In 2018, deathcore feels a bit irrelevant, doesn’t it? All that talk of doom and gloom and corpses and carcasses… it just seems so passe. Well, those days are over. Enter Brojob, pioneers of “homoeroti-core”. It’s exactly how it sounds, so strap yourselves in, and, if you’re a dude who is in any way uncomfortable with your sexuality, prepare to feel awkward.
Brojob have been active since 2015, but until recently their identities had been kept under wraps. Now, it’s been revealed that the brains behind the outfit are duo Andrew Zink (Into Infernus) and Jacob Wallace (Cerebral Harvest), and they’ve just dropped their debut full-length, the boldly named ‘Talk Shit Get Kissed’.
If you hadn’t already established by now, Brojob don’t take themselves all that seriously. The eponymous opener begins with the lines “Show me your dick / You’d better pull it out quick / Don’t make me show you these fists / Don’t be a fucking bitch”. How… novel? The vocals are absolutely monstrous; caustic and guttural, atop thudding malevolent guitars. The whole attitude is very reminiscent of The Hell – the brutality, the (initial) anonymity, the unashamed crassness.
Similar “themes” are explored throughout on crudely titled tracks like ‘Pen Island’ and ‘Erection Injection’. It seems that Brojob are taking a wry, mocking swing at the hypermasculinity that often permeates this scene, and it is pretty funny – or at least, it is the first few times. Lyrics like “You have the perfect heart-shaped ballsack / And I want you to smash it against my forehead” on the sardonic ‘Be My Valentine’ would probably manage to wrangle an immature snigger from even the most serious of metalheads.
That said, there’s only so many dick and ass jokes that you can take on one album before they start to get old, and it does begin to wear. It’s a good thing, then, that there’s more than that here. In fact, the band really start to shine on their slightly more serious tracks.
‘Save Yourself’ features some surprisingly good clean vocals, which soar amongst the customary brees and bleughs before an interesting guitar solo half way through takes the track in an entirely new direction. The trend continues on ‘Hate Is A Disease’, which provides dreamy synths amidst blistering breakdowns, sounding like a 2011 Suicide Silence cut.
Brojob have their tongues placed firmly in cheeks (they’d have a field day with that phrase, I’m sure). Their musical chops and an impressive line-up of guest vocalists (Dickie Allen of Infant Annihilator, and CJ McMahon of Thy Art Is Murder to name but two) could no doubt give them credibility, but that doesn’t seem to be what they’re after. The entire record has an air of two guys who want to have some laughs and aren’t worried about being taken seriously, and, frankly, that might be just what the scene needs.