One of the best selling death metal albums we've stocked here at C-Blast, Megalith quickly whipped death metallers into a frenzy when it first came out in 2011, and ended up going out of print not too much later. It's finally back in stock though, reissued with some additional bonus tracks that originally appeared on the 7" that came with the vinyl release of Towards The Megalith on Doomentia.

One of the main hooks for these New Jersey death metallers is the presence of frontman Craig Pillard, best known for his ghastly vocals that helped make the miasmal heaviness of iconic Incantation albums Onward to Golgotha and Mortal Throne of Nazarene so unforgettable. That pedigree alone had fans of monstrous, old-school death metal scrambling to pick up Towards The Megalith when it first came out, but Disma was rounded out with other heavyweights from the NYC-area extreme music scene, including current and former members of Citizens Arrest, Funebrarum, Taste Of Fear, Born Against, and Pillard's experimental drone-metal outfit Methadrone. With that lineup, we got exactly what one would hope for, a punishing death metal assault forged from sludgy, ultra-heavy riffage and evil chromatic melodies that wind around the barbaric doom-laden tempos and blasts of frenzied speed.

The eight songs that make up Megalith are cut from an older form of rotted matter, definitely reminiscent of that classic Incantation sound, but there's some additional wrinkles that gives Disma their own putrid flavor: passages of bone-dissolving slow-motion heaviness that rival Disembowelment, elaborately laid out labyrinths of primitive twisted riff-sludge, the blasts of suffocating drone-fog and bizarre backwards melodies writhing in the muck of the title track, bursts of stench-ridden, crusty thrash, and a bass sound so fuzz-encrusted and massive it feels like a the rumble of worms oozing from your speakers. And Pillard? Man, the guy's got some lungs. He still sounds as bestial as ever, emitting gusts of putrescent death-belch across these withering blasts of bilious heaviosity. Aside from the obvious Incantation-esque elements, you can also make out the influence of classic Finnish death metal on Disma's art, in everything from the band's name to the putrid Demilich-esque sludge-encrusted heaviness that wafts throughout the album, which teems with visions of mausoleum-cities and vast, cyclopean temples, Lovecraftian funerary rites and lightless voids, all hung heavy with the stench of rot and corruption, and further brought to life via Ola Larsson's fantastic album art.