by Jordan Michael (@jordwhyjames)
The band is Full of Hell. The world is full of hell. I am full of hell. Any questions? If you ever feel the need to get your head bludgeoned into the ground, arrive here. It may not be very often, but sometimes escaping from reality is necessary. Some choose drugs. Some choose long hikes. Some choose yoga. This choice is coagulated noise metal.
On paper, Coagulated Bliss, Full of Hell’s sixth “proper” album, should not make sense. That’s why it is an escape from reality. The band made this to cure themselves of pain, and maybe it can cure you, too. Turn it up to ear-bleeding levels and fuck right off. Try to wrap your head around these song names: “Vomiting Glass,” “Transmuting Chemical Burns,” “Gasping Dust,” “Malformed Ligature,” “Fractured Bonds to Mecca,” and so forth. Their songs are fast and loaded; good luck catching them. The album ends with a withered saxophone. What?
From all angles, Full of Hell is fucking with us. They’re too smart and too angry to care about what anyone thinks about their music. It makes this article pointless. However, let’s try to analyze, or maybe I should slice my own throat open? “Fractured Bonds to Mecca” is hell on tape. A bell is being hit, balloons are inflated to sick levels. The title track rushes a river full of blood. “Bleeding Horizon” is six minutes of welcome sludge, and its placement in the document doesn’t make any sense. Coagulated Bliss is one in a million. Play it three straight times, and float down a river of blackened blood.