The fantastically detailed (and sadistically difficult) game that lay beneath these visuals lives on in the sequel, with an even greater emphasis on the humor.
Think Cephalic Carnage is content to travel the well-worn grindcore path of blastbeats or one-dimensional wall of sound? You don’t know what you’re in for.
Jupiter zips and crashes around the room, its sharp edges colliding with surfaces hard and soft, hurling itself constantly forward with impossible energy.
Local H’s Scott Lucas pushes his singer/songwriter side, featuring lyrics more heartfelt, with personal lovelorn angst replacing his usual cynical crankiness.
All of the morbid dirges one would expect from these doom heavyweights. But take a closer look and there are some interesting pieces of debris in the wreckage.
There’s enough variety to satisfy both old-school knuckle-draggers looking for pure eee-ville and the more adventurous, recent Nachtmysium-educated ears.