Jul 312011

Raw In Sect is a Greek band formed in 2005 and now consisting of Kostas Diamandis (vocals, guitars), Jim Alexiou (drums), Bill Kranos (guitars) and George Vasilopoulos (bass, backing vocals). The more I think about the band’s name, the more I like it. It uses the word “raw”, which is a good sign if you have my kind of taste in metal, and then it has that play on words, “in sect”, which makes me think of both hooded, human-sacrificing, blood-worshippers and creeping, crawling, cannibalistic things with feelers and pincers and multi-faceted eyes. I suppose it’s possible that I have an over-active imagination.

Anyway, Raw In Sect produced a three-song demo in 2007 and have now signed to a label called Aural Music, Wormholedeath for the release of their debut album, Red Flows. More good names: Wormholedeath and Red Flows. Plus, the band is scheduled to play three shows in Ireland with Suidakra in September. That’s keeping some good company.

But a good band name and a flowing (red) album name will only carry you so far, i.e., right up to the brink of the music itself, and then you either fall off a cliff, crashing and burning, or you get into a good . . . flow . . . with something red and raw (and insectile) along for the ride. Which is it for this band? (more after the jump . . .)

I think there’s more to like here than just the cool names. I’ve heard three songs from the Red Flows album. They pulse and strobe in a high-energy fusion of thrash, tech-death, and prog metal. Punishing staccato rhythms will have your head beating in a spastic seizure, whirlwind guitar leads will then give you the adult version of shaken-baby syndrome, and the crazy, roaring vocals will have the dogs in your neighborhood barking along with enthusiasm.

All three songs are expertly executed and have interesting nuances that separate them from run-of-the-mill death-thrash — this is very promising music. I especially liked “Protect”, with its seductive (and misleading) intro and the pealing guitar chords that usher the song to its conclusion over a barrage of jabbing percussion. Check it out and let me know what you think:

“Wall of Greed”

[audio:https://www.nocleansinging.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/01-Raw-In-Sect_wall-of-greed.mp3|titles=Raw In Sect – Wall of Greed]

“Man Less”

[audio:https://www.nocleansinging.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/02-Raw-In-Sect_man-less.mp3|titles=Raw In Sect – Man Less]


[audio:https://www.nocleansinging.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/03-Raw-In-Sect_protect.mp3|titles=Raw In Sect – Protect]

If you’d like to learn more, go here to find Raw In Sect’s Facebook page or here to connect with their MySpace. I’m not yet sure about how to get the album, but when I find out I’ll update this post.

  46 Responses to “IN SECT INFESTATION”

  1. Red…flow…???

    Menstruation is the only thing I can think about now….

    And desperate vampires.

    Why not just call “a woman on her period sat on my face and I liked it”?
    Not that there’s anything wrong taking the ol’ mustache raft down the tomato juice river of pleasure.

    The music is pretty good…I think I can even hear the bassist!

    • Oh shit! I think we now have another bit of awfulness to add to the banner sub-heading queue . . .

    • Oh, fuck the queue. This baby just moved to the head of the line.

      • Fuck you comment system. It won’t let me post as myself!

        I’m probably more proud of this than my bachelors diploma. But not the masters. Haven’t topped that yet.

        Maybe if it were something like:
        Taking the ol’ moustache raft with the outboard brown-eye stinkerator down the tomato juice and tacoyaki river of pleasure and necrobeastiality.

        Alas…maybe next week.

  2. I was going to comment on the music but I got somewhat distracted by the turn this conversation took. So I’ll just say that I thought it was good, but a little too technical for my tastes. Period.

    • I didn’t really find it that technical…but then I probably wouldn’t know technical from wankery from my dick.

      And yet I’ve always assumed I knew my dick pretty well…clearly I was mistaken.

      • I might not be using the term correctly… I just found them a little too “clean”. I don’t know if that’s really the right word either. This must be why so many people default to dick and balls references.

        Incidentally, I don’t think anyone can truly KNOW their dick, but the journey of discovery makes up for the not knowing.

        • HAH!!! You made me lol. And then I tinkled a little in my panties. But only a reasonable amount.

          I think clean might be a better word here. They’re not nearly as distorted as one might expect a troll (especially a fiendish one with a cock fetish) to like and they don’t seem to be using all THAT much downtuning. They do sound kinda…tinny though? Maybe even djenty? Certainly not slimy…

          “The journey of a thousand cums starts with a single stroke.”
          “KNOW thyself. *Wink*”
          “Confucius says, ‘Man who don’t know his own dick probably knows donkey’s dick too well.'”

        • Shit, I LOLed too. And then again when I read the tinkled in my panties line. And then again with the thing about the journey. But what will people think who drifted over to this site today for the first time? This is like a filter that allows certain sensibilities through and sends the others off to . . . something else.

          • Yah…about that…

            Maybe you wants that I stop derailing all the comments with my peepee and poopoo and wiggleewigglee shit?

            I could accept certain restrictions…like no “vagoo” or “saw blade enabled tentacle rape” on Tuesdays or Thursdays…

            • Yeah, see, now everyone is going to think I have a cock fetish. And while I certainly spend a lot of time with mine, talk to it, kiss it, cuddle it, dress it up in little sailor outfits and occasionally enter it in pageants, I wouldn’t say I have a *fetish*.

              Also “no saw blade enable tentacle rape on Tuesdays or Thursdays” doesn’t work for me. How about Wednesday/Saturday?

              • I refuse to acknowledge that I may have made a mistake or lied until you prove that cock fetish doesn’t equal the sum of 69 and cougars mounting 21 year olds.

                Ohhhhh…Wednesday and Saturdays are prime days for saw blade enabled tentacle rape…how about Monday and every other Sunday. Then we can also alternate holidays and summer vacation. But I definitely want to keep it around for Christmas. Nothing brings cheer to a dreary Christmas morning like Santa with a saw blade sticking out his mouth and a tentacle wriggling in his now-slightly-bigger anus hole.

            • WTF happened to your NCS identity? Granted, the new one is much more descriptive, but it made my eyes cross trying to read it.

              • I was posting from my cell phone…apparently it saved the last identity thing I used when I got pissed at it yesterday and had to sacrifice a small child to get it to work.

    • Ha! Period…well played.

      • Thanks, I was patting myself on the back for that one.

        “Confucius say, man with hole in pocket feel a little cocky all day long.”

        • “Confucius say, ‘Baseball all wrong, man with four balls and wood cannot walk.'”

          ….but, you know, I bet he could get a part in a movie….

          • A recent Scottish immigrant to the U.S. attended his first baseball
            game. After a base hit, he heard the fans roaring, “Run…run!”

            The next batter connected heavily with the ball and the Scotsman
            stood up and roared with the crowd in his thick accent, “R-r-r-un yah
            bahstard. R-r-run!”

            A third batter slammed a hit and again the Scotsman, obviously
            pleased with his knowledge of the game, screamed, “R-r-r-un ya
            bahstard, r-r-run will ya.”

            The next batter’s count went to three and two. As the next pitch went
            outside the plate, he held his swing. The umpire called a walk and the
            Scotsman stood up yelling, “R-r-r-un ya bahstard, r-r-run!”

            All the surrounding fans giggled quietly and he sat down, confused. A
            friendly fan, sensing his embarrassment, whispered, “He didn’t have to
            run, he’s got four balls.”

            After this explanation the Scotsman stood up in disbelief and
            screamed, “Walk PR-R-ROUD, man! Walk Proud!”

  3. I wish to offer my sincere and abject apologies to Raw In Sect and their fans who may visit this site with the expectation of reading insightful commentary about the band’s new album and finding instead that my heartfelt attempt to help spread the word about “Red Flows” has become fodder for a putrid fugue of saw-blade enabled tentacle rape, dicks in sailor costumes, baseball jokes with Scotsmen, and . . . uh . . . goova. These things seem to happen regularly at NCS, for inexplicable reasons beyond my control. Please don’t take it personally.

  4. Actually, for what it’s worth (though it may be too little too late at this point) I think the album cover is pretty fuckin’ sweet.

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