Seven Foot Spleen

Enter Therapy (Tee Pee/MIA)
by Scott Hefflon

Great fuckin’ name, ugly fuckin’ sound. Seven Foot Spleen is kinda like EyeHateGod, Grief, Buzzov-en and the few tuned-really-low, grinding, dirty-sounding hate-set-to-music bands I actually don’t like, but I like the idea of. Paces sound like a piss-drunk troll stomping about his cave and bashing into stuff, vocals remind me of the grunt you make when squeezing out a dry, painful shit, and guitar “riffs,” if they’re more than a few chords at a time, sound like half a Sabbath riff the guitarist never bothered to finish learning before getting annoyed and simply repeating the first half again. But with 74 minutes of pure, plodding animosity, this is the kinda music metal stoners’d like when in a really, really foul mood, just before smashing the empty bottle of Jack and trying to make it to the toilet before puking their stomach bile on the floor.
(315 Church St., 2nd Fl. New York, NY 10013)