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Trevor Strnad's Deadspeak: “Every Year You Ruin Christmas With This Shit!” 

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Trevor Strnad's Deadspeak
Trevor Strand of the Black Dahlia Murder is back with a list you probably never would have expected this Christmas. And hey, if you are in Europe, make sure you catch Trevor and BDM on the road with Amon Amarth this May.

Don’t bother secretly slicing your presents open with an exacto knife this year; I’ll just save you all the pesky rewrapping and tell you what they are…it’s those death metal CDs you were asking for, and boy, are your parents mad.

Face it, death metal isn’t for grown ups. They are far too uptight and sensitive to handle this shit. They don’t understand our sense of humor…that the violent imagery and lyrics are all in good, fantastically-fabricated fun. They think that George “Corpsegrinder” Fischer is truly a mincer of his fallen foes, and that Glenn Benton is indeed Satan’s active mouthpiece here on planet Earth. They think that being exposed to music like this is going to result in your conversion into a full-on, street-stalking serial killer. Here is a list of six sickeningly-secular albums that cause quite a stir in the Strnad household on the birthday of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ.

1. Blood Duster, Yeest: Ah…Blood Duster’s Yeest. Great album (or collection, technically).  Didn’t even make it under the Christmas tree. Once my mom got a load of the cover art and track listing in the middle of the mall (she special ordered it from then-popular record store chain Sam Goody), the disc was immediately sent back and it was all over. The blown-up photo of a noseless and rotten-toothed dead face was a little bit too much for old mom…she almost threw up her Orange Julius. Featuring such feel good hits as “Knee Deep in Menstrual Blood” and “Raping the Elderly” didn’t do much for my case either. Consider Christmas foiled. 
 
2. Autopsy, Acts Of The Unspeakable: Woops, left my Autopsy CD on the table in the living room. Woops, dad looked inside and saw the foldout artwork of people murdering/sexually torturing each other. He more than likely also noticed a grisly nailed-open vagina lurking behind the lyric sheet. Woops, dad is doing that angry wrinkle thing with his forehead and giving me a speech about how this is appalling. Pass the egg nog. 

3. Autopsy, Shitfun: That damn Autopsy! “Now I’m all for freedom of speech Trevor, but I didn’t know they were going to be using it for this.” He states sternly while pointing to the artwork featuring a man with an 8-inch long turd hanging out of his teeth. Take that, Santa. 
 
4. The Ravenous, Assembled In Blasphemy: I think Killjoy and Chris Reifert would have probably given each other the knucks if they knew how fucking pissed off my mom was about Assembled In Blasphemy’s content. From the fiend feasting on a little girl’s entrails on the front (still the sickest cover Paul Booth ever did this side of Prowler In The Yard) to song titles like “Dead, Cut Up, and Ready to Fuck” and “Baptized in Dogs Blood,” I may as well have asked for a snuff porn for Christmas. It’s a good thing my mom doesn’t go on Metal Archives, or she could’ve found out that Reifert was, in fact, that two-time offending scumbag from Autopsy and been tripley angry.

5. Nunslaughter, Hell’s Unholy Fire: This was part of the same batch (and same Christmas conflict) as The Ravenous disc. The Satanic ritual image on the back of the CD featuring a girl being fucked in the middle of a pentagram was cause for some concern.
 
6. Cryptopsy, Whisper Supremacy: It took one look at the back of the disc by my mother to have brutish bald-headed then-singer Mike DeSalvo pegged as a skinhead. Couple that with the word “Supremacy” from the title and you have yourself a parent on Defcon 4…no fucking way. A few songs about skeletons and demons is fine but she doesn’t want you turning into a fucking Nazi. Not on Christmas day. Looking back at this band photo now, all I can do is laugh at the poorly computer-generated glowing eyes, and Flo’s Umbro soccer shirt. Nothing is more evil than Umbro, dude. Nothing.
 
Look mom! I’m not a serial murderer! I merely make a living preaching the word of hate that could turn other people’s kid’s into serial murderers! Phew! Now that we’re all well adjusted, Merry Christmas!