Turning these amorphous, pitch black materials into ingenious and engaging compositions is no mean feat. Gorgeous riffs roll and heave in tectonic waves, raining dissonant blows upon your battered soul. The more precise abscissions do recall Ulcerate’s oeuvre, but Convulsing have so much more to offer. Herein lie deep space transmissions, doomed intermissions, and clean-sung laments. This is the kind of fuck-all jam I live for.
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