Cannabis Corpse Beneath Grow Lights Thou Shalt Rise

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Reviewed by: Joshua   //   Published: 9/3/2011

Side projects are a mixed bag in both quality and consistency. And those are SERIOUS bands, much unlike Phillip "Landphil" Hall's Municipal Waste offshoot Cannabis Corpse. The obvious death metal parody was presumably destined for the scrap heap among other joke bands. But every now and then there's a parody so well-executed that it ceases to be a joke. Cannabis Corpse has reached that high on their new full-length and fourth release overall, Beneath Grow Lights Thou Shalt Rise.

Andrei Bouzikov's artwork depicting 6-foot Cali kush clones dismembering a hapless hesher is worth the price of admission alone. Trying to figure out what song title they are poking fun at is a game in itself (most of which are Deicide and Morbid Angel knockoffs). What's surprising is that this half-baked batch of death metal is really fucking good. Tempo changes, punishing double kicks, and tons of tremolo picked harmonies resonate through a haunting atmosphere thick with skunk smoke.

If the stomping riff at the end of "Lunatic of Pot's Creation" doesn't get you headbanging, then just stop there. "Immortal Pipes" is the embodiment of early 90's Floridian sweat, including an epic guitar solo complete with absurd dive bombs. Airtight rhythms roll through "Blaze of Torment." On "Slave to the Chron" where other bands might throw in a predictable breakdown, they speed up. It makes for a fun, unpredictable listen. The lyrics are equally as entertaining featuring such gems as the pro-legalization manta "Blame it on Bud." "Drop guillotines in crimson spurts / Stoners emerge on red alert / Dragged through the streets by toking bangers / Swing from the gallows by hemp-made hangers." While some of the serious longsleevers may find the tongue in cheek offensive, backpatchers will latch on like lips to a sweet six-footer.

Cannabis Corpse may just be inverting aspects of tried and true song structures, instrumentation, and dynamics, but they do so with professional restraint and just enough flash to not be flashy. Consider it a greatest "hits" of all the death metal songs you've already heard. A dry mix from DM extraordinaire Erik Rutan keeps things brutally old school. The pot schtick is built-in for fans of Phil's more high-profile outfit, a bong to the beer funnel fueled partycore of The Waste. But where as MW haven't put out a great front-to-back full length in a while, this side project could be poised to claim Landphil's full attention.

Bottom Line: It sounds even better...on weed.

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