Today Is The Day – In the Eyes of God – Review

Today Is The Day

In the Eyes of God (Relapse)
by Tim Den

I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve finally been exposed to the most hyped band in the noisecore genre, and it’s made me its bitch. I’ve been hearing about Today Is The Day since my high school days (when the band was on Amphetamine Reptile and touring with Helmet), but God knows why I never took everyone’s advice and checked them out. Most of the new heavy music was just boring me, and who would’ve guessed Today Is The Day was any different? I’ve heard many other equally hyped bands, and most of them turned out to be full of hot air. So, to my misfortune, I kept putting them off for later. But now there’s no escape.

I’ve heard that the band’s previous effort, Temple of the Morning Star, was a bonafide classic. Well, if it sounds anything close to In the Eyes of God, then I’m getting myself a copy. This record is the meanest, most inspirational, morbid, and haunted piece of vile I’ve heard in a long fucking time. In terms of sheer evilness, TITD ass rapes Deicide and Immortal. And they do it without all the silly make-up and postures. There’s no hesitation whatsoever: it’s pure nightmare from the get-go. Eerie, ghost-like singing that switches to hemorroid-inducing screams compliments the frightening madness they call songs. The recording is heavier than fuck, but not so that the interwoven tapestry of the instruments gets overwhelmed. Every little bend, feedback, pinch harmonic, shred riff, and magnet slide up the neck (that’s what it sounds like at least) can be heard… and is terribly offensive to your well-being. The effect it has on you may be different, but what it did to me I will not even go into. All I know is that I need a fresh pair of underpants and someone to put my eyes back in their sockets.

And the drumming. Oh my God, the drumming… Eat your heart out, Gene Hoglan. Go back home to mama, Pete Sandoval. I’m convinced this guy’s not a creation of nature. He’s gotta be scientifically-engineered or something. How can there be so much technicality and so much feel in one percussionist? This man is an absolute deity. I don’t know where main man/guitarist/vocalist, Steve Austin, finds his hired guns, but “I gots to get me one of those!”

As this disc finds its permanent home in my collection (spending most of its time in the “repeat” position), the only complaint I have is that I didn’t discover them earlier. Someone shoot me for that.
(PO Box 251 Millersville, PA 17551)