Album Review: Lipoma – “No Cure for the Sick” (Goregrind/Melodic Death)

Written by Kep

Look, I wasn’t born yesterday. If I see a release from the filthmongers at Gurgling Gore, and the band is named after some sort of gross medical condition, and the logo looks like *that*, I know what I’m in for. It’s goregrind time, baby. 

Or maybe it isn’t? Lipoma was new to me when the promo for No Cure for the Sick arrived in my inbox, so after a cursory glance at the cover art and logo situation I was pretty sure some nasty goregrind coming my way. Imagine my surprise, then, when “The Sea Surgeon” began and something akin to neo-classical melodic death burst from my speakers, and then my even greater surprise when the vocals hit in full goregrind glory. The track is nothing short of wild: a main theme built on one of Bach’s keyboard preludes, played on synthesized organ with the guitar playing chords in support, a drop into sewage-gargling vocal hell, and a overflowing helping of melodeath riffs. It was a done deal; Lipoma had me hooked. 

As it turns out, this sort of genre-blending madness is pretty much par for the course for the outfit. Masterminded by a gentleman who goes by Dr. Lipoma, the project has busily released four EPs, two LPs, and 10 splits in its four years of existence, their consistent calling card an unhealthy stew of goregrind and melodic death. Here on the new record, they’re pushing that even further, tossing in more -core and even more melody, at times getting downright cheerful to a sardonic degree—certainly an intentional choice, juxtaposing the cheery with the disgusting. It’s a grotesque but remarkably addicting cocktail; I didn’t know just how badly I wanted to hear garbage disposal vox with At the Gates guitars until the combo hit my ears, and now I can’t get enough. 

No Cure for the Sick’s bread and butter is bright, energetic melodic work in the guitars juxtaposed against pure filth in the vocals and drums. It’s essentially a single trick, but it’s a good one, and those guitars do a frankly ridiculous amount of extraordinarily catchy shit. The jaunty, punky opening of “Psalms of Psoriasis” and its subsequent fast Volbeat verse chugs are a slice of metal happiness, while its back half would almost be beautiful if it weren’t for the ironic absurdity of Dr. Lipoma’s gurgles. Single “Glory to the Blade” opens in epic heavy metal fashion with burning solo guitar before sliding into a groovy riff with southern flair. The axe work on “Cult of the Firehealers” would fit right in with any number of melodic European death metal bands, all crunchy tone and rolling arpeggios and a calm bit of interlude that leads to a soaring solo with lots of tremolo picking. “Incurable Wounds” is 100% driving melodeath right up until it’s metalcore all of a sudden. The title track’s mid-tempo synth melody feels like it might be at home in something made by Abysmal Specter, until harmonized guitar pulls it back to Gothenburg. 

And Dr. Lipoma’s talent shines across the breadth of the album, not just in the guitars. The vocals, as I’ve mentioned, are downright repulsive, and they’re more distinct and rhythmic than goregrind vocals often are. The bass is a deformed chameleon, shifting its colors and sounds from track to track and moment to moment, and Dr. Lipoma uses that tone masterfully. When it’s in support mode, it’s never boring—for example, beneath the majestic melancholy of the back half of “Cardiac Scars Forever” (which, if I’m not mistaken, opens with a oddly profound sample from The Walking Dead) it’s a thick, grounding presence that never rests but never steals the spotlight—while in other places it heaves and belches obscenely, doing unspeakable things down there in the muck. The synth work is fun when it’s present, although it doesn’t make as many appearances as I wish it did. The drums are programmed well and rarely bring attention to their digital nature, which is good. 

The charm of the record is really in its almost exuberant guitar work, so it’s a damn good thing. that the production is so clean and lively. Remember, despite the vocals and plenty of grind influence, this isn’t actually goregrind, sonically speaking—and Dr. Lipoma makes sure that, accordingly, you can actually hear all the cool shit he’s doing. The mix isn’t overly dense, there’s abundant clarity, and the range of tones and textures is surprisingly  wide. There are moments on this album that are so damn moving—I’m thinking things like the solo in “Remedies of Pagan Medicine”—that you can almost forget how filthy the surroundings are, and that’s a testament to both the songwriting and the production.

THE BOTTOM LINE

While it certainly won’t be for everyone, No Cure for the Sick is pretty darn brilliant, not just juxtaposing infectious melody and jaunty upbeat songwriting with bile-spewing gore and filth, but blending them into one unbelievably addicting whole. Your mileage may vary based on how much you enjoy the various bits and pieces that go into Lipoma’s music, but I know for certain I’ll be spinning this one many more times.