Open share drawer With a concussive sound and a deceptively lean setup, the doom duo returns to terrifying basics on a macabre and strangely exhilarating album about anguish. The doom-metal duo the Body have rarely been only those things. Sure, for the past decade, guitarist Chip King and drummer Lee Buford have practically oozed plangent distortion and martial rhythms, doom criteria as conclusive as any. Glance, though, beneath their hostile surface or inside their loaded rests, where they stuff eerie choirs and corrosive electronics, grinding samples and unnerving jump cuts. This is doom as mutilated by Merzbow, then reassembled into a beast so uncanny it makes Eyehategod sound like modern rock. King and Buford are ardent collaborators, too, as much a symptom of their stylistic catholicism as its cause. Theyâve made albums with belligerent grinders Full of Hell, sludge punks Thou, and shadowy producer the Haxan Cloak, then turned their catalog over to artists like Moor Mother. For King and Buford, the Body is a post-everything permission slip.