Style: yes (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Neurosis, The Shaggs, Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music, early Pink Floyd, Tool’s interlude tracks, shittyflute
Country: Switzerland
Release date: 1 October 2026

---

Reviewing bad music is a bit of a pickle. Even if you wanna bash something you don’t like, you still recognize the care, effort, and instrumental proficiency that went into the production. Who wouldn’t feel remorse for shitting on someone else’s hard work, right…? But what if the music is intentionally bad? Such is the case with today’s culprits, Convulsif. Now, whether the Anatomy of Rage was meant as a “slap in the face of public taste”, a joke, or a deep exploration of the human condition, I couldn’t tell. Without lyrics to guide my feeble understanding, I can only speculate based on what I’m hearing, and that is, um… interesting? What seems to be without doubt is that Convulsif aim to push the boundaries of conventional expression.¹ I’m fairly certain there’s someone out there—probably wearing a scarf even in 30°C and glasses with frames wider than their arms, even though their eyesight is perfectly fine—who thinks that anything regular human beings can recognize as music is a betrayal of artistic integrity by conforming to the limited perception of the unwashed masses, and who will call me an ignorant pleb in the comment section.² For that person, Anatomy of Rage is a solid 7/10; go have fun with it. For the rest of us normies, let the roast begin!

Anatomy of Rage opens with the most abrasive distorted bass tone I’ve ever heard, eerily reminiscent of how I blow my nose. The frustratingly slow syncopation of “Monitor and Limit,” with that festering abomination of a doom riff and rubber chicken-sounding clarinet noises, is a surprisingly faithful recreation of my first two minutes after waking up in allergy season. What follows is a cavalcade of disparate styles jammed together with the finesse of a jacked-up toddler building with all the types of blocks they’ve found in their toybox. Frantic improvised segments that sound like a tasteless parody of jazz—with screechy clarinet and angry hornet-like violins—abruptly transition into lengthy atmospheric sections with whispered spoken word or minimalistic doom, then explode into grindcore or hardcore punk. Some moments wouldn’t feel out-of-place on a dissodeath record; others lean into post-whatever, outright noise, or even drone. Many of these ideas come across as bare-bones and undercooked, thrown in for maximal irritation. As a result, most tracks feel less like coherent compositions, and more like Tyler’s bullshit from The Menu. Except these guys know what they’re doing and they chose to do this anyway. Convulsif‘s greatest sin, however, is not that Anatomy of Rage is annoying, but that it’s often really fuckin’ boring. When the music isn’t devolving into chaos, it’s too slow, too disjointed, too basic, too pointless, and way too drawn-out.

To be fair, Anatomy of Rage is not without redeeming qualities. For example, there are no vocals, thankfully, cause I can’t even imagine what Convulsif would do with them…³ But seriously, the rhythm section is pretty sick. When allowed to go wild, the drums lay down elaborate beats that could serve as a solid foundation for a more traditional prog record. Similarly, there are a couple of fun bass lines, which can go heavy or funky, depending on the player’s whim. The two instruments provide one of the few unironically enjoyable moments in the punky opening of “Facing the Fasces”. Too bad that segment is just bait for that godawful clarinet, making me cringe so hard my ring muscles almost collapse into neutronic matter. The closest representation I can come up with for the unwelcome intrusion of that squeaky sound is the feeling you get when you put your sweaty backpack back on your soaked-through T-shirt on a windy mountain top. Brrrrrreagh.

Convulsif also have a strong sense for atmosphere when they choose to apply it. “No Sound Footing”, for instance, could work quite well in the score of some late 70s, artsy fantasy flick. Unexpectedly, the most accessible track on Anatomy of Rage is the nineteen-minute monstrosity, “The Pitch, the Plight, the Polymer”. The song has a strong, post-metal build-up from eerie drone to atmospheric space rock, with exciting cymbal work and tasty bass licks, and the other instruments setting a tastefully unsettling tone, unlike the earlier cacophony. Sure, “The Pitch, the Plight, the Polymer” is absolutely too long, a bit generic, and has some weird stops. But it is cohesive and provides a nice diversion from the rest of this madness. I could imagine Steven Wilson doing something similar after a particularly bad batch of hash brownies.

According to their promo, Anatomy of Rage was supposed to “dissect anger itself”. Yet, the things I felt while listening to the record were mostly what one feels after rage: confusion, apprehension, exhaustion, and regret. I got the strong impression that Convulsif set out to create the most obnoxious music they possibly can—and they even failed at that. There are pleasant sections dispersed throughout the record, but they aren’t incorporated well enough to hook the unassuming listener. On the other hand, the very existence of such blissful moments feels like a betrayal of the band’s artistic vision. Like, if you guys wanna make it bad, go all the way, earn yourselves a proper 1/10! That would be daring. Otherwise, if you have a message to share, deliver it in a fashion that folks can appreciate without pretense. I’m sorry I can’t be more positive about this record, as Convulsif seem like nice people. I hope these guys at least had fun making Anatomy of Rage. For me, it was certainly painful.

---

Recommended tracks: No Sound Footing, The Pitch, the Plight, the Polymer
You may also like: pozvakowski, Panzerballet, Albert Einstein Bizottság, KRAKHOUSE, Clown Core
Final verdict: π/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Deszpot Records/Akari Records/Day Off Records/Ramble Records/Cheap Satanism Records/Wayside

Convulsif is:
– Christian Müller (bass clarinet)
– Jamasp Jhabvala (violin)
– Loïc Grobéty (bass)
– Maxime Hänsenberger (drums)

1. More like knocking them over, then teabagging them for good measure. ↩︎
2. Although I would genuinely be interested in what that person takes away from all this. ↩︎
3. Actually, the spoken words of “Development”, which sound like they were whispered into a megaphone, give me a decent idea. ↩︎