Vim Fuego Extreme metal is far harder to penetrate than mainstream musical genres, but there are often gateway albums which open a genre for the innocent novice, before snaring them with something far more potent and addictive.

The gateway into thrash metal is often Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”. Death metal has Death’s “Leprosy”, or perhaps Carcass’ “Heartwork” for the more melodic end of the genre. Even grindcore has Brutal Truth’s “Extreme Conditions Demand Extreme Responses” and Napalm Death’s “Harmony Corruption”.

Pornogrind though, has always been impenetrable to all but the most adventurous or most deviant of fans. Whether it’s the sado-sophistication of Cock and Ball Torture, the brutalized fuck tales of Spasm, or the puke-inducing pornographic barbarity of Necrocannibalistic Vomitorium’s artwork, pornogrind isn’t exactly inviting to the uninitiated.

But now, Porky Vagina has done the music world a great favour and released “Astroschwein”. Yes, the porky Polish pig pervs are back, and they have created an album which combines symphonies of sexual sickness with a plethora of tangential musical styles, while managing to infuse it with an accessibility usually unheard of in any musical genre with the syllable “grind” anywhere in its name.

The album kicks off with “Chlew i Honor”, a song with a revved up Spaghetti Western theme intro, which morphs into some good old gory grind, complete with machine gun programmed drums. There’s some odd carnival-type instrumentation thrown into the mix. And this is what you are going to get for the next 36 minutes. A lot of it doesn’t make a huge lot of sense, but the boys in the band are having a hell of a good time doing it. For example, “Cebulator” featured an interlude from Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King”, and also segues into Soviet era martial theme.

Now, perhaps you enjoy blasting, relentless grind with phlegm-bubbling vocals from bloody start to gory finish. That’s all well and good. This is not the album for you. However, if you think musically Mr. Bungle was a bit fucking lightweight, and Mike Patton could have gargled and pig squealed a bit more, then this will be an aural orgasm.

Pornogrind, and most grindcore subgenres for that matter, are often derided for showing off little to no musical talent, sacrificing skill for brutality. These guys aren’t fucking about any more. Bukkake John, Pig Fucker and Pussy Pomper have some serious musical chops, constructing schizoid songs heavy enough to smash your skull in.

This is not a full-on pornogrind album by the strictest definition of the genre, but most fans of grind, death metal, or even just the extreme end of the bizarre and unusual will find something to latch on to here. It may open up the diseased world of pornogrind to some, or it may send others running for the safety of their Dream Theater collection. There’s only one way to find out. Give it a listen.