(DGR dives over the event horizon of the new album from Spanish cyber-slam destroyers Wormed)
There was a sort of mad cackle that emerged from me after the first few runs of Wormed‘s newest issuance from the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy.
It was maybe after the third spin of Omegon that I couldn’t help but laugh, a semi-rueful one somewhere between Ralph Wiggum’s “I’m in danger!” chuckle and one that was in awe of the band somehow managing to unleash yet another disc of mind bending tempo shifts and instrumental destruction.
Honestly, what it comes down to is the question facing every writer when they’re handed a Wormed released (Omegon being my second) which is… “how in the unholy hell am I even going to describe this thing?“.