BILE are a bunch of sick, groovy motherfuckers. That's what it says on the tin and that's what they are. Having dragged themselves from the lagoon, they set about re-arranging your insides with some monstrously heavy sonic disembowelment.
Camp Blood reeks of Friday the 13th, the artwork faithfully represents the cult slasher as does the sampling and of course the lyrical blood letting. The scene is set then for some teen worrying and anyone between the ages of 13 to 19 had better stay away from the woods and any open water.
Goregrind, more often than not, leaves me bemused but Camp Blood is a mighty exception, the dynamic range together with the behemoth groove ensuring that you end your listening pleasure with a deranged grin on your face. The album bulldozers between super Sludge and turbo Grind, the hacked up meat of this sandwich though is a predominant mid pace. What impresses most is the sheer weight of earth shaking distortion and how the band keeps it harnessed for maximum impact. The production is opaque to say the least splattered as it is with sanguine syrup, not that that detracts in anyway from the powerhouse effectiveness of the delivery.
For once, samples are used judiciously and actually complement the whole, based as they are on the albums concept. Once the creepy intro to Camp Blood subsides it's straight in with a ten ton battering as the όber-distorted guitars set about demonstrating the art of evisceration. Alternating between mid paced stalking through to adolescent blonde college girl running for her life through the forest speed bursts, BILE crack and crunch along, the titanic reverberation threatening to shake the flesh from your bones. Swamp monster vocals gurgle unpleasant demise in bloody fashion, sounding like they are coughed out from a slit throat rather than a mouth. It's nice to hear an album that sounds as nasty as the subject matter contained within.
Everything about Camp Blood can be traced back to Caveman concept, that is, if you don't like it, smash it with a Mammoth's thigh bone. If you do like it, still brain it with said implement, in fact just crush everything in sight. To this end as well as the guitar, the bass also proudly joins in with the flesh tearing with a fuzzy pounding, the drums bash and clatter as if made from the mud the band crawled out from. Blunt like some of the weapons used, nonetheless they earthily range from a steady tattoo to all out blasting, the snare must have upset the drummer because it suffers mightily throughout.
All this extremity might become a bit stale if it were not for the gargantuan groove gouging through the core of this album, it is a perfect album for testing the strength of your car stereo. Sinister and yet engaging you listen to this album with your hands over your ears, constantly spreading your fingers to control how much you want experience. As a concept it works very well and BILE have ably produced a balanced album that thoroughly entertains.
Camp Blood is the perfect album for ridding the neighborhood of clean cut kids. (Online April 28, 2006)