Fleischfressende Pflanze by Verfault: A Sonic Assault You Won’t Forget
Alright, let’s get straight to the point—Fleischfressende Pflanze is not for the faint of heart. This 2018 release from Italy’s Verfault hits like a sledgehammer wrapped in barbed wire, delivering exactly what you’d expect from Harsh Noise Wall (HNW) but with an extra layer of filth that makes it unforgettable. Released under Nature Noise Wall, this album doesn’t just push boundaries—it obliterates them.
The opening track, “Menschlicher Esser,” slams into your eardrums like a freight train derailing at full speed. It’s relentless, abrasive, and downright suffocating. The wall of sound here feels alive, almost predatory, as if it’s devouring you piece by piece. What sticks out isn’t some fancy melody or polished production—it’s the raw, unfiltered chaos. Every second feels like being buried under layers of industrial waste while someone screams through static. And yet, there’s something hypnotic about it. Maybe it’s how the noise swells and contracts, keeping you on edge, never letting you settle. By the time it ends, you’re either gasping for air or reaching for the replay button.
Then there’s “Verzweiflung.” If “Menschlicher Esser” was the attack, this one’s the aftermath—a bleak, crushing void where hope goes to die. The track drags you into a pit of despair so deep you might question why you even started listening in the first place. But that’s the genius of it. Verfault doesn’t care about making you comfortable; they want to break you down and leave you staring into the abyss. There are moments when the distortion seems to warp and twist, creating these weird pockets of clarity amidst the storm. It’s disorienting, sure, but also oddly satisfying, like finding beauty in destruction.
What makes Fleischfressende Pflanze stand out is its refusal to compromise. No hooks, no catchy beats—just pure, unadulterated aggression. Listening to this album feels less like entertainment and more like surviving a natural disaster. You come out the other side shaken, maybe even pissed off, but undeniably changed.
And honestly? That’s kinda beautiful. In a world full of safe, predictable music, Verfault reminds us that art can still be dangerous. So crank up the volume, lock yourself in a dark room, and let this sonic monster tear you apart. Just don’t say we didn’t warn ya.
P.S. Fun fact: harsh noise wall fans probably have the strongest ear drums—or none at all. Who knows?
