Useless And Worthless by Force Fed Life Withering Night: A Blackened Roar of Despair
Alright, let’s get this straight—Useless And Worthless isn’t your feel-good Sunday morning record. Released back in 2012 under Razed Soul Productions, this US-born black metal beast from Force Fed Life Withering Night hits like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t hold your hand or apologize for anything; it just drags you into its dark, suffocating world and spits you out when it feels like it. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The album kicks off with “Soon I’ll Be A Ghost,” and damn if that track doesn’t stick with you. The guitars sound like they’re being ripped apart while the vocals claw at your soul. It’s raw, unfiltered pain turned into music. There’s something about the way the song builds—it starts slow, almost hesitant, but then explodes into this chaotic wall of noise that makes you wanna scream along even though you don’t know what the hell you’re screaming about. By the end, you’re left gasping, like you just survived some kind of emotional car crash. That one hit me hard. Like… really hard.
Then there’s “Drug Mask.” This track is pure filth—a crawling, sludgy nightmare that feels like drowning in tar. Every note oozes desperation, and the drums are so relentless they make your chest hurt. I kept coming back to this one because it’s not just angry—it’s sad. You can hear it in the way the riffs twist and turn, like they’re trying to escape their own misery but can’t. It’s haunting as hell, man. When it ended, I had to sit there for a minute, staring at my wall, wondering why I felt so empty inside.
Other tracks like “Into The Void” and “Wandering” keep the momentum going, but those first couple songs set the tone so brutally well that everything else feels like echoes of that initial impact. Tracks like “Let’s Bury Each Other” round things out on a grim note, leaving you with no real sense of closure—just more questions and unease. Which, honestly, feels intentional. This isn’t an album that wants to comfort you. It wants to break you down.
Here’s the thing: listening to Useless And Worthless isn’t fun. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. But it’s real. Like, painfully real. It’s the kind of album that reminds you how ugly life can be, but instead of shying away from that ugliness, it embraces it fully. And weirdly enough, that makes it kinda beautiful? Like watching a storm tear through the sky—it’s terrifying, but you can’t look away.
Anyway, here’s the kicker: after all these years, I still can’t decide if this album hates me or gets me. Maybe both. Either way, it’s stuck in my head, and I think it’s gonna stay there for a long time. Now excuse me while I go lie down in a dark room and question all my life choices.
