Should I jump out of my window, walk into the street and be run over by a car or drown myself in my bathtub? I am not the suicidal type, I happen to enjoy my life very much, but after listening to Madder Mortem’s Eight Ways, these were the thoughts running through my mind.

These 12 songs of head-splitting, horrendous shrieking left me craving a Costco size bottle of extreme pain reliever. There were a few moments throughout the album when the heinous wailing faded into a few calm and melodic measures composed mainly of soft guitar strumming and gentle drum beats. However, this soothing moment consistently ended quickly and the bellowing came back worse than it was before, leaving me cringing more ferociously than an arachnophobe completely surrounded by tarantulas. Only a masochist could find any form of pleasure in this horrific attempt at music.