If you have been following the hearse since its inception then perhaps you have come to expect a certain criteria for what gets posted. Well, fuck that. Sometimes you don't want to overanalyze, sometimes you just don't have it in you to wax philosophic about this album or that artist, sometimes a record or a band just doesn't merit such pontification, and sometimes, fuck, you just want something as comforting and as familiar as a hamburger. Deicide's first album is that hamburger. It's not mind-blowing, or particularly rare or obscure, it's not a timeless classic or a deeply profound work of staggering genius, it's just what it is. Sure, maybe way back in 1990, when this abomination was unleashed, it may have freaked out a few parents, scared a few televangelists, and maybe even urged a few ugly fucked-up teenagers towards violence, but today it's just a hamburger. Not a bacon double cheeseburger, not a western burger and definitely not some pussified garden burger, just a burger, plain and simple. Deicide requires nothing from you but your ears and a willingness to suspend some of your urbanities in favor of an unadorned trip through bonehead hell. If your tastes are too sophisticated to enjoy anything so common and lowbrow, you'd be better off over at Pitchfork Media, gushing over whatever freak-folk psych retro bullshit they're pimping this week.