Guitar Nerd Energy
Chatting with Hunter Petersen (Trichomoniasis, Potion) about the little-known Ophanim
Per Hunter Petersen, the scintillating solo-slaying sicko behind Trichomoniasis, Potion, and Chloroma, a brief brush with another metaller filled a vital role in the young brutalizer's life. "I was also lucky enough to have been introduced to Disgorge freshman year of high school by some kid named Glenn that I hung out with like five times ever (thanks Glenn, wherever you are <3)," Petersen writes in an email.
Was Glenn a Clarence-like angelic figure sent to put Petersen on a path to gross-out greatness? Well, post-Glenn, Petersen has been plying his trade as a brutal death metal and weirdo grind savant. Both Potion and Trichomoniasis have received raves for the way Petersen integrates G3-style shred into bonkers blasting. In particular, Trichomoniasis, a partnership between Petersen and drummer Faustino Rodriguez, set the metal world alight in 2023 with Makeshift Crematoria. "Their death metal is about as brutal and extreme as one can imagine a band becoming, heavy and unrelenting to the point that they basically make Devourment sound like Ratt by comparison," Last Rites's Zach Duvall wrote in a review. "Makeshift Crematoria is like the child of Last Days Of Humanity's Putrefaction in Progress got booted out of Berklee for turning the entire graduating class into acid casualties," I wrote in Stereogum's list of the best metal albums of 2023. Still, the definitive take is probably what Doug Moore wrote about Terminal Inversion, the 2019 EP that set the table for everything that would follow: "Epically crass, sardonic brutal death metal squashed messily into a grind template. Nothing going on here sounds like a rock instrument. Don't image search this band name."
It is, however, worth searching out Petersen's other outfits. Trichomoniasis and its cousins all work towards a specific goal: finding a unique voice. "I like when people come together to create something greater than themselves. I'd love to be able to make something for a live setting that isn't any one person's project but a life of its own." Mission accomplished. Makeshift Crematoria stands alone, an explorer of new, uncharted lands of sickness, forging a path for other death metal degenerates to follow.
Still, while plaudits are applied to a good chunk of Petersen's discography, there's one release yet to receive its flowers: Ophanim's Delphic Moorage, a 2020-released three-song EP that is one of the better entries in a genre that can be described as "deathly melodeath."
Other bands in this yet-to-be-codified field are Intestine Baalism and Sarpanitum. Ophanim, though, has its own special sauce.
"Exalted Rest," Delphic Moorage's opener, contains — or in this case, barely corrals — one of those trademark Petersen guitar passages when he seemingly enters a fugue state and rips a solo that's half Satriani, half Azagthoth. "I think that whole song was written when I was around 17," Petersen remembers. "That solo reminds me of being an annoying teenager, playing a bronze series Warlock in the back of the library's copy/printer room and arranging those songs. The whole EP feels like a relic of my youth."
Ophanim is definitely colored by the chutzpah of youth, when ambition is boundless, and creativity is a byproduct of figuring out how to achieve one's wildest ends.
"The tracks on that Ophanim EP were all written pre-2013, and actually, a lot of the material was written when I was still in high school (pre-2010)," Petersen writes. "My projects have a recurring theme of creating material with the intention of making a live band and then having to finish it on my own due to lack of interest. Those songs are so old now at this point…. I'm a little embarrassed by them, but I felt like I had to at least finish and release that EP. I played the drums one section at a time, like the cymbals first, and then the snare, and then toms and kicks with my fingers [on] my old Yamaha Keyboard. That's why the drums sound so unnatural, but it was that or nothing!"
There's a charm to that unnaturalness, imbuing the music with an infectious immediacy, as if these riffs need to get out of Hunter Petersen's brain right now. For others wanting to follow in Ophanim's footsteps, that could be a hard thing to recapture, like how bands can't replicate a ripping live show energy in the studio. But performance and idiosyncracies aside, Delphic Moorage still provides a fantastic proof of concept for the continued evolution of deathly melodeath, the desperately needed counterprogramming to whatever regular melodeath has currently curdled into. The deep growls, 'chrome balls colliding' riffs, and coruscating solos are all excellent, especially when utilized in service of going hard as hell. And like all good death metal worth its salt and sickness, Ophanim goes haaaaaaaard, belonging to the Legion school of barrel ahead and figure it out later.
That said, it's not like Ophanim is impenetrably weird, at least compared to Petersen's other stops on the road to the end of music. While Delphic Moorage's outsiderness may primarily appeal to people who have burned out on regular metal, there's some exciting material present even for neophytes. That's Delphic Moorage's best trait, really: it doesn't make sacrifices, and it doesn't treat listeners like idiots. That is to say, Ophanim isn't simplified and dressed up to be something it's not in order to cross over and net fairweather fans who can't stand the genuine article. Instead, it's pure and unstepped on. This isn't melodeath so much as it's real deal death metal that's also melodic. There's something thrilling in that proposition, a guilelessness that perhaps can only be accessed in someone's youth. In that way, Ophanim also shines a light on what Petersen was into at the time.
"Growing up in Northern California, I was surrounded by a really unique collection of bands," Petersen recalls. "MySpace was at its peak, and there were so many good bands to discover, like Slaughterbox, Frozen Water Burial, Locust Furnace, (old) BrainDrill, Mummification, Dismal Lapse, Sadistic Hallucinations, Hellusinit, Chained Existence, Journal, etc."
The joy of there being so much metal is that I can't even tell you what half of those bands are. Anyway, (old) BrainDrill channeled into an unholy hybrid that's like Vital Remains playing Dawn is a winning combination. Take the title track, a nearly six-minute bestial batterer. Beginning with a racing section that could give prime Mithras a run, the song then downshifts slightly into a choppy sea of rapid chugs. This continues for the next minute, with Petersen's leads darting in and out like a daredevil swallow. And then, the sky opens up in "Delphic Moorage"'s middle, and a killer solo descends from the heavens. But the respite is brief. Soon enough, we're back to loud-ass guitars, although they've slid ever so slightly toward the askew melodicism of Lykathea Aflame. And during the song's thunderous outro, you might be able to pick out another specific askew sound deep in the mix. "Some of the keyboards are samples from N64 games," Petersen admits. "I love those old MIDI sounds."
That's the Delphic Moorage story, in a sense. Ophanim is a hodgepodge of Petersen's interests that are shaped into something extraordinary by his knack for writing engaging passages no matter the style. And Ophanim has a little extra oompf because of his then-youthful exuberance. To that end, it feels cruel that there are only three songs. So, is there more Ophanim in the trunk?
"There are two unreleased tracks," Petersen answers. "I could make more if there was enough interest to materialize some sort of actual lineup or label interest, but again, that music is so old at this point…. I'd like to do a more sophisticated version of that sound eventually."
While it doesn't repeat Ophanim's formula, Petersen's most recent release is along those lines by rescuing something badass from the past. That would be Embryonic Devourment's Prime Specimens, which uses a cleaned-up practice session and re-tracked guitars to present an alternate dimension where Petersen stayed in the band. No surprise: it's wonderful and wonderfully weird.
Still, you might notice some similarities between Prime Specimens and Petersen's other projects. There's a reason for that. "Often, I'll just make material on a whim and create a band to fit the theme, but I'll chip away at a few different projects at once," he writes. "The original single for Chloroma was intended to be for a very short-lived band that I did with JongHa Jeong, Gregory Kate, and Faustino Rodriguez back in 2012. The material for the Chloroma EP was written between 2014 and 2016 when I was in a band called Embryonic Devourment, and it was originally intended to be my contribution towards a full-length with them. So, sometimes I just have to make an orphanage for my abandoned riffs :(."
Well, the various Home for Petersen's Abandon Riffs orphanages that dot the metal landscape are indeed a charitable godsend, not just for rescuing riffs but giving music nerds a chance to experience Petersen's unique voice. And when asked what connects all of those outfits, Petersen is typically self-effacing. "For the most part, the common ground between my various projects would probably be my lackluster production and goofy snare drums, along with lots of guitar nerd energy." Indeed. Every time a guitar nerd is energized, Glenn gets his wings.
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