When picking out the music to play throughout your torture labyrinth, ambience is obviously your top priority. You want something that says "All your hope is going to be ground into anchovy paste" but is still motivating to your victims to endure the worse and try (emphasis try) to escape. WOMBRIPPER's first official debut "From the Depths of Flesh" is your ideal candidate for the job. The reasons why are clear with within seconds of playing. With a forceful studio presence and a desire to cram as many cymbals they can into a Vitamix, WOMBRIPPER makes all who are unlucky to stand in their way, pay merely for existing. WOMBRIPPER hail from the snowy, unforgiving wastelands of Russia... Okay, the city of Nizhny Novgorod, same difference. Their sound is cold and imposing, a raging blizzard with sleet mean enough to nick skin.

"Still Unborn" is punishing in the same way holding a lighter to your hand makes the top layer of skin redden and sizzle. WOMBRIPPER had no problem being hostile before. Earlier releases like "Morbid Abberations" and "Infected Tomb" were plenty aggro already, but WOMBRIPPER decided their efforts weren't big or furious enough. "From the Depths of Flesh" is the band in their white hot, purest form. They take their inspiration from the local Russian Grind bands after all, so they know how to play rough. "Immolation Rites" sees through the searing rage of the previous track and cranks the heat up to brush fire proportions. "Torn by the Nails" is played inside a towering inferno of burning TVs all tunes to snowy static. WOMBRIPPER occupies a dimension full of snaking guitar chords of Eldritchian horror and untold anguish. It's enough to get lost in the endless grinding pits full of endless undulating bass that, sound-wise, sounds like a single solid mass that circles you, waiting.

There are catastrophic mudslides of sound in "The Suicidal Recreation", merciless beatings of an innocent drum kit in "Godless Slaughter", and an intro guitar squeal imitates a heartbreaking flatline sound in "Prenatal Death". WOMBRIPPER gave you fair warning just by hearing their name, don't blame them for your jellied eardrums or prolapsed brain.