By Lord Randall

Admittedly, I’ve never been into Berlin’s WAR FROM A HARLOTS MOUTH. Chalk it up to them being the typical brand of Lifeforce-core that was all the rage in the late 00’s, if you will, but more damning to my ears was that they never grew out of it, ‘10’s MMX being every bit as interesting as In Shoals wasn’t. And thus, I entered Voyeur with less-than-stellar expectations. WFAHM is as pedestrian as expected, ‘Origin’ fumbling through the introduction with all the grace of a palsied sloth tuning a cello.

‘Vertigo’ zigs when it should zag (as does most of the album), and the abbreviated numbers seem less atmospheric interludes, more haphazard, craphazard ideas thrown together in a hodgepodge of sound that annoys far more than it entertains. ‘Terrifier’ is so, only because to the baby djenters it’ll seem jazz-influenced and “tech” – two terms by and large anathema to me, because they’re so rarely done right. Occasionally a tolerable fragment will sneak into the mix (the brief solo in ‘The Black Lodge’, the BORN FROM PAIN-isms in the rumbling ‘Krycek), but it’s too little too late. So much so that even a WILL HAVEN cover – a band whose boots WFAHM are unworthy to lick in shame for even trying – can’t save this album. And that’s what it comes down to, folks. In the world of extreme music, BORE FROM A HARLOTS MOUTH aren’t participants. They’re Voyeurs.