Dying Fetus — Grotesque Impalement Ep 2011 Remastered
In an era where “remaster” often means “louder and more compressed” (thanks to the Loudness War), the 2011 edition of Grotesque Impalement is a respectful anomaly. It doesn’t try to make a 2000 EP sound like a 2011 album. Instead, it pulls back a grimy curtain, allowing the listener to appreciate the songwriting and performance without the ear fatigue of a poorly balanced mix.
The EP contains only three tracks, but each is a masterclass in brutal death metal efficiency. Dying Fetus Grotesque Impalement EP 2011 Remastered
The Grotesque Impalement EP (2011 Remastered) is essential listening. It captures a band at a crossroads—still clinging to the grindcore fury of their origins but stretching toward the groove-laden, politically charged technical death metal that would define their legacy. The remaster is a triumph of curation, breathing vile, sulfurous air into tracks that were suffocating under subpar production. In an era where “remaster” often means “louder
Fast forward to 2011. The death metal revival was in full swing, and bands like Dying Fetus were enjoying a renaissance in both popularity and production quality. The decision to remaster the Grotesque Impalement EP was a gift to the faithful. This wasn’t a cash-grab; it was a respectful, brutal makeover. The EP contains only three tracks, but each
Dying Fetus has always had impeccable taste in covers (witness their renditions of Napalm Death and Cannibal Corpse). Here, they tackle People-Pressurizing, an obscure Japanese grindcore act. The original is chaotic, lo-fi hardcore. Dying Fetus transforms it into a tectonic, slamming behemoth. The remaster gives this track a new life; the lightning-fast grind sections no longer sound like a blur of noise but a calculated storm. The transition from hyperblast to a crawling, two-step groove is jarring and brilliant. It’s a testament to the band’s ability to absorb external influences and excrete them as pure, American brutal death metal.
For those who obtained the physical 2011 remaster (released on CD and limited vinyl by Relapse Records), the presentation is worthy of note. The artwork—a garish, detailed illustration of the titular act—was cleaned up and sharpened. The booklet includes liner notes and rare photos from the era, showing a young, scrawny John Gallagher behind a mountain of amps. It’s a time capsule. The remastered vinyl pressing, in particular, is a revelation; the low-end rumble of the bass and kick drum is felt physically, turning your listening room into a pit.
