Let me just open with the fact that prior to this EP, I have never listened to The Locust. The only link I had to them prior to listening to this EP was the fact that 2 members (Justin Pearson and Robert Bray) contributed work on Cattle Decapitation’s Humanure and the band was mentioned in Albert Murdian’s book Choosing Death (complete with a fucking queer as shit little picture of the band in near downright fetish-esque mesh masks). From the description I read and what I had heard from other people, The Locust sounded like they could either be really awesome experimental grindcore or the world’s largest colostomy bag. Apparently, they’re not only a colossally-sized colostomy bag but are also a colostomy bag that is overflowing to the point where it is flooding rural third world villages and drowning its inhabitants in bile and filth.

To the uninitiated, The Locust is a band that combines aspects of hardcore, death metal, grind, and various other crazed elements into a spasm of musical masturbations. And these guys love keyboards; they love them a lot. Combine this stuff with some classical movements and techniques and you get the two-track, little more than 10 minute EP Safety Second, Body Last. The end product is an unlistenable mesh of spastic instrumentation, over-abused electronics, and some of the shittiest vocals known to man. Seriously, what the fuck is Justin Pearson trying to do with those vocals? It’s too weak to fit any category of hardcore, grind, or death screams; it sounds like he’s doing a half-assed yell with no form or real effort.

Oh, these guys can play: they got technicality down pat. But regardless of their skill and classical wankery, the music is utter shit. None of that skill means anything unless the foundation of the sound can get the ferocity to back it and make it good. To best get at what I’m meaning, imagine that a mad scientist created a mammoth sentient shit monster. This scientist then took it upon himself to educate his creation: taught him the finest in English literature, gave him discussions in philosophical banter and logical debates, and taught him the utmost in mathematics and the sciences. Sure, this creature is part of the upper echelon of intellectuals, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a gargantuan pile of shit.

The same can be said of The Locust. Despite their skill, the final product just sounds like what you would get if you lobotomized and classically trained a group of lethally overweight retards, waddled them into a recording studio with instruments, and let the little mongoloids musically whack off to their hearts’ content. Naturally, it’s going to sound like a fucking prom night abortion. If you know any one that honestly went out and bought this EP with their hard-earned money, hit them with a potentially fatal object.

Written By: Necro-tron