Greetings and Salutations!

So we're out of commission in terms of live shows until Gramlich's vertebrae heals. Here's what happened: http://www.exclaim.ca/articles/generalarticlesynopsfullart.aspx?csid2=844&fid1=39464&csid1=0

Supreme jam-dog, and rip-squad master Skotto Robotto of Akroid/The Smile (who has recorded three brand-spanking new Vilipend tracks for a forthcoming release at his Gorgeous Ind. Studio) has fired up a great new blog called Pyramid Scheme Magazine, chronicling his (excellent) taste in music in Toronto. We were featured in Monday's article, check it out! http://pyramidschememagazine.blogspot.com/

You can catch Skotto's band Akroid on tour with Vilipend and the mighty KEN Mode from Winnipeg this summer... stay tuned...

-Crossley

http://www.exclaim.ca/musicreviews/generalreview.aspx?csid2=846&fid1=37895&csid1=133

Vilipend
Love Left to Rot…
By Max Deneau

Hell-bent on single-handedly reviving the noisecore genre in the Greater Toronto Area, Vilipend's left-of-centre, chaotic assault will please anyone looking for a legit alternative to the polished, breakdown-laden fare so common in modern metal acts. Incorporating influences from a wide range of artists, very few of which are still active in the current decade, Love Left to Rot… will leave the listener broken, bruised and dead set on hitting the repeat button to inflict further harm on themselves. Vocalist Chris Gramlich, coming across as a more vulnerable, disillusioned Jacob Bannon (Converge), howls maniacally over five blistering tracks that resemble the neglected offspring of Buzzov*en and Deadguy. Throw in a touch of Cable's suicidal bluesy sludge and you have a pretty potent cocktail that, despite its obvious influences, comes across as more believable and refreshing than just about anything on the market today. A punchy, raw production from Canada's own Greg Dawson (Mare, the End) caps off one of the strongest debut EPs to see release in quite some time. Those interested in something uncompromising and authentic that translates disgustingly well to a live show should do themselves a favour and invest in Vilipend. (Whore For A Heart)

http://www.chartattack.com..../reviews/68037/vilipend-lo....ve-left-to-rot
Vilipend
Love Left To Rot...

Trying to capture one's live essence on record with a sound quality that annihilates is precious for a metal band. Achieving that goal is rarer than finding anything of value in post-Cliff Burton Metallica.

Vicious Toronto quartet Vilipend have pulled off recreating their sonic might on their Love Left To Rot... debut EP. The stunning release's five songs are the culmination of Neurosis' ungainly presence, Kittens' blind rage and Today Is The Day's complexity. But Vilipend are clearly not about embracing their influences so much as beating them into submission and reconfiguring the bloody pulp into bouts of commanding, spotless delivery, mind-numbing structures and unforgettably grinding riffs.

Love Left To Rot... ravages with its beastly low end rumble and oscillations between lumbering dirges, cacophonous panic attacks and an overwhelming sense of fear and thrill all at the same time.

Despite the music industry being in free-fall and people apparently no longer buying CDs, we've finally received the discs for Love Left To Rot..., because, well, we figure people aren't going to steal it or download it "illegally" until the tangible version exists. Plus, we believe it's what Black Flag would do. The very limited edition CD features artwork by the renowned Matt Daley​ (www.shinypliers.com) and is available at Vilipend shows, at Hits and Misses in Toronto, ON or from us directly via the MySpace for the very reasonable price of ten Canadian dollars, plus postage. (Don't worry, we won't Simon Brody you.) Love Left To Rot... was recorded at BWC Studios by Greg Dawso​n and was produced by Vilip​end and Mr. Dawso​n (who's done amazing records for the likes of Mare, the End, the Abandoned Hearts Club, Titan and many more).​

There's a button on the left side of the Vilipend MySpace home page. Click it to download the full-version of the Love Left to Rot.​.​.​ EP, gratis (it means free-of-charge). It was recorded at BWC Studios by Greg Dawso​n this past August and was produced by Vilip​end and Mr. Dawso​n (who's done amazing records for the likes of Mare, the End, the Abandoned Hearts Club, Titan and many more).​ We're incredibly​ proud of​ these​ songs​ and of this recording; it sound​s "crush​ing." Limited CDs with some amazing original artwo​rk by Matt Daley​ (www.shinypliers.com) will be available very soon.

You can now check​ out the full Love Left to Rot.​.​.​ EP, streaming on our MySpace page. It was recor​ded at BWC studios by Greg Dawso​n this past August, and was produ​ced by Vilip​end and Greg Dawso​n (who's done amazing records for the likes of Mare, the End, the Abandoned Hearts Club, Titan, and many more).​ We'​re incredibly​ proud of​ these​ songs​ and of this recor​ding; it sound​s 'crush​ing.' CDs will be avail​able soon, featuring much highe​r quali​ty audio​ and some amazi​ng origi​nal artwo​rk by Matt Daley​ (www.shiny​plier​s.​com).

Today was not their day. Every band have it: the show where nothing goes right and it becomes difficult to plug on when all odds are against you. Generally speaking, these frustrations tend to be of a technical nature — those glitches beyond anyone’s control. Such was the case with Nashville’s experimental noise metallers Today Is The Day on this occasion. Despite being renowned for pushing the boundaries of aggressive music, TITD relied far too greatly on mixed media: a computer, video screen backdrop and sound samples. Things were already growing tiresome during the almost-ten-minute opening segment of clips and two-minute shorts between songs. They had barely made it through three tunes in the first 20 minutes, and a portion of that was spent struggling to address a malfunction instead of forging ahead. When foregoing the sensory overload though, the trio were spot-on, loud, abrasive and commanding, nailing a set heavy on latest effort Axis Of Eden.If they had dropped the art school shenanigans and just delivered their vicious, uncompromising metal, they’d have been stellar instead of passable, and would have lived up to the energy level set by openers Vilipend. Letting the music speak for itself, but enhancing the atmosphere with two flood lights casting a foreboding shadow from behind, the Toronto-based quartet exploded with dark, brooding and menacing metal uniting the ferocity of Black Flag (the embittered, desperate screams of “What I See” kept coming to mind) with the technicality and ravenous attack of Converge. Factor in that blood was shed as bodies collided with instruments and the evening seemed on the edge of greatness... was it not for TITD’s digital dependency putting a severe damper on things.

People have been asking about lyrics and such, so here they are. Lyrics are also attached to songs playing on our page. There are currently four songs we've recorded or performed live that aren't included on Love Left To Rot..., being "The Burden of Clarity" and "The Tyranny of Distance," off of The Northern Hostility Sessions..., and new songs "Dulling Silver" and "Plague Bearer." The lyrics for those will be posted after the ones for Love Left To Rot..., which is now available in limited edition CD form.

[From Love Left To Rot...]

“Failings for Friends”

Her pain doesn’t make her special
Just useless
This is not a sickness
It’s a choice

When inspiration hits, with both hands grab hold
And rend and twist

These failings her only companions

She doesn’t even bother to cover her scars
And I wish that I was that strong
Sweating out the drugs
They say everything takes time

She breaks her down, and down, and down

“Kill The Pills…”

Hope is the aphrodisiac of the fool
Her lecherous hate preys upon her hurt

The possibilities so perfect before she speaks those words
Before she slits her throat
Scribbling sorrys with the hate that drains out
This push-pull turned to shove
Kill the pills with pain, she tears through the white
And she trembles at my touch and she dies in those arms

She dies in those arms
In those arms, lying next to her

Sleeve, heart, stapled shut, she always gets it wrong

Hate, hurt, want, need, shame cut with white, mixed with bourbon, lost in perdition

Bitter not Better, she is, bitter not better

Hate, hurt, want, need, shame cut with white, mixed with bourbon, lost in perdition

She takes these pills to pass the time, robbing her of her hope but still she hates
These hands stunt her ascension, pull her down to a place she thought she could leave
But never will, she thought she could leave but never will
Tearing through perdition

“In Desperation We Reach”

Scrub the scent from her skin
Her personal apocalypse
One glimpse of perfection
Reduced to all her failings

She can’t be anything

A moment of truth crushed under its weight

Scrub the scent from her skin

The only heart she has broken is her own

In her kiss beware the taste of lies, I can recall a touch of suicide
And she said, “In desperation we reach”
In those arms that is where I died and on her kiss, a taste of suicide
And she said, “In desperation we stumble”

We stumble, we fall

And she said, she said to me…
She needs better but I am just worse

“Wounds Worn as Badges”

Skin rubbed raw, drenched in hate, there’s a lack of poetry in her prose
This hate never healed, the absence burns her throat, chokes the words

Loathe the day she’s drowning on the thoughts she can’t speak to her
Wounds worn as badges turned to weights
Such beauty only rapes

These are the nights without end, she would say she’s suffered but it has yet to begin

Drained of empathy, she feels nothing

Lie to me...

We make time or make excuses still the blame slips away
This Northern hostility, her only gift to give
Past their prime but still were swallowed, she doesn’t want to be saved
In her hair a lifeless flower, in her shattered heart…

Love left to rot

The sight would rend hearts, if she could see what she has become
If she could

“Broken Not Breaking”

It’s in the ether, where her last chance for salvation went
Unsaid, unheard, like tears in the rain
She looks the part but can’t stand the reflection
Secrets fight their keeping, her hate blackened sun

She cried a river then drowned, washed away hope

Cry

She cried a river then drowned, washed away hope

Hope slips away, lost to dull grey, she doesn’t know how to be whole
Broken not breaking, she’s broke

She was warned but still she fell
Secrets fight their keeping, they desire…

She was warned but still she fell
She was warned

[Off of The Northern Hostility Sessions..., the two songs that weren't re-recorded]

'The Burden of Clarity'

She can see so clearly
Can't bear the
clarity

Desire decays to sickness
Her heart is a rape scene

Comfortable captivity
Head stuffed with cotton
Love left to rot
Her hate stumbles
Fails

Fashioning a coffin out of words
Buried hope
In her chest, lifeless husk withers

Her seams frayed and straining

'The Tyranny of Distance'

Everything or her nothing
And the inevitable conclusions
Such agony from adjectives
A way with words that don't fit

The Tyranny of Distance

Tide rolled in, drowned hope
She thought she'd miss the ruin
That she could be better
She just missed the reason
Oh there were stars, make no mistake, but overcast
She thought she'd miss the ruin

Cursed by sickened blight

Her touch could heal if she could bear it

Stained with crimson tears

This ascension turned...

Long decline
Every chance
Didn't take
Hate the bars
Need the leash

[New songs, not yet recorded]

'Dulling Silver...'

Comfort in capitulation
Always knew she'd take until gone
Swallowed shame, devoured hope
And what if this is all she can be?

Armed and armoured in hate and discontent
Crumbles in the face of her beauty
There's something wrong with her blood
The way it flows

She would give anything but it wouldn't ever be enough

Her half-hearted razor
Has lost its taste for self-abuse
[Can't muster the hate]
To Break the skin

She would give anything but it wouldn't ever be enough

She's a vision in black
Painted blue and covered in red
These tranquil moments come
Only in bottles

The darkness the light shies away from she can't bear

Dulling Silver

Carve caring into her broken shell, rotted flesh

Bear witness to the purity of self-abuse
And be saved, my child

"Plague bearer..."

Her touch, her kiss
Causes only sickness
Plague bearer

My touch, my kiss...
Plague bearer

Damnation, her caress

This coffin shut with painted nails

More and more she is less and less

Slit wrists can't help but harm
Scarred skin can't help but hurt
Some words are better off
Unsaid and unheard

Old words for new wounds
[Scars upon scars]
Conceal the wreckage behind her eyes

Even demons dream of heaven...

And when will she have given enough?
Bled enough, cried enough, taken enough?
To find compassion in calloused arms?

Devoid of hope and out of mind
She can't make her care, with stolen words
And a heart mended by hate