Vore aren't new kids; they've been toiling in the metal trenches since the mid '90s. The ideas they convey aren't new either, but death metal is all in the delivery. Gravehammer unfolds as a storm of swarming, chopping, chainsaw riffs, driven by a volatile rhythmic butchery. Riffs often fall into a flailing, circular churn, bolstered by the badass beats. There's plenty of hoary, hammered-on guitar work that plays well against the base bashing. Solos are sparse and purposeful, full of sane, semi-melodic sweeping that works well enough.
Frontman Page Townsley's vocals are gloriously guttural and demonically deep. The lyrics are delivered synchronously with Gravehammer's marching cadence, as if by a monomaniacal drill sergeant. Pithy, scream-along choruses beg for listener participation, or perhaps demand it.
None of Vore's weapons would work if the riffs and rhythm didn't rip off your head; Gravehammer does that consistently and voraciously. Remy Cameron's flawlessly executed drums direct the maelstrom with panache and precision. Perfectly innocuous production lets this thing speak for itself. You'll want to listen. Every day is a fight to the death; Gravehammer is a perfect soundtrack to your quotidian combat.