#157 | Album Review | Chopping Mall – Mauled By A Magical Bear With Scalding Hot Liquid Cheese Spraying From Its Eyesockets

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Welcome back to Camp Crystal La… I mean Park Plaza Mall, the famed destination of crispy youngsters that vacated their beef husks with the cordial assistance of some berserk security robots. This is where KOTH DOLGOMORU’s (not to confused with Koth Dolgomoru) project originates, within the dregs of schlocky 80s horror flicks of which his band’s moniker borrows its name. However, despite the Chopping Mall title, the lyrical content, themes, and imaginative story-telling are anything but related, save the exception of the album’s opening track. In fact, Chopping Mall’s debut, Mauled by a Magical Bear with Scalding Hot Liquid Cheese Spraying from its Eyesockets (MBAMBWSHLCSFIE for short), wrangles with taboo subjects such as scarfing moldy granola, feeding spoiled milk to a grand wizard, and getting plastered in unicorn feces, amongst a litany of other touchy subjects contained within its 21-track gamut. This is likely the dumbest album we’ve discussed in our podcast’s tenure thus far, but unsurprisingly, Connor resonated on a primordial level with every iota of Chopping Mall’s aesthetic. So here we are.

Based out of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the solo deathgrind army that was originally 12 members large dwindled “to one stupid asshole” (KOTH’s words, not mine). It is also alleged that there exist six obscure Chopping Mall records preceding MBAMBWSHLCSFIE that total 223 tracks, but I am suspicious of this claim because who would spend time crafting a fake menu for an imaginary barbecue joint instead of uploading every track to Bandcamp for no one to listen to? Posers, that’s who. Joking aside, Chopping Mall revels in the campiness of the era it is inspired by. This is promulgated, in part, by the lyrics, which were penned in five minutes (or less) for each track. They are cheesy, absurd, and rather doltish, however, there permeates an acute self-awareness that renders would be eye rolls into cheeky smirks. Riffs, while prosaic, are whittled to misshapen spikes; some apply blunt force grindcore trauma and others excoriate with tendon tearing grooves. While I could divulge more detail here, I think I’d be liquefying the substance (read: granola) of our conversation. Without further ado, we sincerely hope you enjoy our exchange over MBAMBWSHLCSFIE. Thank you so much for tuning in.

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You can acquire a physical (CD) or digital copy of MBAMBWSHLCSFIE via Chopping Mall’s Bandcamp page. Be sure to follow the sewer monster on Facebook to stay up-to-date on new developments from his decrepit dwelling.

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