Pressure is the last will and testament of Broward County, Florida hardcore band Bloodbather. While they never really seemed to break out in the same kind of way that some of their contemporaries did, I end up thinking about this band and their EP often for two very good reasons: 1) it fucking rips, and 2) Bloodbather's Pressure (to my ears at least) embodies the era of hardcore in which it was made like few others. Prior to 2020, hardcore, internationally I would say, was undergoing a serious metalcore revival, but not just any kind of metalcore revival, the side of metalcore that transitions seamlessly into the nu-metal epoch of alternative metal- drop-tuned guitars, massive sounding drums, electronic dance music influrences, record scratches, big-ass chunky grooves- you know exactly what I'm talking about, need I go on? While I think this style of groove-core really saw its zenith with Code Orange's Underneath, Bloodbather's 2018 EP represents more of the fateful wind up to that final blow, a scrappy yet malicious and terminally ugly mental meltdown that slides comfortably between the tension-amping, Martyr AD-esque punishment of Sanction and the psycho-overclocking, human-test subject water-boarding-beat of Vein. Listening to Pressure, even now, feels like you're tempting desisater to enter your life adn mess up your whole situation. It sounds like what ever device your listening to it on has acquired some form of vicious malware and is now plotting with some decentralized, hive-ai as to the best, and most painful, way of murdering you in your sleep. The central members of BloodBather have moved on to a deathcore project they're calling Crucifiction, but the legacy of their prior efforts have left a bruised imprint on my soul that I hope never fully heals.
