From Bandcamp, “After triumphantly casting off the shackles of claustrophobic dissonance on 2020's lauded "Stare Into Death and Be Still,” New Zealand unorthodox Death Metal legends ULCERATE up the ante even further with mind-bending 7th album "Cutting the Throat of God.” The album explores a cohesive lyrical theme centered around the rupture of morality, the delicate boundary between depravity and extremity, and the irreversible descent into darkness.” It has seven songs.

“To Flow Through Ashen Hearts” is first. The entrance is a slow procession, but something lurks in the deep. When the harsh vocals come in, layers are added into the music, until it transforms into something stringent and unyielding. With the meter shifts and Progressive elements, you get a sense of the band’s musical prowess. “The Dawn is Hollow” is a thick stew with seemingly competing elements. There is a weighted dissonance from the vocals and drums, but the guitars try to squeeze in snippets of melody…just enough to get your mouth watering. The amount of restraint the band shows here is incredible…the wall of frothing water is held back by the dam. “Further Opening the Wounds” is deeper and darker, and the festering wound just gets more painful. One thing that the band knows how to do is drive home that combination of anger and despair. It’s the perfect storm for taking a regular person and turning them into a serial killer.

“Transfiguration In and Out of Worlds” is another builder, and the band has masterful skills of holding tension in the winds. For me, the feeling is that I have risen out of my broken body, to see what lies beyond, and the visions are terrifying. “To See Death Just Once” hears the many layers on the album increase even more. Each one is like a piranha snipping at your flesh, and soon there is another, and another. Whatever hopes you may have had about escaping are dashed with each passing minute. “Undying as an Apparition” piles on the desperate feelings even more, and it’s like the rock that has been lodged in your stomach gets bigger and bigger, or a never ending rain that gets harder and more painful. The title track closes the album, and the darkness grows like a gnarled tree spreading its roots beneath. Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t poisoning all the lands with a sickness that can’t be cured.

This album dives headfirst into a soundscape drenched in darkness, despair, and unrelenting anger. The darkness here is not just atmospheric; it’s almost oppressive, crafted with such precision that the weight feels palpable. Despair winds through every song like a venomous thread, relentless and unyielding. The pacing is methodical, allowing despair to seep slowly into the listener. Anger punctuates the despair, giving each song an edge that bites deep. It’s raw and unrefined, yet controlled enough to feel like a calculated release of pure fury, directed inward and outward. This is not merely an album; it’s an experience—a sonic descent that leaves you feeling both emptied and fortified.