“The Sanguine Article”…the second installment in the chronicles of gore and disgust by grind super-group Psycopathologist has been unleashed, finished ahead of schedule so that Sisyphean can kick into gear. Featuring Rick Fisher (guitar/vocals), Jack Barrett (bass/vocals) Derek (guitar/programming), Jackson (guitar), Lucas (drums), the band have moved on ever so slightly from their crusty, under produced grinding slaughter of ‘Pathological Atrocity Exhibit’ to something more cleaner, better produced, technical but still old school.

‘There is something to be said about old school grindcore, that mixes that early Napalm Death assault with a healthy smattering of Carcass and Nasum and whatever else you can think of. It’s done the way it should be…but with a modern edge. The guys I worked with did a great job, now I can’t wait to work with those who will be involved with Sisyphean on something totally different. Enough blatant plugging…’ said Rick Fisher.




1. Illegitimeat
2. Satisfaction in Putrefaction
3. Snorting of Cadaveric Resin
4. Cranial Examinations of Ballistic Trauma
5. The Berdella Experiment
6. A Platter of Splatter
7. Textbook Clinicism
8. Cold Surgical Precison of Medical Detritous
9. Pathologically Deranged and Rearranged
10. Unfortunate Medical Malpractice

For now, you wont hear of anything from Psycopathologist whilst Fisher and Barrett concentrate on Sisyphean but you can be rest assured that they will return, covered in gore.

ooc: Apologies for the large image.

The band have also decided to release the lyrics for this album which was not done for the first one. Enjoy..


The Berdella Experiment
There was a deranged man called Robert Berdella
A quite twisted, sick and truculent fella
With a meticulous approach to torture
In well written books he detailed his horror
Young men he had chosen for pleasure
On film he’d record his personal treasure
Of rape, torture and murderous revelry


Cranial Examinations of Ballistic Trauma
Such an exciting way to study the brain
From the effects of ballistic trauma
Whether it’s at close range or afar
With a .22, .44 or 7.62 Soviet shell
Such joy is obtained from the analysis
Of entry points, cranial impactions
And grey matter dispersal, whether death
Is sudden or delivered over a matter of minutes or hours
From a well placed shot from a Berretta
Or Magnum or my favourite, a shotgun

A Platter of Splatter
Served up on only the best
Meticulously crafted silverware
The remains of the deceased
Arranged for your feast
Livers, kidneys and hearts
With cumin, paprika and chives garnished
With a few sprigs of parsley
And a dash of lemon to taste
Seared ever so lightly or roasted
Deep fried or toasted
Be it red and raw, dripping with gore
Medium rare or fresh of the bone
Whatever your gastronomical desires may be
Dusted with herbs and spices
Enjoy your feast of organic vices

Snorting of Cadaveric Resin
Ground up and pounded
The remains of the medically vexed
Into snortable powders and resin
Through the nasal passage
pseudostratified columnar epithelium register
The powders and dusts that assail the passages
And allow the brain to register a scent
That to the clinically deranged is quite pleasant

Clinically Deranged and Rearranged (Instrumental)

Satisfaction in Putrefaction
A pleasurable decadence in the decaying stiffs
The pungent anaerobic aromas, as I take a whiff
Ecstasy in decay as the bodily mass slowly fades
In the stomach churning process of putrefaction
An accumulation of gas, your corpse begins to swell
As discoloration of the integumentary system begins
Your corpse enters a state of maturation
Only you’re just a little bit over ripe
As the gases exude from your gaping wounds
From the steaming gasses of your decaying organ system,
An odorous, excruciating volatility
I am about to be sick from your mortality
I inhale and ingest the effects of toxic cadaverine and
to me, a delightfully fragrant whiff of putrescine
All as your body is about to explode
It’s so stupefying as you begin to liquefy

Illegitimeat
The bastard infants I take
Steaming, fresh from the womb
So that their flesh I may slake
My embryonic maladdiction
Unfortunately for them, its not fiction
As animal feed and fodder
Into troughs their flesh goes
Hashed and deboned
They won’t die alone
Without contrite thought
Nor a single tear
When steel and flesh meet
To create this ghastly feast
For the slavering hordes of primal beasts
I hand reared for pathological needs

“Such is the nature of the pet food business”

Cold Surgical Precision of Medical Detritous
With surgical precision you are butchered into my collection
Sawed bones and torn sinew from blunt and rusted implements
Such tools of the trade, all are handmade
A quivering sanguinary pile of medical detritus

Medical malpractice allows me to practice
A rather disturbing limbonic art
Where your limbs are dispatched without anaesthetic
For where would be the fun without the screams?

With the deftness of a butcher hacking at meat
I now become an expert in podiatry
In the state that you are, you won’t need your feet
A psychopathologist in bloody revelry0


Unfortunate Medical Malpractice
Greetings to my first patient in my practice
You have just made a grievous mistake
A Doctor I may be, a doctor of death
One who practices gross medical misconduct

Erroneous assumptions of physical indications
Treatments that are not in your best interests
Ignoring all of the contraindications
I am obsessed with your impending death
At the hands of a psychopathologist

To satisfy my forensic inquisition
You shall submit to the pathologist’s scalpel
To satisfy my forensick amusements
I shall tend to your scalp
With a rusty hacksaw and blade,
The sounds of the blades teeth on skin it chews
And biting into your cranium, not to mention your screams
You do not sound even remotely amused


Textbook Clinicism
The foul remains of inquisitively tendered corpses
Explored to the depths of their bloody core
Organs extracted for atomization
All for my psychotic elation

Through healthy tissue I hack and saw
No signs of cancerous malignancy
Perhaps I had made a mistake
Still in medicine there is some give and take
Unfortunately it had to be them
Their remains to be turned into sanguinary stew

All in the name of medicine
Textbook Clinicism

At the hands of the clinically deranged
Their bodily mass I shall steadily reduce
Inhaling the fumes of repugnant murder
Latent odorous effluvium has overwhelmed
And drives me on in with a grotesque high

The cold pathologist slabs grow colder by the hour
In this demented and depraved human laboratory
The steady pitter patter of blood on the stained tiles
Oozing from the experimental subjects I defile

Steel trays hold the detritus delicately removed
Livers and hearts and kidneys accrue
Turning their sinews into a vulgar glue
Churning their brains into animal feed lot gruel

The procedures are now complete
With wounds and incision they are now replete
External wounds, the gore they excrete
The stiffs are now wheeled away for an eternal
Internment in cold concrete

Edited by user 24 September 2009 20:37:39(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

Had a great time recording this with you guys, a true masterpiece on the field of grind core. I'm currently enjoying every last riff a lyric of the collaboration, and I must say it is utterly fantastic. Possibly the most gore-tastic, bone crushing, stomach churning compilation of pure genious I've heard in quite a long time. I'll be in touch soon about Sisyphean.

-Jackson
Nile's Fear