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Album Review: Thy Art Is Murder - Dear Desolation

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"Their collective bellies are so full of fire they could spit lava."

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Already among modern extreme metal's more self-assured outfits, Thy Art Is Murder's confidence has seemingly been further bolstered by revitalised growler CJ McMahon's return.

Album number four features a somewhat streamlined attack, simplifying structures slightly. The touchstones remain similar, however; Decapitated-infused riffage of chugging Slaves Beyond Death, The Son Of Misery's Behemoth-channelling death metal fury or Puppet Master's seismic-shifting, pit carnage-inducing beatdown. Perhaps Dear Desolation never quite consistently reaches the considerable heights of that unholy opening trinity (The Skin Of The Serpent's an ambient standout, though). However, moments of overt familiarity aside their collective bellies are so full of fire they could spit lava. Welcome back, lads.