This Hostile Existence reviews

The Hartford Advocate By Dan Barry
If bass were a beer, I would be guzzling from the spigot. Oh, wait. Crap. I always forget about Bass ale. You know what I mean, though. I don't care if it's stand-up jazz bass, electric bass, or a snarl from the low end of a synth: I've never subscribed to the school of thought that bass should be felt but not noticed. And while rock purists will argue that guitar is clearly king, I've always felt that bands who put bass in the forefront — from Joy Division right up through Mudvayne — routinely come off as more compelling, more alive, more integrated.
To be more blunt, bands have no problem sticking their sucky guitarist out there for a solo. But a band handing the reins over to a sucky bassist? That's a hand grenade no one jumps on.
It was the incredible bassology of This Hostile Existence that made them stand out this past Saturday, when they supported their labelmates Flu at an obscure Lithuanian Hall in Manchester. Hailing from South Windsor and Manchester, This Hostile Existence is primarily a vehicle for the worship of Pantera and Vision of Disorder — and their homage is, in a word, worthy. It's easy to envision them playing similar hall shows 12 years ago, when both of their source bands were in their prime, and when their audience would have been wearing basketball jerseys and hip-hop gear instead of metal T-shirts.
But it's bassist Denny Stecholz who transformed the band into a collar-grabbing attention-deficit demon. Sliding, plucking, and flinging, he commanded the full range of his five-stringer's massive neck. He was as comfortable bashing one-handed on an open string as he was unleashing detail work high up on the fretboard. And, in a twist I never saw coming, he often integrated chords into his playing — a technique that has been out of vogue in aggressive rock since hardcore's aforementioned heyday in the mid-'90s. Keep an eye out for these guys — hopefully they're heading into the studio soon.