Agoraphobic Nosebleed were one of the few metal bands that actually were extreme. Their 1998 debut, Honky Reduction, helped inspire the "drum machine grind" subgenre. With minute-long bouts of smashing everything into nothing, grindcore was already absurd. Replacing human drummers with machines added an extra layer of absurdity. Now bands could crank speeds up to inhuman levels. As plastic percussion flailed away below thrash and death metal riffs, the various vocalists of Agoraphobic Nosebleed extolled drugs, guns, and fucking. It was the sound of civilization's decline, sold at Toys "R" Us with hazardous metal parts.
This aesthetic culminated in 2003's Altered States of America, which crammed 100 songs into 20 minutes. It was not an album so much as a temper tantrum. Songs ended just as they started. Drum machines came to life, administered brutal tattooings, and went to sleep, all in the space of seconds. The multiplicity of tracks challenged notions of what constituted a song. In its own cheap way, Agoraphobic Nosebleed shredded time into shards. Artists as diverse as Merzbow, Justin Broadrick, and Delta 9 picked up these pieces and reconfigured them on two remix efforts, ANbRX and ANbRX II. Agoraphobic Nosebleed the idea had become as important as Agoraphobic Nosebleed the band.
Agorapocalypse is disappointingly listenable. Song lengths are up, exceeding two and three minutes, and the songwriting has diversified. Instead of simply beating listeners into a pulp, songs now speed up, slow down, and breathe. Katherine Katz, of doom metallers Salome, adds refreshingly aggressive female vocals. Male yellers Jay Randall and Richard Johnson still laud the usual taboos, with lurid artwork to match, but the setting feels much more mature. Scott Hull's drum programming now resembles human playing. The album opens with a faux live show lead-in; digital wooden drumsticks count in passages; "Question of Integrity" features an impressively realistic drum solo. Hull's guitar playing has also become more conventional, with extended (for grindcore, anyway) leads that don't get much airtime in his other gig, Pig Destroyer.
Maturity and humanity don't befit grindcore. The genre is about pushing limits and pursuing the perverse. Now, instead of an overheated drum machine, the beats could be played by a human (albeit an insanely athletic one). Even with fairly developed songwriting, as is the case here, one truth remains immutable: grindcore drags after about a minute. This record should be a jackhammer beatdown, but it merely feels like a very competent metal demo. Ten years ago, this record might have blown minds. But Agoraphobic Nosebleed has become a victim of its own innovation. Having pushed the envelope so far, it now sounds normal. In grindcore, that's a failure.
