{"id":78665,"date":"2018-04-04T11:00:38","date_gmt":"2018-04-04T16:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.toiletovhell.com\/?p=78665"},"modified":"2018-04-04T07:09:18","modified_gmt":"2018-04-04T12:09:18","slug":"its-safe-to-assume-youll-love-this-assumption-premiere","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/toiletovhell.com\/its-safe-to-assume-youll-love-this-assumption-premiere\/","title":{"rendered":"It’s Safe to Assume You’ll Love This Assumption Premiere"},"content":{"rendered":"
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When I was but a wee lad, constantly making poor decisions based on faulty logic, Mama Dubs used to admonish me, “When you assume you make an ASS outta U and ME.” Although her heart was in the right place, my mother could not have foreseen how wrong\u00a0Assumption<\/strong> would prove her to be, because the only ass<\/em> being made is\u00a0yours<\/em>. Into dust, that is. Get in here for a new butt-pulverizing premiere from the death-doom sweethearts’ brand new monstrosity.<\/p>\n

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Sandwiched between two monolithic tracks on Assumption’s debut effort,\u00a0Absconditus<\/em>, is the tiny (by comparison) yet mighty “Resurgence,” a six-minute banger (in doom terms) that both beguiles and pulverizes. Opening with a creepy flute and synth number reminiscent of the spooky soundtracks penned by 80s masters of horror like Charles Bernstein or John Carpenter, the track beguiles you, pulling you ever closer into a dark, empty space where you’re vulnerable and alone.<\/p>\n

Then BAM! A big ol’ daddy doom riff smacks you right in kisser so hard you’ll be pulling teeth out of your sphincter for weeks. For the next two minutes, that same riff will continue to stomp stomp stomp (just maybe not all that quickly) you into cosmic dust, only occasionally arching back to let some nasty melodic notes sink their hooks in. But just when you think you’ve had enough (though really, you’ll just be wanting more), Assumption crank the heat (ever so slightly) and hit you with an even nastier riff, one accented by a mammoth drum tattoo (courtesy of B.) and psychedelic fretwork. And all the while, vocalist\/guitarist\/bassist\/keyboardist\/flautist G. growls at you in his blackest tongue. By the time that first big ol’ daddy riff returns – preceded by a deranged solo that will make your hair stand on end – there’s naught but up-quarks and leptons left of you.<\/p>\n

And really, your ass (I’m\u00a0assuming<\/em>) wouldn’t have it any other way.<\/p>\n