Mad Trapper is from Toronto,Ontario and they play a punishing brand of grind/hardcore. The whole Canadians are super nice thing does not translate over into their music. Dead Living is a loaded gun pointed at your head, ready to spill your noggin all over the floor. Dead Living is their second album that was just released at the end of June.
The twelve songs you end up being subjected to are punishing. After the slower moving Claws, Dead Living gets on a roll and never stops until it steamrolls you. The lyrics are of course pissed off and at times somewhat depressing, and the songs tell stories. The stories are sick and twisted, but stories none the less.
Mad Trapper stick to the grind/hardcore formula of ground and pound until your flesh is that of pulp, only to grind you down some more making you completely unidentifiable. After you are done taking a baseball bat to the face after the first couple of onslaughts, you begin to get use to the bludgeoning and instead of shying away from the beating you begin to take it head on.
The music is entirely frantic, dizzying and vertigo inducing making your head spin for the entirety of the album. When Dead Living stops and your head is back on your shoulders in the proper position, you feel inclined to press play again. The album is short in typical grind fashion, yet the amount of content shoveled down your throat on this album makes you not mind the shorter run time.
The content that I am writing about is everything I just mentioned above. The music isn’t just being abrasive just for the sake of it, or being loud just for the sake of being loud. The songs tell beautifully dark stories that are fueled by the anger and hate that Mad Trapper exude.
With all of the anger and contempt that the lyrics portray, the music needs to sound the same, and guess what, it does. The riffs are sharp and assault you in a murderous rage. The drums cave your head in with relentless pounding, and the bass is heavy enough to crack your legs making sure you can’t escape the barrage. The vocals fluctuate between barks and screams really driving the point home that the music is pure visceral hate.
With this cacophony of searing red madness, you get twelve songs that are brutal, in your face, and unforgettable mainly because the songs get seared into your brain with a hot branding iron.