Grim times give birth to grim tunes, and BSBC have vomited up another awesome slab of blackened industrial disease from their collective stygian maw that sounds like the condensed dread that starts gnawing away at my guts every time that I make the mistake of flipping on CNN. Blue Sabbath Black Cheer have turned into one of the most popular bands in the black/drone/noise/sludge pit, with each new slab of wax going out of print almost immediately, and this latest untitled LP is no different; serving up two sidelong jams of terrifying blackened aural goo, this crusher is already out of print from the label, and we won't be getting any more of this once we sell out.

Each side is a single massive track, originally released as super-limited cassettes and remastered for this LP, with new material contributed to the mix from Matt Waldron of Irr.App.(Ext.) and Chris Dodge from Spazz/East West Blast Test/Ancient Chinese Secret. The A-side is from the split cassette with Hymns Of Despondent Solitude that came out on Gnarled Forest, and it opens with slurred beast growls that sound like a monstrous being growling out of a tape player on dying batteries, oozing through a dank pit of malevolent sound filled with deep subterranean rumblings, high end squeal and metallic scraping, machine pulses and throbbing low-end tones . A constant churning mass of monstrous sound infested with all kinds of abstract noise, and it slowly builds into a delirium of roaring industrial noise, avalanches of distortion and junk metal, and swirling syrupy tarpit miasma. Corrosive and crushing, a blackened roiling sea of suffocating industrial dread made up of layers upon layers of demonic filth and crushing abstract drone.

Taken from the split tape with Vestigial Limb, the other side starts off with a thunderous crash that fades away into distant, low rumblings, like deafening, earth-shaking thunderclaps spread out every minute or so and heard from the bottom of a deep chasm, gradually joined by other sounds like the leaden scrape of chains being dragged, looping whirrs of electronic pulse, and distant low-end thrum. The atmosphere is heavier, murkier, a black ocean of broken earth crust and magma rising up in smoking chunks and waves, with a looping almost-rhythmic throb churning underneath the suffocating layers of distortion, grinding un-riffage and horrific vocals. Then suddenly it's all consumed in a blasting hellstorm of churning rhythmic white noise and metallic creaking, a massive throbbing wall of distortion and sampled noises which begins to sound like the marching of a million boots, rhythmic and pounding and roaring, becoming more and more distorted and blown out, a Merzbowian furnace of low-end noise destruction that obscures a world of inhuman howling and fragments of melody that turns into a kind of super-heavy powerdrone.

Utterly terrifying and hellish, BSBC's doomy ambient noise is a blackened, abstract industrial sludge that sits between the crushing noise of bands like The Rita and Sewer Election and the filthiest, most diseased end of blackened plague-doom like Alkerdeel, T.O.M.B., Gnaw Their Tongues, and Wilt. The record is packaged in a white jacket with a black and white image by Dominick Black affixed to the front, with black and white inserts and pressed on white vinyl with plain white labels, limited edition of 300 copies.