Molested Under Anesthesia by Dermatofibrosarcoma: A Noise-Fueled Goregrind Odyssey
Alright, buckle up, because Molested Under Anesthesia by Dermatofibrosarcoma is not your average rock album. Nope. This thing slaps you in the face with 40 tracks of pure noise and goregrind chaos, courtesy of Mental Abuse Records outta the US. If you’re into music that feels like a blender full of broken glass and bad decisions, this one’s for you.
Let me break it down real quick. First off, yeah, 40 tracks. That’s a lot. Some might call it overkill, but honestly? It works here. The sheer volume (pun intended) keeps things fresh even when the sound itself is about as raw as it gets. You’re not just listening to songs—you’re getting punched in the eardrums repeatedly, and weirdly enough, it’s kinda fun.
Now, I gotta shout out two tracks that stuck with me. Track 7, “Surgical Scalpel Samba,” hits hard right from the start. It’s got this grinding guitar riff that sounds like someone took a weed whacker to an amp, and the vocals? Oh man, they’re straight-up vomit-inducing—in the best way possible. It’s messy, gross, and completely unhinged, but there’s something oddly catchy about how relentless it feels. Like, you’ll hate yourself for humming it later, but you will.
Then there’s Track 23, “Dental Drill Despair.” This one slows things down just enough to let the filth sink in. There’s this eerie, almost industrial beat underneath all the screaming, like you’re trapped in some nightmare dentist office where everything goes wrong. By the time the track ends, you’ll either wanna rinse your ears out with bleach or hit repeat. Maybe both.
What makes this album stand out isn’t just the brutality—it’s the absurdity. Listening to Molested Under Anesthesia feels like stepping into a horror movie directed by someone who loves heavy music more than life itself. Sure, it’s chaotic as hell, but there’s a weird charm to how unapologetically nasty it is. Plus, can we talk about the name? Dermatofibrosarcoma? Say that five times fast after a few beers. Bet you can’t.
Here’s the kicker though—this album made me think. Not deep thoughts or anything, but like… why do we enjoy stuff that’s so intentionally abrasive? Is it rebellion? Catharsis? Or are we all just gluttons for punishment? Either way, if you dig noise rock or goregrind, this record’s a wild ride worth taking.
Final note: Don’t play this at your grandma’s birthday party unless you really don’t like her. Trust me on that one.
