French extremists unleash unto the masses
'Woah, what was that?!' This is the initial reaction I imagine many people will have when hearing Zubrowska for the first time. Calling themselves 'brutal deathcore' this French band somehow manages to combine the crushing weight of death metal with the energy of hardcore. It's like a runaway freight train colliding with a PCP-addicted sleepwalking wrestler.
The influence of Cryptopsy and Dillinger Escape Plan can be heard at times, especially in terms of the breakneck riffing and unrelenting dynamic that is made all the more potent by having two vocalists. That's right, two vocalists - one who 'screams', the other 'growls', as their press release states. By having two singers Zubrowska manage to avoid the slump of much metal, where vocals are almost an afterthought, a monotone drone that the ear has to filter out upon listening.
There's no real category for this album, though I'm sure the records stores can find space. A track like Vampire Killin' Kit is a demented alarm clock set to ring like a jackhammer and in the process make skulls implode. And who doesn't want that?
At times the music is a menacing and confusing fusion of elements where it seems as though blunt objects are flying at the listener from all directions. It is both exhilarating and tiresome. Sure, there's no melody but there's nothing melodic about a car crash either: it's all about impact. Which is why it's thankful that the album is quite short - ten songs in just over 30 minutes. Otherwise it could get tedious. After all, it might be fun being bashed around the head, but after a while you're going to want an ice pack.
Be warned: this is music of the urinary tract infection. Leg shaking, lip quivering aggression? Zubrowska says 'C'est Moi!'