The Acacia Strain, Fit for an Autopsy, and Thy Art is Murder – The Depression Sessions Split EP

9/10

For those who are either slow, unaware, or really slow, we’ll start this little piece off with a lesson. An EP (or Extended Play, A.K.A a Demo) is typically a small portion of songs from an act in order to display musical capability, or release a series of songs in shorter form. A split EP is when a band or two (commonly) will come together to release this type of song on the same release, sometimes in collaboration with each other. The Depression Sessions is what happens when three of the universe’s heaviest deathcore exports create hell on one teeny tiny record and make me splooge in public, at work, where I’m surprised I’m not fired from.

In December of 2015, The Acacia Strain, Fit for an Autopsy, and Thy Art is Murder stepped into the studio and each recorded two songs; one original, and one cover of 90s tune, thus giving us The Depression Sessions, an absolute wrenching-out of everything that could possibly give you an orgasm at the same time. This is a piece of absolute brutality (with several “0o0o0o0o”s to make point), each band bringing their particular vibe both in song structure and sound engineering. Basically, if you didn’t want to wait for a new release of any one of these three, you need this EP, for it will roll your eyes to the back of your head in utter violent ecstasy.
The record opens up with the sweet roar of Thy Art is Murder, still fronted by one  CJ McMahon whom has since left the band. Tears nearly flowed from my ears, as I have sorely missed the stylings of CJ, and I am rather wary of what will from of TAIM after his departure. “They Will Know Another” is an instant classic in the catalog of these Australian assault artists, nothing straying from their usual candor, merely perfecting it even further. Their 90s cover, of course being one of the most brutal songs that decade ever saw, was Rammstein‘s “Du Hast,” which of course was brutifully done all around.

The Acacia Strain then take over with “Sensory Deprivation” and the most unlikely cover I could have thought of, Soundgarden‘s “Black Hole Sun.” The new Acacia Strain track is sick as tits, without question, but the cover is what you really wanna get in your ears. Sinister does not begin to describe the translation between styles.

Fit for an Autopsy round it all out with “Flatlining” and a Nine Inch Nails classic, “The Perfect Drug.” Not being a die-hard before, I can tell you that The Depression Sessions has most definitely tuned my ear to the ferocity that is FFAA, blending together a mental cocktail of, “Why are you doing this to my face?” and “Sweet sort-of-cleans, dude!” to make what is nothing short of a fantastic composition for the fan of anything heavy.

If you enjoy any of these bands, if you enjoy this style of music, or even if you just enjoy puppies, you will enjoy The Depression Sessions. Every band brought their A-game, every producer involved brought out their best, and even the microphones themselves went, “Shit dude, we’re inanimate objects and we’re killing it right now.” Haters will say that the latter never happened; go fuck yourself. In all seriousness, this is a six-song piece that I’ve happily spent the last week wasting myself over, so if a 9/10 from my grumpy ass doesn’t compel you to spend the time with it, then you don’t deserve it.

Written by Jason Greenberg
*edited by Kate Erickson

About Jason Greenberg 124 Articles
On the first day, the Lord said "Let there be Bucketlist," and all of human kind then became aware of the incredulity or abysmally flaccid result on their attempt at Art. On the second day, the Lord said "Jason, go review that show you're going to on Friday," and begrudgingly, a review was made. What the world was for Jason Greenberg before that point is either completely unimportant or mildly pornographic, but the world of today after many years of serving his Queen has brought him opportunity, hardship, and a whole lot of Bucketlist patches on indiscriminate pieces of clothing. You may see him lugging your band's equipment and yelling at you aimlessly about the useless construct of time. You may see him expelling a noise not fully understood by humankind at the end of a microphone. You may even see him swimming in an ocean of poutine, but you will always see him as his true self, a sentient and obnoxious Bucketlist Music Reviews Billboard.

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