carnal savagery

Swedish vets carry their OSDM lineage into the roaring ’20s

BY now, there’s a pretty clear set of instructions for emulating the classic Swedish death metal sound that we all know and love—hell, if you have an HM-2 and some old At the Gates CDs lying around, you’re already halfway there—but if you’re a musician who actually lived through that early ’90s movement, simply picking up your guitar for a casual noodle session will likely suffice. Such is the case for Carnal Savagery’s drummer/songwriter Mikael Lindgren, who cut his death metal incisors with local favorites Cromlech in 1988 while many of his peers were writing music that would come to define an entire subgenre. ¶ “So much happened back then—it was an exciting time with all the demo tapes that were going around, like Grave, Entombed/Nihilist and many more,” remembers Lindgren. “Later, I got my hands on Death and Autopsy. I’ve always liked those bands the most, and that’s why we prefer to play the style that we do. And it will never change.” ¶ Indeed, Carnal Savagery’s take on death metal has more in common with the abject filth that was

coming out of America at the time than Gothenburg’s more melodic leanings. On Fiendish, their second LP, the band plows through 12 tracks that combine Chuck Schuldiner’s fondness for mid-paced crushery (“Vermin,” “In Death I Thrive”) with the distinctly vicious timbre of fellow countrymen Bloodbath, Unleashed and Vomitory. Coming off of 2020’s Grotesque Macabre, Lindgren’s goals were simple: add more guitar variation and dial up the overall brutality, which he deftly accomplished by recruiting new shredder Mattias Björklund and tuning everything down to B, respectively.and to finally give the band the attention it deserved in general.”

Sonic upgrades aside, perhaps the most impressive feature of Fiendish is its markedly short gestation period. A mere 12 months separate the album from its predecessor, which is especially notable considering it was written, rehearsed and recorded during a global pandemic that has disrupted the routines of bands far and wide. Lindgren doesn’t see this as much of a feat, though—for him and his bandmates, staying occupied with an endless barrage of disgusting riffs is the name of the game.

“I started writing new material on the very first day that we came home from [recording Grotesque Macabre],” he remembers. “A few months later, I quit my job so I could play guitar all day instead. In 10 months, I wrote more than 50 songs; then I chose the best 15 and worked on them some more. Actually, it’s the same thing now. We’re going back in the studio in May to record our third album, and I also have six songs ready for the fourth album. There’s no point in being