If one hasn't heard of Bone Gnawer before and one is not feeble-minded when it comes to death metal, one has probably had a strange reaction in the pants. It is just poop, don't worry. But once one has heard this atrocity, one will be in Eric Cartman's trousers (haha) for once, because this load will fire back up your ass like a gunshot. Feast of Flesh is a joke. On nearly every level of observation, this hunk of sh*t produces nothing worthwhile on any perimeter. Bone Gnawer tries, but plays a card too big to play, even for their dominant contributions over the past few decades.

But you know what really tickles the sh*tter? Musically, it captures an essence and impurity that shrieks of old-school hammering, but done with the trite characteristics that prohibits a comeback of a comeback. Bone Gnawer's members were a part of death metal's golden days, and thus, Feast of Flesh is a throwback into that prototypical style of thrash-influenced rawness much in the vein of Barnes-era Cannibal Corpse or Death, but without the awesomeness. The riffs, percussion, bass lines and soloing are all pathetic misrepresentations of classic death metal, redefined into a tribute band that screams of fourth-rate ideas and uninspiring performances. No change or anything interesting presents itself; just bland music rubbed in unflattering repetition. "Sliced and Diced" brings the most out of the project without question, emphasizing a musical moment that illuminates Tombs of the Mutilated with utter greatness; the riffs are magical, the percussion masterful, and the soloing stellar throughout. Sadly, everything else falls into decay from repetition and downer vibes that fall and never get up.

Severing a man's limbs will keep him alive. He'll want a one-way trip to the afterlife, yet he'll survive. Bone Gnawer's hypothetical cadaver, however, decapitates itself once Kam Lee enters this dying infection already under mass suffering. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but his vocals are horrendous. The harsh, grunting belch that floats above Bone Gnawer's poor musical efforts continues the grave-digging process until there's only rolling eyes and an urge to put on something else. Still, I couldn't swallow the lyrical stupidity if I was drunk and received a check to pay my bills. Yes "From Beyond" had its payday years ago, so maybe yelling the title of "Cannibal Cookout" twenty-odd times and not shutting up for three minutes will obtain that raw, destructive edge Lee's genius mindset once resembled. It's a cannibal cookout…for Christ's sake I understand! You're eating people! JUST SHUT UP!

Needless to say, this is embarrassing. Lee and his crew are, of course, death metal's greatest warriors, yet whatever went on during Bone Gnawer's cannibal cookout (haha) pretty much ate itself alive once things got moving. Instrumentally and vocally, nothing of value emerges, and this sucker won't cause any neck-snapping brutality, but rather a catnap. Not bad if you're feline, which you're not, I hope. So basically, it's those major and minor things alike that eat, gnaw, bite, and chew everything Bone Gnawer was supposed to be into a ruptured mess of sub-par, unintelligent death metal. I don't think anyone in the mood to tolerate such utter tomfoolery should consider purchasing Feast of Flesh, no sir. How this project excelled on paper is understandable, but Feast of Flesh is one meal you'll benefit from skipping out on, even if the lineup sounds intriguing.