Technical death metal is one of those genres I was really into in my early teens, when I had first gotten into metal and was looking for ever more brutal, heavy, and extreme bands. It didn’t help that I was in a band at the time, and the guitarist was just an uber snob (and, as far as I’m aware, still is). I listened to a lot of Gorguts, Origin, Fallujah, Behold… The Arctopus, The Faceless, Cynic; and I do still like some of those bands, but the longer I spent chasing the extremities of what is humanly possible in metal, the less I found I enjoyed actually listening to it. I started craving more emotion, more coherent songwriting, and, quite honestly, simplicity. Just heavy fuckin’ riffs. And so, gradually, I weaned myself off the blast-beat filled teat of tech-death, and turned to calmer musical waters.
That all changed in 2023, with the release of Cattle Decapitation’s incredible Terrasite. I had been slowly coming back to more extreme forms of metal, but my preference was still for music with emotion over technicality, and a huge part of that was – surprisingly – drums. Having been with a drummer for the better part of the past decade has made me more aware of the magic and mystery of the kit, but, more than anything, it has made me so sensitive to how drums sound. I also did an audio course, and during this time developed the opinion that sample layering and (God forbid) sample replacing drums was not at all my cup of tea and should only be done in extreme circumstances. For the most part, I still hold that opinion, but I’ve certainly chilled out. Especially when it comes to the turbo-charged double kicks of death metal, sometimes sample replacing is just the best course of action. Anyway, my point is: I heard Terrasite for the first time, and I fell totally in love. I was once again interested in tech-death and its adjacent subgenres.
I’m in this odd spot right now – part of me craves the rawest, most depraved, most underproduced and unpolished shit imaginable, and the other part wants clarity, precision, and prowess. What can I say, we’re 2 months into 2025 and I’m already fuming. I just need that brutal smack in the face, musically speaking, and I don’t care if it’s grindcore or black metal or tech-death. So imagine my delight when I found all three things in the very first album I’m reviewing this year.
I don’t know anything about Fleshbore. They’re from the States, they’re a four-piece, they have two members called Cole and two called Michael, they’re with Transcending Obscurity (who are currently one of my favourite labels), and Painted Paradise is their second full-length album. That’s it. I never read reviews before I write my own, so I didn’t know what to expect or what I was getting myself into.
From my first listen of album opener “Setting Sun”, I knew I was in for a treat. I wanted aggression, and I got it, but I also got sick riffs, tremolo-picked melodies, harmonies, and unexpectedly guttural vocals. This is definitely tech-death, but it’s more than just that – it’s tech-death infused with the machine-gun franticism of grindcore, the bleak melodic sensitivities of black metal, and all crammed into what are essentially standard rock song structures. To me, the fact that the songs do feature quite a bit of repetition and somewhat more traditional structures is actually a massive selling point. I often find very extreme genres can be pretty overwhelming due to the bands’ refusal to repeat any given riff more than twice, let alone include something as basic as a recognisable chorus. Fleshbore have struck the perfect balance between interest and variation and familiarity through repetition, and I really love that.
The whole album is a ripper; I was going to talk about my favourite tracks, but then realised half the songs on the album are my favourites (“The World”, “Wandering Twilight”, “The Ancient Knowledge”, and “Laplace’s Game”, in case you were wondering). It’s kind of funny, there are multiple moments on Painted Paradise that give me sense of déjà vu, like the opening riff of “Inadequate”, which reminds me somehow of a video game I’ve never played; the chorus melody from “The Ancient Knowledge”, which feels like something I might’ve dreamed at some point; and the intro of the title track, a reminder of some long-forgotten holiday. It doesn’t really make any sense, but in some abstract way I feel like I’ve known this album before (but maybe that’s just me trying to project some sense and meaning into this crazy world we live in).
Each track on this album is just the right amount of musically intricate, fresh, catchy, and seethingly aggressive; and oh my, the playing on this thing. Ri-diculous. We don’t just get the total organised chaos of the drums, two incredible guitarists, and a vocalist whose range of harsh vocals could rival some of the best; for once, we have bass that isn’t just audible, but insanely impressive. Think Sean Malone of Cynic, or Death’s Steve Di Giorgio, or Frank Chin from that band we don’t talk about. That’s the level, and that’s the style. Lead bass. And there’s not just one bass solo on the album, but multiple – even back-to-back bass and guitar solos. Plus, the bass solos rule. There’s no shortage of jokes about bassists and bass solos; like the classic ‘everyone starts talking during a bass solo’ – but ain’t no one gonna talk over these ones. You’re going to want to hear this (can you tell I’m a bass player?).
Painted Paradise is so meticulous. It’s so clever, so clear and concise and devilishly intoxicating. The songs are almost all under five minutes, basically radio-friendly. What I love the most about this album is that it is so carefully crafted and undeniably technical, but Fleshbore never sacrifice musicality or expression for a flex. The precision of the drums is offset beautifully by the vicious vocals, violently expressive riffs, and tastefully phrased guitar melodies. At first listen, Painted Paradise seems like just a really good death metal album, and the aforementioned elements stand out as brilliant, but on each subsequent listen, you can expect to notice many more subtle background layers. I’ve been listening to it somewhat obsessively over the past week, and I keep hearing new things – it’s almost like the album changes slightly every time. I’m certainly not going to grow (Flesh)bored with it any time soon.
Honestly, it’s not even March, and I already considered 2025 to be more or less a write-off for me, but if we’re going to keep getting new releases of this sort of calibre, maybe there’s a reason to stay hopeful after all. This is some of the finest tech-death I’ve heard in a long time, and maybe ever. Hats off to you, Fleshbore – this one’s a ripper.
