Vegas tunes good for the ears

Guttural death metal, toe-curling funk and some knotty instrumental jams headline the latest roundup of Vegas releases:

THE GENOCIDE ARCHITECT, “The Genocide Architect” EP (myspace.com/thegenocidearchitect): The riffs are so viscous and dense, it’s as if they were siphoned from a tar pit.

The Genocide Architect can let it blast with the best of ’em when the mood strikes, but they’re at their most lethal when settling into a deep, dark groove where the full force of their primal death metal can be felt right in the sternum.

Their tunes have a technical feel to them in places, played with wrist-spraining dexterity, and it’s clear that their chops are well-honed.

But unlike so many bands of this ilk that elevate complexity over songcraft, The Genocide Architect ground all their formidable musicianship in songs as catchy as can be for a group with vocals that sound like Satan ralphing up a lung.

DINNER MUSIC FOR THE GODS, “Blood and Red Wine” (myspace.com/dinnermusicforthegods): We’ve never met these dudes, but we’re pretty sure that guitarists Andy Heilman and Darrin Pappa have space-age robot arms outfitted with steel fingers forged in the fires of Mount Doom.

At least that’s what it sounds like listening to these two shred their digits down to the nubs on hard rock ragers such as “Fighting Hydra” and “99 Octane.”

This instrumental quartet isn’t just about wild-eyed fretboard gymnastics though, brightening “Blood and Red Wine” with Middle Eastern flourishes (“The Devil Himself”), a Spanish flamenco swing (“Tijuana Werewolf”) and jazzy underpinnings (“Smoking Jacket”).

But then again, it wouldn’t be dinner without a variety of courses, right?

GOLDBOOT, “Boot Tease” EP: Their frontman sounds like a Gibbs brother getting drawn and quartered when he gets all worked up, the touches of wah-wah guitar are straight from a ’70s porno flick and the bass lines could limber up a corpse even after rigor mortis has set in.

Funk fetishists GoldBoot come with grooves hard enough to chip concrete here.

When they’re not attempting to conjure puddles of sweat on the dance floor deep enough to breast stroke through (“Won’t Lie Not Cool,” “High Horses”), they’re whispering not-so-sweet nothings into your ear via tawdry come-ons (“Bargains and Steals”).

These Boots were made for knockin’, apparently.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.