The fundamental suckiness of disco-metal bands such as White Zombie and Rammstein proves one unquestionable fact: metal-heads can't dance. Head-banging is a vertical motion, and ass-shaking goes side to side. You just can't do them at the same time. So it's a pleasant surprise that Genghis Tron's debut full-length, Dead Mountain Mouth, which integrates poppy electro-beats and monstrously assaultive digital grind-core, is so damn successful.
Granted, the Depeche Mode asides sometimes seem like blessed reprieves from the punishing Locust-style passages, rather than essential parts of the songs. But there's such careful attention paid to the cohesiveness of the mood, so many fantastically orchestrated slower riffs to bridge the two extremes, that the album's novelty factor is immediately ground up in the gears of Genghis Tron's mechanized onslaught.
Dead Mountain Mouth is so inhumanly powerful that it's easy to forget it was made by three dorky-looking white guys from Poughkeepsie. It sounds like the machines are taking over. And the machines can dance.
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