To be honest, watching kids grow up from afar is probably more my speed anyway – and it can be a real mind-fuck of an experience! When you’re only seeing your friends’ and families’ kids every few months (let alone years!), you miss all the subtle growth and daily changes that brought them to where they are now. Instead, you just get these big ol’ jumps where they literally become entirely different people every time you see them. Oh they used to like dinosaurs? Well now they like trains. Get ready to hear everything there is to know about the Union Pacific Big Boy articulated 4-8-8-4 locomotive,  the largest and heaviest steam locomotive ever developed. But also be ready to talk about dinosaurs because no one ever gets bored of dinosaurs.

THE POINT IS, it often takes a bit for someone to develop their actual identity – time to experience and try new things, figure out what you really like and don’t actually like at all to figure out what really makes you, you. Case and point, take a look at Scotsman James McBain and his body of work with Hellripper. The project started out in life with the basic identity of, “I’m gonna play guitar really fast and write songs about the devil and evil shit.” And it was fine! McBain has always had a knack for a really good riff, and his ability to write catchy, no-frills club bangers that encouraged crowd participation and interaction has never been in question, to the point that the growth of the “Goat Kvlt” on an international stage was no joke. Tracks like “Full Moon Witchery, “Bastard of Hades,” and the fan favorite “All Hail The Goat” were all good for a quick hit of thrashing, ripping blackened speed metal for the sake of all things \M/METAL\M/. But if I’m being honest, most earlier work was a sort of “here for a good time, not for a long time” affair. A sort of one-trick-pony that was super fun in the moment, but fairly easily moved on from and forgotten about in the long term. A band I’d gladly go see live, but wouldn’t spend a TON of time becoming invested in.

That all started to change with 2023’s Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags. The killer riffs that were always Hellripper‘s trademark were still there, of course, but McBain also started to inject a lot more substance into his music, crafting an overall sound and experience that were uniquely his. First, he really started to embrace his Scottish roots by putting creatures and entities of Scottish folklore and legend front and center in his songwriting (look no further than “The Nuckelavee” and “Mester Stoor Worm” as prime examples), and even included an awesome bagpipe cameo on the album’s title track just to bring the point home (quite literally). But even more noticeably, McBain started to expand his songwriting to become far more dynamic, going beyond the surface-level impact of fast-and-furious quick-hitters and instead offering a fully-fleshed, fully realized listening experience with a lot more lasting power. It was, and still is one of my favorite albums of that year, and indeed of this decade so far, setting quite the bar for McBain to try and match, let alone top.

As usual, I’ve beat around the bush plenty – so I’ll just say it: Coronach is Hellripper‘s finest work yet. McBain hasn’t missed a beat, and instead has set a whole new benchmark for what’s possible with this project. It fucking rips. It’s so good.

True to form, this album wastes no time getting right into action – with “Hunderprest” galloping straight out of hell’s gate with a lightning storm of excellent Blackened Thrash riffs. Where before a good Hellripper riff was, in essence, just that – McBain is continuing to up his game, offering more and more stacked, harmonized riffing for a full, rich sound that keeps you coming back to pick apart more and more layers with every listen. And the insane riffs just keep piling up one after another! In days past, “Hunderprest” would probably come to an end around the 2:30 minute mark after the song’s second reprise. Here and now, we’re met with a distorted, disturbing piano decrescendo, before McBain blasts open yet another blistering, ultra-blackened riff – this time backed by a pummeling blast beat that sounds every bit as chaotic and evil as hell’s seventh layer. This all serves as a bridge into the first of this album’s awe-inspiring solo sections, where McBain puts his full chops on display – the sort of soloing built on having had a steady diet of Kirk Hammet and Dave Mustaine in your musical development. Not that it should have been in any question, but it’s a stark reminder of the level of musicianship we’re actually working with here, even if often overlooked or underappreciated.

What strikes me most about this era of Hellripper is the sense of balance McBain is able to maintain throughout the course of the album. Tracks like “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” prove that, despite some of the maturity and growth that has taken place, the unbridled fun and sadistic joy that has been the core of the Hellripper experience is still alive and well. I’d hate to ever see a version of this band where these kinds of tracks didn’t exist, and McBain seems just as happy as ever to provide them – the latter in particular really just leaning fully into the bit with an anthemic, balls-to-the-walls Black ‘n’ Roll attack that just brings a dumb smile to your face. The former is just a straight-up Thrash heater, complete with a simple, gang vocal’d chorus that will be a huge crowd pleaser, and the kind of Maiden-inspired melodies that can’t help but get under your skin and make you wanna don your battle jacket and throw horns wildly in the air. It’s an instant Hellripper classic sure to be a staple of every live gig moving forward.

On the other end of the spectrum, the midpaced, piano-intro’d “The Art of Resurrection” provides listeners with a welcome change of pace and added depth – dripping with blackened atmosphere and more infectious, anthemic sing-along moments that show McBain really has his audience first and foremost in mind in his songwriting process. Even in it’s blackened drear, there’s an uplifting, almost triumphant air to the song that seems to show McBain flexing his muscles, expressing the sort of confidence needed to rip out yet another of his brilliant solos – this one not so much reaching virtuoso status, but instead showing a level of understanding and restraint for what works with this track, another sign of McBain’s growth as a songwriter. The complexity of this one is carried over into the next, with “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” featuring the kind of turn-on-a-dime time pace changes and collection of riffing and solo work that will leave you dizzied, but certainly impressed. The stretch beginning around the 2:50 mark is one of Hellripper‘s finest, featuring an attack of galloping guitars that practically snapped my neck in three places when I found myself needing to headbang along with demented glee. The track rounds out with an unusually pretty (yes, I said pretty) close with mighty, gorgeous guitars backed by the tweeting of… songbirds? McBain is painting a picture of finding one’s self in the middle of a foggy Scottish wood, and I’m absolutely here for it. It once again points to McBain’s willingness to stretch out the boundaries of what’s possible from the band, finding himself within the project and who he is as a songwriter. It’s brilliant.

This far in, I won’t bog you down any more than I already have to wax poetic about the album’s final two tracks, “Mortercheyn” and title track “Coronach.” Simply put, they’re two of the better tracks McBain has put together through the history of this project – the latter being the sort of Blackened Heavy Metal opus that should grab the attention of every self-respecting Heavy Metal fan on the planet (and we get more bagpipes! Give me all the fucking bagpipes). It’s a brilliant end to a brilliant album that has brought Hellripper‘s game to a whole new depth. I’ve considered myself a fan of this band for a long time (even if from afar), but Cornonach makes me feel like that neglectful godparent who now shows up to gigs and tells everyone in sight about how he knew them as “wee lads” and always knew they were going to blow up into the juggernaut they are today. It’d be an outright lie, but fuck it – the unearned pride I feel for this band’s development is no less real and I’m holding on to it. It’s about time the world get to see what McBain and Hellripper can do, and I hope they take over the goddamn planet.

The thing is, for me and for the similarly-depraved out there who just can’t get enough spit-riddled, blood-and-probably-cum-stained sleaze, this is a good thing. I’d be ripshit if it were anything different. I’d probably riot.

At this stage in Midnight‘s long and, frankly, outrageous career – here’s where we’re at: A new album isn’t really any cause for Midnight mastermind Athenar to start pushing any boundaries. Fact of the matter is, he could even start recycling a riff or two and it’d probably be a minute before anyone really noticed or much cared (I’m by no means accusing him of this, I’m just making a point). True, the man himself did admit that he wasn’t totally feeling the output of Let There be Witchery – and maybe it was the slightly softened edges or even the hint at melody he injected into some of the tracks that put him off, because if you really want to get down to the brass nails here, Hellish Expectations is a decidedly more harsh affair. The Midnight sound has always been catchy and accessible (to a point), but this time around the production offers very little in the way of cushioning. It’s sharp, in-your-face, and lives directly in opposition to every advancement the world has made in the science of audio recording. Hellish Expectations is, at its core, Midnight at its most distilled and basic form.

To that point, “Expect Total Hell” very much rises to the occasion, immediately culling the likes of Venom and Hellhammer with an omnipresent spirit of Motorhead always lingering around the edges – Athenar makes no bones about his intentions with his first tortured, distorted scream, tossing any illusions of a gentler, restrained Midnight right off a cliff as he barrels ahead with signature simplicity – assaulting fans with the typical sort of fast, seething riffs that would fit the bill whether you were at a Black Metal or a Black Flag show, and the Rock n’ Roll as fuck solo just helps to set the tone even further, adding the kind of rock god machismo needed to make for an altogether sleazier, hornier affair. It’s the sort of frenzied, full-assault attack that makes a Midnight show the sensory overload experience that it is, which, is really the only reason for Athenar to keep writing new material, right? It’s all in service to the live show, which is ideally where one should experience Midnight in its full glorious mayhem anyway.

To that end,  I suspect “Masked and Deadly” could, and should become a new crowd favorite in short order, armed with a SUPER catchy guitar lead and possibly autobiographical lyrics that should immediately get stuck in any longtime fan’s brain. The more Rock-forward “Slave of the Blade,” and uber-catchy Motorhead worship of “FOAL (Fuck Off and Live)” also have all the hallmarks of becoming new live favorites, the latter boasting perhaps the most Midnight of all Midnight refrains of all time (I wish I could share the official video here featuring Athenar pretty much constantly flipping double-birds and ditching sticks to play drums directly with his fists, but apparently that’s all just too cool for YouTube to handle).

What has always endeared me to Midnight, and what Hellish Expectations has achieved in spades, is Athenar’s ability to reach out and appeal to the common metalhead. Prime example: a look at the track list may look like your prototypical collection of devil worshipping anthems and general misanthropy – and to be sure, that kind of thing is there for those that seek it – but it actually gets far more clever and, dare I say, wholesome than that. A quick glance and a track like “Deliver Us to Evil” could easily be mistaken as some mindless, throwaway metal trope, but the song is actually about ordering some metal records, sitting at home, and the anticipation of waiting for them to arrive at your doorstep. Like I said, very clever! And wholesome! And a feeling any metalhead, you, me or anyone else is all too familiar with!

That’s just one example Athenar himself has revealed, but it opens you to wonder what other kinds of normal, everyday headbanger shit he’s actually writing about. Is “Dungeon Lust” about finding yourself helplessly attracted to the new, mysterious Tiefling who’s joined your D&D party? Is “Mercyless Slaughtor” about the fictional metal band Merciless Slaughter from the “Mondo Metal” issue of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures comic book series? Probably not! But it’s also not hard to imagine Athenar chilling in his basement reading comics while waiting for his last order of metal albums to arrive. The possibilities are endless! If there’s anything maybe I can convince you of that might change your opinion about Midnight, it’s that Athenar is you, Athenar is me, Athenar is the spirit of every average shmo who just fucking loves Heavy Metal. I think we can all appreciate that.

Athenar seems to have made a really concerted effort to trim any fat that might have been forming to make for a truly authentic Midnight experience, and the result here is another high-quality, no frills event that fits in to the band’s catalog of bangers like a fingerless glove. If this review seems a bit flippant or like I haven’t given it enough effort, it’s not because I don’t think it deserves attention – far from it. There’s just not a whole lot to say here that you probably don’t already know about this band, and talking excessively about it serves no one. So I’ll just leave it at this – Midnight fans, rejoice with me! Hellish Expectations rules. Non-Midnight fans, uh, keep doing your thing, I guess? Athenar is going to keep plowing ahead just fine without you the same as he always has.

On the project’s third full-length, Hellripper‘s sole mastermind James McBain isn’t just putting his best foot forward – he’s leaping ahead into a whole new stratosphere. Warlocks Grim & Weather Hags is a modern Speed Metal master class.

Since 2014, McBain, has built quite a reputation for himself with his Venom and Sabbat-influenced brand of Blackened Speed Metal, not just for his ability to throw down absolutely blistering riffs seemingly at will, but also for being an artist willing to go the extra mile to nurture a growing fan base (known as the “GOAT KULT”) through the difficulties of a global pandemic; granting fans consistent, interactive access on social media and fully embracing the modern demands of being a successful musician (especially notable considering Hellripper exists in a scene not necessarily known for embracing anything modern).

All this is to say, McBain has created a fully-formed Hellripper brand – the sort of which could, very easily, become a breeding ground of endlessly consistent, if not sometimes somewhat uninspired output. Some bands can make this work really well (Midnight, NunSlaughter) but all-too-often, the thrill can peter out and become little more than indiscernible audio content (Arch Enemy, Amon Amarth of late). Even considering myself very much a fan of Hellripper, I sorta assumed that the former was closer to how the project would play out in the long run – especially with 2020’s The Affair of Poisons which, very solid and enjoyable as it was, didn’t exactly push the needle on McBain’s project by any stretch.

A cursory glance is all it takes to notice that things might be a little bit different this time around. Where The Affair of Poisons ran a track list of fairly consistent (and relatively brief) run times, WG&WH is practically a magnum opus, with track lengths regularly exceeding the 5-minute mark, suggesting that McBain is taking more time to flesh these songs out, maybe create a more dynamic listening experience – and it takes no time at all to realize how true that theory is. It’s not often that you hear an album’s first track and say “holy shit this is the best song this band has ever recorded,” and yet “The Nuckelavee” does just that. Beyond the absolutely bonkers-good, incendiary speed metal riffs thrown at your face right out of the gate, McBain is embracing the flip side of his all-out-assault like never before, deploying a heavy dose of Maiden-inspired melody to create a much more balanced attack. The melody he unleashes just before the song’s first brilliant solo is a thing of absolute beauty; a hell-spawned ear worm birthed to infect as many listeners as possible to spread Hellripper‘s unholy agenda.

And when I call McBain’s solos brilliant, there’s not a lick of hyperbole there – his guitar work has always been the X-factor that separated him from other similar acts, and he’s only proving that point further all throughout WG&WH, weaving together a seemingly endless barrage of hand-cramp-inducing blackened speed wizardry. Between the album opener, “The Cursed Carrion Crown” and “Poison Womb (The Curse of the Witch)” alone, you’ve got enough fire power to start blasting away into the earth and make it all the way to Hell’s doorstep itself, with enough ammo left over to start taking some pot shots towards Heaven just for a laugh. But it’s not just the additional melody making a big impact on the album, because McBain is also leaning further into the blackened side of Hellripper‘s sound. Though always a part of their genetic makeup, there are plenty of newfound instances of just straight up Black Metal here – most notable on the midsection of “I, The Deceiver” and particularly through album closer “Mester Stoor Worm,” adding a far more sinister and eerie tone to the mix befitting of the album’s folkloric, demonic leanings.

But the best part of all by far is that, while Hellripper has grown into something to be taken very seriously, McBain hasn’t lost sight of what made the act so popular to begin with – the sadistic fun of it all. There are moments on this record that will absolutely take your breath away, like the brilliant mix of pure Black Metal fury and swaggering Heavy Metal bravado found through the bridge of “Mester Stoor Worm,” or the end of the album’s title track when McBain goes all-in on his Scottish heritage, bringing in bagpipes to beautifully match the guitar melody (this doesn’t need to be an all-the-time thing, but if McBain were to start incorporating bagpipes, tin whistles and bodhrans every once in a while to his music, you’ll get zero complaints from me).

And the Goat Kult’s true nature still perseveres, bringing an evil smile to your face on the incredibly fun “Goat Vomit Nightmare,” which very much sounds in the punkier tradition of Midnight or Gehennah, and “The Hissing Marshes” which is pretty much the Blackened Motorhead worship you’ve come to know and love on Hellripper‘s previous releases. These are far more stright-forward, “get to the point” tracks that pull off the job of maintaining balance on “WG&WH” beautifully, ensuring the album really can be all things for all Kult members new and old. But even the more simplistic overall nature of these tracks show McBain’s improvement as a musician, going the little extra mile to just add even a little more melody and catchiness that just make you want to get in on the fun all the more.

I knew that I was going to enjoy Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags. I did not know that it would blow me away the way that it has. Even if you’re not generally a Speed Metal fan or into it’s more modern resurgence, I plead with you – BEG of you to give this album a chance, because I genuinely think these riffs are so good, the songwriting so solid that they’ll win over even the least interested of metal fans. I genuinely thought the modern Speed Metal movement would have to start losing steam at some point, but between Poland’s Aquilla and their brand of power-forward Speed Metal releasing my favorite album of 2022, and the promise of new music from the likes of Bütcher and others on the heels of what was a pretty damn strong year for the genre, it seems that as long as bands like Hellripper are around, there’s still room for it to not just exist, but completely thrive. At this point, even this early in the year, I can tell you it’s going to be tough knocking this album off the top of my “best of 2023” list. Drink the Goat Kult Kool-Aid and get yourself in on this pronto.

Two years ago, Swedish Wunderkinds Sarcator, led by 15 year old singer and lead guitarist Mateo Tervonen (son of The Crown guitarist Mikko Tervonen), released their first full-length, self-titled record. It was, for a band featuring no members over the age of 21 at the time, a pretty fucking killer record! There was, without question, quite a bit of noticeable influence from ol’ daddy-O in a lot of Meteo’s riffs and song structures. No one was going to accuse it of being the most original record ever, but the sheer energy and exuberance more than made up for the lack or originality or experience. It was a super fun dose of blackened thrash that would have been impressive for a group of musicians of any age and level of experience, but for a group of kids barely old enough to hold a babysitting gig? Pretty mind-blowing.

But now the kids have grown a couple years, and they’ve reached that point where they’ve decided to start forging their own paths, finding their own unique voices, and generally dealing in the kind of experimentation you’d expect from a group of awkward teens… OK, no, not THAT kind of experimentation. Get your head right, you fucking weirdo…

As I mentioned, their previous work certainly followed a very similar Blackened Thrash path to that of The Crown, Nifelheim and others of a similar ilk – and that hasn’t exactly gone away completely, per se – but in that spirit of experimentation has come a very pronounced progressive feel to Alkahest. Where most of the self-titled debut stayed mostly in that 3-4 minute wheelhouse, the track lengths have ballooned significantly this time around, with all but the opening track ranging from between 5 minutes, all the way up to 10. You get the sense that the band is caught somewhere between just throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks, and a genuine desire to put all their talents out there for the world to see, and it predictably makes for some mixed results.

The album starts off a little more how you would have expected, with “Ascend” hitting you straight out the gate with a 3-minute burner that could easily have come off their self-titled debut, save for the much tighter performance put on display this time around. Where their debut featured some of the kinds of imperfections that make earlier Crown albums somehow more endearing and pure, the boys here sound much more crisp and precise. Still, the riffs and blasting drums are blistering, leaving no mistake that these young men are still willing to open the taps and let ‘er rip. It’s on second track “Perdition’s Hand” where you start getting the sense that things are a little different this time around, hitting with a much tamer, perhaps even a touch friendlier-sounding riff and tone that, depending on who you ask, could be interpreted as a band maturing, or maybe looking to appeal to a wider audience. Whichever way you lean, the track is undeniably catchy, able to get your toe tapping, if not necessarily make your neck particularly sore – though when Mateo barks “FIRE!” at around the 4-minute mark, a not-so-subtle nod to uncle Johan Lindstand (The Crown), don’t think for a second it didn’t get my blood pumping a little harder and have me grinning with giddy delight. The more-restrained general vibe continues with third track “Grave Maggot Future,” though replacing the outright energy and fury you may have initially expected from Sarcator, is some really great harmonized guitar work between Tervonen and fellow guitarist Emil Eriksson that most certainly shows the band’s growth.

From here on out is where the band really starts to branch things out and get weird with it. Tonally speaking, “Dreameater” sees the band really trying to cultivate a more unsettling, sinister vibe by slowing things down and taking a bit of a darker approach to the song writing, almost adding a bit of a grungy feel at times that sounds like maybe the band had been on a bit of a Kim Thayil/Soundgarden kick which, if I’m honest, really hits a bit out of left field – especially when followed with a full-on galloping metallic riff and solo. Honestly, if the song had ended there, I might have been more fine with this – but instead it goes on for another 2-3 minutes of more of that kind strange grunge/thrash interplay that doesn’t necessarily add anything to the song. It feels a bit like the song is 7+ minutes long purely for the sake of being 7+ minutes long. The strangeness continues with “The Long Lost,” with the beginning of the sound starting with some acoustic guitars and castanets, giving it a sort of spooky… Tex Mex feel? What follows is another plodding riff that sounds a little bit more Seattle than Sweden. There’s a bit of back-and-forth between the distorted riffs and Western acoustics, which is kind of interesting if not, once again, very unexpected and somewhat jarring, but overall the song would have been fine had it ended after the neat build and solo around 5 minutes in, but then it just sorta… keeps going, with more of the aforementioned acoustics – for another minute and a half or so. I get it guys, you’re trying some new things, and that’s great! Totally down for it. But I also got that point way earlier. Let’s move it along.

I dunno if these dudes were in the middle of a Spaghetti Western marathon or something while writing Alkahest, but we get some more of those vaguely Mexican acoustics on “He Who Comes from the Dark,” which is, to be fair, one of the album’s best tracks. There’s a real nice balance between some of the more high-octane riffing we were expecting from Sarcator, and some of this newfound exploration – and despite it being one of the album’s longest tracks, it has a natural, consistent flow that keeps it from feeling as long as it’s 8 minutes and 14 seconds suggests. Does is need to be that long though? Ehhhhhhhh no. Probably not. The one track, weirdly, that I will excuse the length, is instrumental “Sorrow’s Verse.” THIS is where the band has put their need to noodle around a bit to good use, laying down some genuinely inspired leads, riffs and melodies that feel unencumbered by the need to stick to song structure or format, and thus flow much more freely than the progressions feel on other tracks. In a big way, I wish the band had reserved this track alone to stretch their muscles out, and stuck a little closer to the status quo on the rest of the album.

This is a weird album to try and judge because, speaking from a purely technical standpoint, there’s a lot of really good things these young musicians are putting together. The problem is, there’s just A LOT of it to get through. And at the end of the day, I get it. This is a young group of dudes who are literally still trying to find themselves in the world, figure out who they are not just as musicians, but as, you know, people. In that regard, I wholly appreciate the band’s need to out literally ALL of their ideas out on the table and see what happens. I applaud it, even. What I do hope is that, as the band progresses and continues to mature, that they’ll learn the subtle art of restraint, and be able to focus more on the best elements they create. The future of this band is still bright as ever, even if right now it’s a bit muddled.

I’ve heard plenty of arguments in preference to the band’s earlier albums, and their more recent body of work – and weirdly, both are completely valid. Personally, I adore sadistic, macabre fun of Restless & Dead and Dead, Hot and Ready. I could be on a beach, enjoying a refreshing ‘Gansett Del’s Shandy  (or 8) on a 103 degree Lake Champlain shoreline, and I’d instantly be transported to a graveyard on a foggy Halloween night the minute I press play on either of those albums. They are my shit. But turn to In His Infernal Majesty’s Service or I Am Legion and throw on “The Burning of Salem” or “On Blackened Night”? Absolute thrash bangers to the highest degree.

So I guess what I’m saying is, finding a happy medium would be dope as hell. And dare I say it, Nightside seems to be up to the challenge. Kinda. Maybe.

For one thing, Witchery has upped the camp factor a couple ticks. There’s a song here called “Popecrusher” for the love that all is unholy, so I’d say the band is feeling loose and ready to have some fun. The album starts in a fury with “Witching Hour” taking off like a bat out of hell with the kind of breakneck riffs and… To be totally honest, this isn’t anything you haven’t heard out of Witchery before, but there is a noticeable sense of comfort and familiarity that the band has developed having more or less a consistent lineup over the last three albums – the only difference this time being the replacement of founding bassist Sharlee D’Angelo with the more-than-capable Victor Brandt (Entombed, Firespawn). Vocalist Angus Norder especially seems to have gotten himself nice and cozy, as evident on second track “Don’t Burn The Witch,” where he turns in his most visceral, but most fun performance with the band yet. When he screaming shit like “FUCK THIS FUCKING PLACE!” and “FUCK THIS INQUISITION” and “FUCK (whatever the fuck else it is he’s saying I don’t have a lyrics sheet in front of me),” you can really feel it! He’s an angry man. This is all layered over a super punky riff that definitely brings you back to the band’s earlier work while also calling to mind the greats of Black Metal’s formative years, bringing a sort of morbidly fun energy that’s been lacking from the band over the last few albums.

If it’s the more latter-era Witchery sound you’re here for, they’ve got you covered to that end, for sure. Quick-hit transition “Under the Altar” sets out to pummel you with a series of high-velocity riffs before diving fully into “Churchburner,” a no-nonsense full-throttle burner that lays the hammer down through the first minute-and-a-half before launching into a great little Slayer-esque breakdown that stomps you down into an empty grave just in time for “Crucifix and Candle” to slow things down and use what’s left of your increasingly lifeless body to perform some some Satanic rite. Very efficient. The song has a fun, almost cocky sort of swaggering attitude with swaying, blackened heavy metal riffs that just fills you with all the power and self-confidence of Satan himself. Immediately following is another real highlight in “A Forest of Burning Coffins,” featuring some of the band’s most visceral and inspired riffs I’ve heard in a minute, and featuring some fantastic guest vocals by none other than the great Jeff Walker (Carcass) himself. The front half is a total modern-era Witchery affair, but the back half, including the awesome guitar solo, brings you right back to 1999 with a riff that would fit in just fine on Dead, Hot and Ready.

Nightside isn’t QUITE the perfect blend of old and new that I so badly want out of this band, and there’s a couple odd ducks in here that don’t quite feel like they fit (looking specifically at closer and title track “Nightside”), but overall I am pleased to see a little bit of the fun and macabre get thrown back into the mix. This current lineup appears to still be working some of the kinks out, but Satan willing, the next one is gonna find that perfect balance. But until then, Nightside has plenty going on to give fans new and old something to hold on to and be happy about.

That said, while I understand the whole “lo-fi” aesthetic is kinda meant to be part of the listening experience for this kind of thing – there IS a point where the dedication to making your record intentionally sound shitty just goes a step too far. It’s 2022 after all – there’s folks making music that frankly sounds pretty incredible on a laptop in their bedroom. You almost have to TRY to make your record sound bad which, to me, kinda seems like it’s defeating the purpose. *old man violently shakes fist at the sky*

I know I’ve let other bands guilty of similar production shortfalls off the hook in the past. I admit that. The only reason I bring it up with Nekkromaniac, is that I truly feel that if they’d just met us even half-way on the production of Plague Eater, I’d be about ready to call this thing my album of the year, regardless of what came out in the next 6 months. The riffs, the songwriting, the performances all-around? Absolutely filthy. But because they’ve gone with the travel-amp-inside-a-trashcan-at-the-bottom-of-an-endless-pit sound quality (particularly on the guitars), so much of the incredible work on display here just lacks the punch that I can absolutely imagine it’d land with even base-level recording integrity. IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.

But here’s the thing – I mean it when I say the performances here are A+ material. I absolutely hate the production, but I still friggin’ LOVE Plague Eater. Stylistically, the band reminds me quite a bit of a less-melodic, thrashier Vampire, who are responsible for two of my favorite albums of the five years with 2017’s With Primeval Force and 2020’s Rex. They waste no time getting to the good stuff with a blistering opener in “Plague Eater,” which gets down to business in short order with a doozy of a thrash riff off the top, followed by a tasty two-step and brought home with a nasty double-bass-backed death/thrash riff before the song even gets to the one-minute mark. This band very clearly means business. But it’s just a small teaser for an album that, as it goes on, just seems to get better and more vicious with every track. “Black Death” repeats a similar formula from the first track, but cranks everything up another notch to really get your temples bursting.

“Napalm Funeral” really brings it all together for the band, taking a break from the breakneck paces and hitting you first with some really unsettling, atmospheric guitars and bass that create an eerie setting. Frankly, this is the best the guitars sound all album, before the song launches back into the blackened thrash, and they return right back to the trashcan at the bottom of the pit. Despite this degradation, the riff remains a doozy and, if you stick with it, you’re rewarded with a killer mix of super-aggressive thrash and slowed-down, doomy heft. It’s a similar formula attack they deploy on both “Awaken the Depths” and “Pit and the Pendulum” which really sees the band operating at their peak, providing great balance while still pummeling you right in the race with well-executed, no-frills riffs and impressive, busy drum work.

Listen, I’m not here saying Plague Eater needs to have Periphery or Between the Buried and Me-levels of over-production. I love a really-well produced album, but I know and wholly accept that’s not what a product like this calls for. But recent killer albums from the likes of Demiser, Schizophrenia and other similar Blackened Thrash acts have proven that it doesn’t need to sound like your neighbor’s garage band recorded on an answering machine, either. The problem is that the content on Plague Eater is SO good that I want the absolute best for it. It deserves to sound better than it does. So while I absolutely recommend everyone check Nekkromaniac out for the killer performances they put on this record, I also very much hope they give their next album even just a little more oomph behind the mixer so we can all enjoy that these gents have to offer even more. I don’t think that’s asking too much?

Well, Rotten Blood, by new-to-me St. Louis Blackened Speed/Thrash outfit Bastard, just slammed me. Absolutely obliterated me. I can hear Flair howling in the distance as he drives away.

What we have here is a swaggering, Motorhead and Nifilheim-worshiping, full-throttle barrage of goat-dick-swinging blasphemy. A celebration of all things Satan, Speed and Rock & Roll not unlike my favorite album of last year, Demiser’s Through the Gate Eternal. To even be reminded of that album is enough for me to know that we’ve got another absolute winner here. There’s a sneering, fuck-all attitude throughout this record that I just cannot get enough of, one that can only come from a group of dudes with a blue-collar core, who’ve taken life cues from the likes of Lemmy and Cronos.

As you might suspect, Rotten Blood is all about the riffs, and it comes packing some doozies. After an appropriate double-kick start to “Whipstrike,” and a necessary “OUGH” from vocalist Jason Barron, guitarist Scott Fogelbach (who also plays bass for excellent Blackened Sludge outfit, The Lion’s Daughter) kicks it into gear with a thrashing riff worthy of the song’s title that will grab you by the neck and make you start banging your head involuntarily. Honestly, just let it happen, because it’s gonna take you on a wild ride you do not want to miss out on. You’ll especially want to stick around til the 2:36 mark, where he breaks out the “n’roll” elements over a two-step beat that is every bit as familiar, but nonetheless infectious as it sounds. The excellent solo layered over it is just more icing on this deliciously venomous cake. Similar Rock n’ Roll-tinged thrashers “Protector” and “Rotten Blood” will have you begging to chug some Jack straight out the bottle right before riding your Harley through the living room at your next Heavy Metal house party (*DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE*), and 2022 may have just found it’s official metal theme song in “Under the Tattered Banners (Of Rock-n-Roll)” – an absolute barn burner of an anthem that begs for a good stage-rush to fully get the whole experience.

Accompanying the excellent riffing is a perfectly toned rumbling bass courtesy of Tim Kutterer, providing an excellent backbone and some additional gruff, especially on the more bruising, mid-paced opening stanza, and punishing closing breakdown on “The Possession.” And that bass really shines through beautifully behind the breakneck riffing on “Leather Bound Book of Lies,” really accentuating the downbeats and making the whole thing sound like it’s gurgling up from the fiery pits of hell. Kudos are in order for drummer Jason Asbury (Harkonin, Stormruler) who handles the relentless onslaught with absolute precision and proficiency, expertly laying the perfect foundation for the strings to build on.

If you REALLY want to nitpick, you could make a complaint that Rotten Blood is a little on dimensional in its tempo and tone, but… why would you? You’ve missed the point. It’s clear from the get-go that Bastard are putting a cinderblock on the accelerator, blasting the stereo up to 11, and climbing into the bed of the truck to pollute the world with blistering riffage while their truck barrels through the streets, mowing down everything in its path. Rotten Blood is an unfiltered, unfettered, un-fucked-with slab of gnarly friggin’ metal, and I absolutely adore it. Kataklysm/Ex-Deo/Invictus mastermind Maurizo Iacono, found himself a real gem to help spearhead his new record label.

Indeed, Riley and his bandmates, with their unique signature brand of single-kick-backed Thrash Metal, took the metal world by storm. One band in particular that seemed to take that single-kick-mindedness to heart, was Indiana’s Wraith, who released their own unique side of a similar coin with 2018’s excellent Absolute Power – more punky Motorhead-meets-Midnight than their Texan Counterparts, but played with a similar punchy, high-energy delivery.

Now look, I don’t know the dudes in Wraith on ANY kind of personal level, certainly don’t have enough of any kind of relationship with them to make any assumptions about their intentions – and according to notes from the band, writing for this album started back in 2019, well before Riley’s death. That said, the output on Undo the Chains makes it hard to believe that there wasn’t SOME dedication to the work of the late singer and his band that went into the writing process, because there are a LOT of moments on this record that bring Power Trip immediately to mind. Not in a “oh they’re ripping off Power Trip” way by any stretch of the imagination – there’s just a bunch of excellent riffs and awesome choruses where I find myself thinking “damn, that sounds like it could have come off some unknown, unreleased Power Trip record.” Which, to be clear, is fucking awesome.

Look no further than first single “Cloaked in Black” to hear what I’m on about. From the beautiful, righteous guitar squeals, to the simple, chugging chorus that would inspire entire venues of fans to rush the stage and sing along, to the excellent two-step breakdown and chorus, it all comes together for a track that sounds like it could easily have come off of PT’s Nightmare Logic. You find similar tricks pulled on the super-infectious “Dominator,” “Gatemaster” and album-closer “Terminate,” the latter of which is purpose-built for circle pits and crowd participation. The track’s closing breakdown is only terrible for the fact that it’s such an immense high point, and to have the album end immediately after is just mean and cruel. CRUEL I SAY.

But if it’s more of the band’s Motorhead-eque fuck-all attitude from Absolute Power that you’re looking for – worry not; there’s still plenty of that in spades. “Mistress of the Void” and “Born to Die” both lean much more on that catchy-as-fuck, rock-out punk vibe, along with quick-hitter “Disgusting” which even flirts with a bit of a crust vibe that I really dig. And they continue to throw in a bit of that early blackened edge, found on the more mid-paced “Time Wins” and Venom-inspired “Victims for the Sword,” which, paired with singer/guitarist Matt Sokol’s raspy vocal delivery, both seethe with evil, yet extremely fun intent.

The permanent addition of touring guitarist Jason Shultz seems to have paid off for the band. With the dual guitar attack, the album’s tone does have a more aggressive impact, but his melodic, infectious leads have helped the band maintain their overall good-time-having, party-like atmosphere that makes them such a fun listen and gives them a unique character. Their self-described brand of “No Bullshit Speed and Thrash Metal” has remained intact, while still finding ways to grow their sound and, to these ears anyway, do a damn fine job of filling some of that hole left behind by the loss of Power Trip. Between this, Bewitcher’s Cursed Be Thy Kingdom, and Enforced’s Kill Grid, the current state of American Thrash/Speed Metal is riding a new high that I am all the way here for. Also, shout-out to Redefining Darkness/Seeing Red records continuing to make strong arguments for being the best of the best in the industry right now with yet another excellent signing and release. There’s absolutely zero question when you see either of those names on a release, you’re getting the good stuff. Give this one a spin and let the evil good times roll.

I’ve been an absolute glutton for all these newer bands taking on the traditional sounds of all things heavy, speed and thrash metal. Granted, the amount of quality releases coming out that fit in that general box has hardly been lacking. Of course, with such a huge amount of output, there’s gonna be a pretty hefty amount of duds and “meh” releases, but overall the ratio of good to bad has been really balanced, the scale probably even tipping slightly on the side of good. But certainly, if you indulge in this kind of thing as much as I do, even the good releases can start to blend and all sound alike.

Boston’s Black Mass is here to make sure they never have to worry about falling into that trap. For starters, their take on traditional Thrash and Speed metal doesn’t sound even remotely forced or in-genuine. You could turn on our wireless earbuds, connect to your smartphone, press play on your digital download of Feast at the Forbidden Tree, and I swear if you closed your eyes you’d swear you were back in 1983 listening to this thing on your Sony Walkman DD (cue pre-adolescent giggling).

The power trio achieves this by attacking listeners with a mix of bare bones (yet unoffensive) production, and a sound that mixes the best parts of early Sepultura, Possessed, Razor, and a number of other early thrash/death metal titans, all tied together with Venom’s piss and vinegar attitude, and some occasional unique flourishes that give the band a bit of their own little flair on an increasingly popular genre.

A perfect example is fifth track, “A Path Beyond.” It’s got everything you’re looking for in a product like this, and then some. Start with punky, breakneck riffs, throw in a shameless chorus that calls out to “Hail Satan, Lucifer!” throw in a simple, but very effective two-step bridge to break things up, and round that out with some double-bass-backed blackened death metal riffs for good measure. But before you think you’ve got everything you’re gonna get out of the track, the band throws in a wild curveball in the form of an almost surfy, spaghetti western-like guitar lick that comes out of nowhere, but sounds freaking cool. Then there’s the band’s most ambitious track, “The Speak In Tongues,” which brilliantly takes a page from the book of King Diamond, full of well-crafted leads, a few decent falsetto flourishes, and some great storytelling. Truth told, while I really like the Thrash/Speed attack, I’d love to hear the band further explore this particular weapon in their repertoire.

Back to their bread and butter though, speedsters like “Nothing is Sacred” and “Betrayal” hardly leave you for wanting. Both tracks bring different, unique elements that keep the album from becoming a one-trick pony – the former’s use of breakneck blast beats and machine gun riffs getting your blood pumping and head banging, while the latter blows you away with a blackened thrash attack ala-Venom or Celtic Frost, before stripping things way down with an unnerving guitar interlude that serves as an excellent transition into album closer, “Blood Ritual.” The final track features a little bit of everything in the band’s arsenal, starting with the vicious thrash attack, then breaking things down midway into one of their heaviest,  Death Metal-leaning stretches overlayed with some creepy graveyard-vibe bell accents that set a great scene and will certainly serve to get even the most stoic of metalheads moving in a live setting. It’s a great way to see out the album.

I know, there’s no real shortage of bands similar to Black Mass to feast upon these days (gods know I, myself, have pushed a bunch of them on you in the last year or so) – but if you’re into this kind of thing, you certainly owe it to yourself to check this out and add it to your library. They’ve got just enough elements that help them stand out from the crowd, and in my book, there’s just nothing quite like the distinct sound and energy of a power trio slapping you in the face with this kind of ferocity. An excellent, high-speed thrill ride of a debut for these Bostonians.

It’s finally springtime, friends! While I personally am a very big fan of winter (an not just because it’s the GRIMMEST time of year), I have to admit that after a year of the pandemic, a bastard of an election cycle and all the other bullshit going on in the world, I was ready to add a little spring to my step (pun 100% intentional) and get back to some sunnier days and warmer weather. Just in time to add even more pep to my step comes South Carolina’s own Demiser, and their very first full-length filled with the kind of speedy, upbeat and super energetic Black Thrash that – despite its evil intent – is just too goddamn fun not to add a little light in your life. LETS FRIGGIN’ RAGE.

With a sound caught somewhere between Slayer, Motorhead, Destroyer 666 and Vampire, it’s not likely that anything on Through the Gate Eternal is gonna catch you unprepared for it’s 9 tracks of unrelenting fury. Besides the short intro on the album’s opening, title track, and the 2 minute instrumental interlude “Song of Byleth,” Demiser are keeping the pedal firmly on the floor and plowing through everything caught in their path, and it’s that full-throttle delivery that, to these ears, really puts this thing in the upper-echelon of similar acts. It’s just so punchy – a thoroughly-executed total package that I can’t get enough of. From the outrageous stage names like vocalist (or “Occult Liturgic Blasphemer”) DEMISER THE DEMISER, lead guitarist (“six stringed Satanic Fukklord”) GRAVEPISSER, rhythm guitarist (“abysmal rhythm of death”) PHALOMANCER, bassist (“dismal baritone curator”) DEFILER, and drummer (“purveyor of percussive bile”) INFESTOR – to song titles like “Warfuck Demon Lust,” it’s a no-fucks-given, all-in affair that’s as compelling as it is entertaining.

But lest you worry that all this ridiculousness is meant to distract the listener from a subpar musical quality, save your worries for someone else, because Demiser delivers the goods in spades. Killer guitar work litters the entire album, from the neck-snapping gallops of “Through the Gate Eternal” and “Deathstrike” (the awesome bridge towards the end of the song knocks your socks off) – to the very Slayer-ish “Offering” and more blackened “Unholy Sacrifices,” it’s a nearly non-stop barrage of riffs. The guitars are backed by super busy and impressive drumming that not only manage to keep the blistering pace, but also add in some additional flourishes that add just an extra something to the whole affair, like the sweet little ride hits near the end of “offering” before the band launches into a thrashy two-step bridge. Just an extra touch that helps to elevate a song.

The band also separates itself from the pack by not shying away from a good, albeit occasional dose of melody in the mix. Yes – the album’s goal is primarily to make you bang your head and pummel your senses into the dirt, but there’s some downright infectious and very effective melodies to be found – particularly on the excellent hook found on the Maiden-meets­-In Flames “Hook and Torment” (appropriate). The melodies, along with some of the more “Thrash n’ Roll” elements  offer just enough of a breath of fresh air to help keep from being overwhelmed by the tidal wave of riffs and barreling drums that dominate most of the record, and add a whole lot of catchy fun to the party.

It’s also a very well-produced album. While a lot of examples of this kind of thing opt for a murkier, gutter-aesthetic, the end product here is much more polished and crisp – still with just enough grit to keep anyone from accusing the album of being “over-produced.” It’s a welcome and appropriate choice, fitting of the more Thrash-leaning sound the band is putting together. The result is an album that, to these ears, makes for an easier and more enjoyable listen. Proof that you can still create a fun, raucous, rock-out vibe without sacrificing quality.

I know, I get it, there’s no shortage of this kind of thing out there in the world of metal right now. Despite the flooded field, I do truly think Demiser is an exceptional case, and absolutely worth your time to check out, as Through the Gate Eternal is some of the most fun I’ve had so far in this brief, but thus far very stacked year of metal. Bring on the Hellfire and tear it up, fellas! I’m all-in.