Written by Kep
Molder – Catastrophic Reconfiguration
> Death metal
> Illinois, US
> Releasing November 8
> Prosthetic Records
A little over two years ago I wrote the following about Molder’s sophomore LP Engrossed in Decay
“You know how sometimes you see an album cover and you just *know* that you’re gonna love it? That was me with Engrossed in Decay. Disgusting old school death metal with art featuring a half-dead dude whose skin is clearly dissolving and sloughing off in slimy green layers? Shut up and take my money. The only thing to wonder about was precisely how good it was going to be. The answer: extremely goddamn good.”
That was but the intro in a review that had essentially nothing but praise for the Illinois quartet, and I stand by every adoring word. So please keep that context in mind when I tell you this about Molder’s new album Catastrophic Reconfiguration (which also sports killer artwork, courtesy of Julian Felipe Mora Ibañez): it’s their best outing yet.
Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I fucking love riffs. Pack an album full of good riffs and I’ll put that shit on repeat, and Molder has done exactly that several times over here. It’s every song, top to bottom, filled to the brim and spilling over with the grooviest, nastiest riffage like some kind of death metal chum bucket. The Obituary vibes are undeniable, and not just because Aaren Pantke has a healthy hunk of John Tardy in his viscous howls; Pantke and fellow guitarist Carlos Santini clearly continue to draw inspiration from the Florida OGs and their knack for ultra-memorable, immediate riffs that compel you wreck your neck. They’re not a clone by any means, though, because their work is far more complex, with a good deal more thrash in their core sound and a greater willingness to get wild with tempo/meter changes and ultra-active fretwork.
Pick a track, any track, and you’re gonna be neck deep in that infectious sense of riff- and song-writing with more hooks than a fisherman’s tackle box. “Frothing”, for example, bursts out of the gates with four pops of the snare and ripping downward motions that end in chunky chords, then grind the same riff to a more deliberate tempo and replaces its blasts with running double bass and cymbal taps for the verse. Miniature powerhouse “Overdue Burial” is in the running for most memorable riff of the year with its thick morass of chuggy chord action that seems to push upward and diagonally in aberrant fashion. If you’re into those slow Autopsy-core eldritch trudges, then check out “Bursted Innards”, its lugubrious march built on misshapen stacked tritones. Nothing gets stale, and no song or even riff outstays its welcome; Molder stitches their morbid patchwork of disease and decay together brilliantly.
Down below, bassist Dominic Vaia’s playing is the unsung hero of the album. Tracks like “Pulped” and “Nothing Left to Ooze” showcase the swelling presence of the low end, the former opening with a solo and both featuring swooping scoops and ropes of fat licks all over. It’s a noticeable boost in importance and prominence when compared to Engrossed in Decay, and it’s a plus overall. Kyle Pooley teams with Vaia to complete the rhythm section, delivering a precise and workmanlike performance that kicks ass and doesn’t fuck around. The duo is an incredibly good base for Pantke and Santini to build on, and their numerous chaotic solos, soaked in filthy reverb, work all the better for it.
It helps matters that in addition to all of that, Pantke is truly magnetic (in the most wonderfully disgusting way, of course) as a frontman. His oozing howls are nothing short of nauseating and when he spits out manic bits of rapid-fire lyrics it’s like he’s spraying gouts of bile all over. That “Frothing” chorus is a showpiece: “Foaming and frothing / Bubbling from your face / Foaming and frothing / Exudes from your mouth / Foaming and frothing / Mentally deranged / Foaming and frothing / Infecting you inside out”, delivered with as much spittle and speed as humanly possible. And his lyrics are so much fun, vile through and through, delighting in the disgusting. Take “Corpse Copulation”—a fucking bop and a half, with a spiky rollicking groove riff I’ll be humming for weeks—and its eloquent chorus:
“CORPSE
CORPSE
COOOOOOORPSE
CO-PU-LA-TION”
The band sounds damn near perfect on this record thanks to a no-nonsense old school approach from engineer Matt Aguilar, who gets gnarly tone from the guitars and a big woofy presence from Vaia’s bass. The band recorded at home in their basements, going intentionally DIY, and so there are no tricks and no unnecessary polishing here; it’s just grime and heft all over. Autopsy’s Greg Wilkinson handled the mix and master, and his work balances those guitars against the battering power of the drums and Pantke’s agonized barks to perfection.
The album is endlessly replayable, and much like with its predecessor I’ve already found myself defaulting to putting it on when I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for; it hits every time and there isn’t anything close to a weak track. In fact, Catastrophic Reconfuguration actually manages something I consider extremely rare: it gets even better as it goes. The back half of the record is just tremendous, more fun than a barrel of mutated monkeys. Plus, my two quibbles with Engrossed with Decay—not even quibbles really, just things that made me raise an eyebrow—were related to its near-50-minute length and a few spoken word samples that felt unnecessary, and neither of those things are a problem here. Catastrophic Reconfiguration is an ideal 36 minutes and features nothing but grimy fucking death metal, with naught but a few opening seconds of gross sound effects to keep it from your ears.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Catastrophic Reconfiguration is my favorite death metal album of 2024, full stop. I just can’t stop playing it because it’s too damn fun and the riffs are too damn filthy. This record is SICK with a capital S, I, C, and K, and as far as I’m concerned Molder have achieved must-listen status for fans heavy music.