WVRM

WVRM

 Greenville, South Carolina, USA
BandMetalNoise

Grinding Self-Hatred.

Band Press

For Fans Of Pig Destroyer – Heavy Blog Is Heavy

Simply put, WVRM is heavy, as in really, really heavy. The Greensville, SC have truly become masters of their craft in their relatively short career thus far, incorporating elements of sludge metal as well as deathgrind into their sound in order to create one unholy mind-fuck of noise. The guitars are massive, creating walls of chugging riffs that provide a nice groove for the frantic drum and bass assault to fit in. Best of all, the band can go from blasting through minute long songs into Primitive Man-esque sludge almost seamlessly, often leaving you feeling as if you went from being punched in the stomach really fast, to receiving, smaller, harsher punches instead. WVRM is for those who want to see just how extreme deathgrind can be, as well as be able to say they were supporting them before all of the big metal sites worshiped them.

Swarm Sound – Dead Tank Records

"A brutal catharsis of blast beats, layered feedback and nihilistic extremety"

Swarm Sound – Rainbow Hub

In his diary, President George Washington once described South Carolina as “the most miserable pine barren I ever saw”. A claustrophobic combination of heat, moisture, and dense woodlands to trap it all in have left the region with the nickname “the Devil’s Armpit”. The Palmetto State may not be the first place one thinks of when discussing hotbeds of heavy, aggressive music. However, something sinister has been slowly brewing in the murky swamps.

Beginning with Egyptology-enthusiasts and death metal legends Nile, then carried on by deathcore pioneers Through The Eyes Of The Dead, South Carolina’s metal and hardcore scene has been stewing to perfection in secret. As covered by Kylesa’s Phillip Cope in an article for CVLT NATION, the tradition of sandlapper extremity is being kept alive and well today by a dedicated pool of highly gifted bands. It’s a small pond populated by Great Whites.

With some of the sharpest teeth in the shark tank is Greenville, South Carolina’s WVRM (pronounced worm). Describing their genre as “grinding self-hatred”, the band is comprised of four prodigiously talented sonic sadists in guitarist Holland Gilstrap, drummer Brett Terrapin, bassist Eli Ackerman, and vocalist Ian Nix. Each could easily be called a scene veteran despite a median age of 23 between them, having shared the stage together since high school in bands such as The Terrigen Mists, Divulgence, and We Sail At Dawn.

WVRM’s sound is a logical progression in the modern atmosphere of metal and hardcore, an indecipherable fusion of all things mean and ugly sounding. WVRM cherry picks from every extreme genre available, ranging from blackened death and thrashy hardcore, crusty sludge to grinding noise, cohesively lashed together with a greasy, southern flair. I hesitantly say they may be the heaviest powerviolence band I’ve ever heard (live or studio). They also use a Japanese-language Attack on Titan sample, which means they get it, demonstrating a sense of humor just as bitter and blackened as their music.

Their debut full-length album Swarm Sound follows two self-released EPs, 2013’s aptly named Despair, along with Where All Light Dies from earlier this year. The new album contains re-recorded and reworked material from these previous releases. Top to bottom, Swarm Sound is a pure product of the South Carolina extreme music scene. With production done by Columbia/Lexington-based producer Roger Caughman (darkentries, Aversions), and album art done by veteran vocalist Korey Smith (Vultures, From Idle Hands), Swarm Sound is an album that is inseparable from it’s time and place.

Vocalist Ian Nix howls like a wounded animal through out the album’s brief, though dense, 25-minute run time. His gravel-throated, yet tonally diverse vocals bleed gruesomely upon the tracks. Nix’s viciously spewed lyrics are written like heart-breaking journal entries. When read along with songs, they paint a detailed image of an individual’s personal suffering, simulating the chest-crushing weight of deep depression with the help of riffs so heavy it’s emotionally tolling.

The three-pronged assault of Gilstrap’s saw-mill guitar tone, Ackerman’s concussion-inducing bass attack, and the belt-fed machine gun drumming served up by Terrapin leaves the listener feeling like they just (barely) survived an artillery strike. If there is a break in their overwhelming onslaught, it is just so they can reload, as ever-present feedback is accompanied by haunting samples or soul-crushing asides screamed by Nix.

From the album’s opening, an unprovoked attack called “Demoness”, to the bone-chilling closer, “Eulogist”, Swarm Sound never ceases it’s attempt to disorient and dismember the listener. The entire album is marked by harsh, almost punishing feedback noise between bouts of the filthiest blast beats this side of the Mississippi, building into the kind of venomous, sludge-derived breakdowns that seasoned mosh pit warriors have learned to beware.

The riffs and grooves erupt from the band’s instruments like a xenomorph larva bursting through Kane’s chest in Alien. It’s the sound of a breaking dam, a vulgar display of uncontainable anguish. In twenty-five bleak minutes, WVRM picks up the gauntlet dropped by Nails’ 2013 masterpiece, Abandon All Life, and start swinging for the pit walls without mercy. Misery loves company, and WVRM wants to share it’s pain with you.

It hurts so good.

(P.S. For the music nerds: the album’s final track “As The Light Dies…” is technically just a long sample of the song “Goodbye My Little Cherokee”, by the late country-western singer Tex Ritter. To contextualize the inclusion of this track, look to the lyrics of “Coffin Dragger Part II” and “Funeral Heart”.

“Mother, I held your hand

my warmth left with yours

eyes half open, I stared at the void

a haunting vision of where you now wander

do my screams pierce the earth of your grave?

____________________

____________________

…leaves gently falling upon your name

and everyday I return to embrace the headstone

overgrown and broken

as these tears are falling

I sing to you every night from here”

After connecting these dots, I suggest looking at pictures of cute puppies to keep from having the blues all day.)

You can download WVRM’s entire body of work, including Swarm Sound at your own price on wvrmgrind.bandcamp.com

Follow them at facebook.com/wvrmgrind, they also offer merch.

Dom Romeo of A389 Recordings – A389 Recordings

"These guys know HOW to send a demo. Best package I've received in 10+ years of A389"

Emo breakup grindcore is somehow really great – Encyclopaedia Metallum

Okay, picture this: Nails and Magrudergrind have a baby. This baby grows up into a pummeling grindcore machine - and then high school happens. And while simultaneously being sad and dim and poetic and going through multiple failed relationships, said lovechild manages to still be an absolutely crushing force in grindcore. There, you have WVRM. And atop his pile of crumbled breakup poems and Edgar Allan Poe quotes is Where All Light Dies.

Lyrical mockery aside, of course, this album is pure fucking fury. The (not even) eight and a half minutes compacted within this little tape are unrelenting, uncompromising, and angry as all hell. Every second is fleshed right out from the pile of just about everything that grindcore can do right and mashes them into the dark, monstrous release that is, as the title says, Where All Light Dies. In this place of death and darkness, a cavernous, enraged stampede of drums makes way before jumping in for the kill, slashing its way through frenzies of pounding, distorted guitars and bass. There are maniacal blast beats and sludgy breakdowns littered throughout this album, slit and gutted so easily it seems as though the band can do it in their sleep. And over this is the crooning screech of a tormented soul whose only wish is to chant about death.

And that about sums it up. There isn't much detail I can go into with this album; it's all pretty much here. Some moments stand out among others, such as the brick-to-the-face intro riff to "Smell ov Old Graves," or the sluggish, monumental ending breakdown in "Wounded Dog." I'd particularly recommend listening to the album as a whole, as the songs all tend to melt together and play as one cohesive piece (not the mention they all glide one into another with the ring of feedback anyway).

The lyrics - despite being easy to make fun of - are pretty cool, too. Most of the songs are about nostalgia or lost love, but in a way that's not as sappy as, say, an emo revival or post-hardcore band writing about the same thing. They actually tend to be pretty dark; whatever the lyricist went through must have been quite an attachment, because I'd be convinced that he's actually suicidal if it weren't for the fact that he's alive and still playing in a band.

So, to summarize, this is definitely an album that packs a punch and doesn't wear out its welcome. It doesn't exactly bring anything new to the table, but it's also heavy and barbaric enough that it completely obliterates the table anyway. Highly recommended, either for long-time fans of grindcore or for people who are just getting into it. I'd certainly love to see the band take what they have and perhaps put it in a more atmospheric direction, but this is so good on its own, why should I complain?

Swarm Sound – SON OF FLIES webzine (Italy)

Greenville is the basis of WVRM , active from 2013 and already had two albums. The boys of South Carolina scrape the meat with a fierce and fast grindcore which owes much to the Old School groups. So, you can well imagine what the direction followed on this last "Swarm Sound". The frenzied impact of the traces does not leave any doubt about. The loyalty that our reserve to certain sounds can not be underestimated and it is no coincidence that the modus operandi of WVRM is conditioned by that school of thought, growing well, the anger against the possible adverse reactions to their gender choices. If you decide to be violent in music, you can not shirk the rather strict rules permanent. The masters of the lesson must never be forgotten. It is clear to everyone! The WVRM contrast the mainstream trend by offering a sound mix that is inspired by many prominent names of the scene and it is for this reason that will delight maniacs sector mentioned. No melodies, no catchy chorus, then, but only a discharge of watts that will make you bleed your eardrums. From the first bars of "Demoness" (opening track), in fact, they WVRM slaughter mercilessly putting it clear their vile intentions. Appear compact, determined, cynical and supported by the murderous rage of a frontman spewing hate on his rusty microphone from saliva viscose. Of course, it is still little structurally but still effective. Contacts: wvrmgrind.bandcamp.com - facebook.com/wvrmgrind TRACKLISTING: Demoness, Grim Rose, Dimly Left Atop Her Grave, Coffin Dragger Part II, Funeral Heart, Sewn Limbs, Cry Baby, Dear Parasite Swarm Sound, Embrace the Noose, Home Is Where the Hornets Nest, Bone Tower, Appleseed, Blastphemous, eulogist, As The Light Dies ...

Greenville Grindcore Band WVRM Expands the Scope of Its Potent Aggression – The Free Times

It was just another tour stop for Greenville’s blistering WVRM. The Greenville grindcore band, traveling with the similarly bracing Grim, showed up a night early to its scheduled venue in Indianapolis, joining one lucky girl’s birthday party. The partygoers learned an important lesson — don’t let the heshers find the free booze if you’re not ready for the consequences.

“We start dancing and taking our shirts off and acting like complete fools,” recalls WVRM singer Ian Nix. “We were just yelling and jumping around, 10 shirtless, disgusting dudes ruining this poor girl’s birthday.”

Party crashers or party animals, the fact is that 2015 hasn’t been all wildin’ out for the Upstate dynamo.

“This year has been tough for everyone,” Nix says. “While we’ve had many opportunities as a band we’ve had some pretty hard personal times, as well.”

Relationship, family and job troubles hit various members of the band. The musicians’ wages were hardly sufficient when Nix lost two vehicles — one to an accident, another to engine failure — in a four-month span. And, more heartbreaking for the frontman, his dog has taken ill. Indeed, Nix’s troubles alone would be enough to leave many people immobilized by depression.

It’s an old adage, but WVRM knows it’s true — the music got them through.

“Everyone has times in their lives when they’re in pain,” Nix says. “Our music is about that because it’s necessary to get that out in some way. It’s therapeutic to express it in a positive manner.”

Nix says they’re generally upbeat, positive dudes — surprising for a group that creates music it publicly terms “grinding self-hate.” It’s a duality they embrace and utilize in their playing.

“We just have fun playing shows and being around people that dig it and feel the same way,” Nix explains.

WVRM’s steady stream of releases since 2013 has pushed this idea to new extremes — particularly Where All Light Dies and Swarm Sound, the two exceptional full-lengths the band released last year. The razor sharp songs blast forth with jagged guitars, frantic rhythms and vocal howls to make floors shake and paint peel.

WVRM excels at ripping through songs in 30 second or less, but sets itself apart when it stretches a bit further. The group’s latest latest, a self-titled 7-inch released in June, is yet another expansion of its ferocious potential.

“Slug Lord,” the A-side, clocks in just under five minutes and plays like the marathon that it is for this band. Trudging to life with menacing doom metal, it eventually explodes with manic, chord-shifting riffs and high-tempo thrashing. Towards the end, the band throws in some double-kick, minor key death metal for good measure. “Slug Lord” takes you like smoke asphyxiation, slowly working your senses until the floor gives way beneath you. Flip the record, and “Wasp Lord” reveals a one-minute blast of the band’s familiar fire-licking fury.

Part of the record’s robust sound can be attributed to the addition of Derick Caperton, the group’s first permanent guitarist.

“We wanted to do something a little different with [‘Slug Lord’],” Nix says. “We just thought it would be cool if we took all of the stuff we like and literally write a song with every aspect of it.”

It’s a sound that, Nix humbly reports, has earned WVRM “a great deal of support from the local scene” and in other parts of the country.

For its next recordings, a set the Greenville grinders eagerly anticipate releasing, and subsequent efforts, Nix says that WVRM will continue to motivate itself with one simple directive:

“Faster. Heavier,” he says.

Swarm Sound – NOLYB.com

Swarm Sound is the third release in less than a year from Greenville, South Carolina's, WVRM. This is a band who is not wasting any time getting on the radar of pretty much every metal fan in their home state, as well as some regional indie labels. Deservedly so, considering how ferocious and unrelenting their output has been thus far, and Swarm Sound is no different in that regard.

This is an album masterfully mixed by Roger Caughman of another fantastic S.C. band who have gained some national buzz, darkentries. Imagine Converge and Pig Destroyer trapped in a giant hornet's nest; WVRM is what comes barreling out at blinding speed, covered in welts, and screaming in pain, but still coming directly for your throat. It is a sound that is terrifying, and unstoppable in it's determination to destroy everything.

Two of my all-time favorite things to hear on a heavy album are prominently on display during Swarm Sound; blast-beats, and layered feedback. From the moment "Demoness" blares out of the speakers, you're sucked into the mire of "grinding self-hatred" that is WVRM. The occasional catchy riff provides only enough sunlight to remind you that you're not getting out of this bleak pit alive. It is immediately obvious that these guys aren't playing around here; to say this is intense music would be like saying that oxygen is important.

At the halfway point, "Dear Parasite" slows the pace of the album just enough to make you think you're getting a break, but no, playing at half-speed only makes WVRM sound more brutal. The guitar tone is massive, the vocals are maniacal, and tortured; I found myself compelled to crush everything in sight several times during this album. The title track is a harsh, growled vocal over swarming insects before arriving at a blast-fueled crescendo and subsequent breakdown. This will scare the bejesus out of your average person, and for that, I love it.

It's not pleasant listening in as much as the subject matter is downright depressing at times, and of course, there's the grindcore assault on your ears throughout. However, this is truly awe-inspiring in it's dark, and nihilistic extremity; it's like watching an inferno and noticing the beautiful shades of orange as it engulfs your surroundings. “Blastphemous” is 43 eardrum-shredding seconds of glorious chaos, punctuated by more blasts and feedback in between speedy, Metallic Hardcore riffs. A Tex Ritter sample closes the album with a creepy exclamation point I'm sure would make the old cowboy turn in his grave.

If you're looking for something brutally heavy and cathartic, this is the album for you, without question. Combining the speed of Grindcore with undeniable, huge-sounding breakdowns, WVRM have unleashed a true monster on the world. A swarming sound of fury, and despair, offering no hope for the world, only the soundtrack to it's destruction.

Summer Brawl Festival – Summer Brawl Festival

"We are proud of WVRM. We back them 110% and are happy to have them on the bill. There's a lot going on in our country right now and I have all the respect in the world for those out there actually fighting for what is right."

Swarm Sound – The Free Times

As an extreme collision of metallic technicality and hardcore violence, grindcore isn’t known for its patience. When brutality is your primary end, the means can become rushed and repetitive. But Greenville’s WVRM bucks these notions, taking time during its punitive onslaughts to smell the flowers on the gravestones.

Released in October, Swarm Sound is an unexpected improvement over Where All Light Dies — the other unflinching album WVRM offered in 2014, a record that found the quartet tempering the overwhelming chaos of its crazed eviscerations with a new sense of discipline. Swarm Sound goes a step further, proving that there’s more to the group than straightforward grind.

Not that the group can’t do that: Swarm Sound’s opening tandem of “Demoness” and “Grim Rose” overpower the listener with an all out blitzkrieg — the first wave propelled by jackhammering drums and riffs that alternately sprint and clobber, the second allowing Ian Nix’s ferocious snarl to merge with the sandblasting distortion of guitarist Holland Gilstrap and bassist Eli Ackerman, while drummer Brett Terrapin sustains his rapid-fire punishment.

But WVRM also succeeds with less common techniques. Across the first two minutes of the title track, Nix barks with throat-tearing sincerity over nothing but buzzing flies. When the instruments kick in, it’s a short, sludgy punctuation, cutting out as the singer gleans a mantra from his downtrodden conclusion: “God doesn’t exist,” he repeats, his faithless moan more desperate that brash. Conversely, “Dear Parasite” is an instrumental tour de force, initially throbbing with doom-inspired patience before the rhythm kicks into high gear. But Gilstrap holds his ground, conjuring thick clouds of downtuned tension above the melee.

Following a record that solidified the group’s grindcore powers, Swarm Sound pushes beyond them, establishing WVRM as one of this state’s elite heavy bands.