(Pictured: An American male. Obviously)

There’s just no getting around it. I am what I am. And despite the fact that this country is currently making it actively more difficult to enjoy every single one of these mentioned things (and plenty more), I remain steadfast in my pride for so much of what America actually can offer when its not getting duped into handing the keys to the kingdom over to a fake-genius South African billionaire Nazi and his soggy orange puppet (Yes, I know you have eyes on this Elon. No, I cannot begin to care anymore).

One thing America’s always been really goddamn good at? Party metal. And by that I mean the Scissorfights, the Alabama Thunderpussys, the Kyusses and Sasquatches of the world who blend the best parts of Stoner Metal, Punk, Hardcore and straight up Hard Rock sensibilities into a raucous, sludgy concoctions purpose-built with beer, bud and backyard wrestling all on top of mind. It’s like, our thing, man. It’s what we do best.

… but what if it wasn’t?

Raging Speedhorn are not American. In fact, they’re a bunch of friggin’ Brits. And yeah, Teeth of the Diving may well be led by our own Union Jack’d Erik T, but even he abandoned those royal-loving bastards decades ago in favor of that sweet American freedom and liberty (we don’t have to get into how he’s feeling about that decision NOW). This isn’t supposed to be their thing. STAY IN YOUR LANE YA FUCKIN BEANS-FOR-BREAKFAST DWEEBS.

Alas, for over 25 years Raging Speedhorn have been doing their absolute damnedest to earn their honorary red, white and blue cards and, frankly, have been pretty gosh dang successful. Hell, their name is in reference to taking speed and getting raging boners. Add in a screeching eagle and a revving V8 motor and I can’t possibly think of anything much more American than that. Now they release an album called Nightwolf sporting an incredible depiction of Teen Wolf himself shotgunning a beer and, I just don’t know anymore. My fellow patriots need to do something to reset the scales.

It doesn’t help when the album comes barreling in with “Blood Red Sky,” featuring a barrage of catchy, earworm riffs and gruff, no-fucks-given vocals announce their arrival with killer intent. Even more-to-the-point, follow up “Buzz Killer” gets right to the matter-at-hand with some killer Thin Lizzy–inspired guitar licks, crowd-inspiring gang vocals, and one hell of a great, simple breakdown sure to turn any backyard hootenanny into an absolute rager. The fantastic refrain of “DON’T KILL THE BUZZ” is enough to make me grab for another beer long after I’ve had far too many and keep the mayhem churning. Bring on the mud wrestlers.

But this is just the start of the ruckus RSH are bringing to the party. “Every Night’s Alright For Fighting,” a tongue-in-cheek nod to legendary countrymate Elton John, may well end the party anthem of the year, chock full of simple, no-nonsense riffing that forces your heart rate into a frenzy, and again featuring a killer, doomy breakdown that would be just as well served in a junkyard as it would at a proper venue. Maybe even moreso. It’s an absolute doozy that earns your fervor through sheer force of will, and I wish all good luck in trying to resist it’s fuck-all charms. Similarly, the album’s title track “Night Wolf” takes a fucking monster riff straight out of Scissorfight’s wheelhouse and delivers a swaggering, anthemic track that will earn just as many fists in the air as it will across the chins of anyone that happens to piss you off while the track is anywhere in earshot.

And if you think there’s any respite from this absolute dog fight of an album, I urge you to heed caution, because it just does not relent. “DOA” and my personal favorite, “Comin’ in Hard” continue to slam the pedal to the floor with reckless abandon, the latter featuring a sweet little banjo riff mixed in with the guitar assault just to keep things extra fuckin crispy. God forbid you ever find yourself in a West Virginia holler being chased down by a group of 3-toothed hill folk carrying garden tools, but if you ever do find yourself in this unfortunate scenario, I hope you’ve got this track to spur you on away from that hillbilly horde. If that doesn’t give you the motivation to get a move on, I dunno what will.

I know it’s a cop out to say it’s pointless to belabor the point of “Night Wolf,” but I’m pretty sure Raging Speedhorn aren’t looking to a whole lot of explanation or platitudes for their work. They just want you to crack open a beer, rip a bong or a line off the back of some questionable toilet, and get down to fuckin business with this album.  I’m not even ashamed to say this is the most American album so far of 2025, and damned if I won’t use it as fuel to fight off the fuckwits in this country who apparently have no problem letting it become a playground for Vladdy Putin and the billionaire elite. With this album blasting in my ears, I feel just about ready to take on anything.

Like I said, I can be a real shit.

Here’s the thing – while certain aspects of my hesitation are perhaps still somewhat warranted, when I finally wrestled my own ego and elitism back down beneath the surface, what I ended up discovering on Mera Bedövning is an endearingly fun, high energy record with enough twists, turns and variety to make for an incredibly engaging listen. Knogjärn are, it turns out, a refreshingly dang good time.

And when you investigate a little bit further, the quality of Knogjärn starts to make even more sense. For one, the band worked pretty closely with Niclas Engelin (The Halo Effect, Gardenian, In Flames and a billion other amazing projects) on Mera Bedövning, who gets co-writing and co-producing credits on tracks “Aldrig Mer” and “Bedövning.” The rest of the producing credit goes to the highly-acclaimed Oscar Nilsson, who has worked with everyone from The Halo Effect and In Flames, to Avatar, Meadow’s End and Scorpions – point being, the dude knows how to make an album sound huge, and Mera Bedövning is no exception.

Furthermore, what Knogjärn bring to the table makes the marriage of all key players a match made in heaven – an arena-ready blend of influences ranging from Figure Number Five through Sworn to the Great Divide–era Soilwork (so many riffs on have Ola Frenning and Peter Wichers written all over them), a good dose of Melodic Hardcore/Punk energy (more than a few instances bring the likes of Comeback Kid and  Cancer Bat to mind), and there’s certainly a but of the “Nu” thrown into the mix as well, even bordering at times on Rap-Rock territory (though never truly crossing the line). It’s an exciting concoction that kicks like slamming a couple Vodka Red Bulls back-to-back before bungee jumping the Grand Canyon. It’s taking every bit of restraint for my lame-white-mid-30’s-ass not to scream out “YOLO!” I’m sorry.

But truly, this is the kind of music that would find itself very at home on some X-Games hype video or Ken Block (RIP) stunt video. When Knogjärn launches into the inescapably catchy chorus of opener “En Sista Gång” I can practically see Shaun White and Bob Burnquist high-fiving midair on a half pipe while Steve-O does some pogo stick tricks or some shit with his dick out underneath. Obviously flames are also involved. And I also want in on the insanity! It’s a scorching track that starts with some of those Soilwork/Engel-adjacent riffs that pack a really nice punch, setting the table for Kim Eriksson’s unique, energetic vocals to really set the tone. Where he lacks in outright power, he more than makes up for with a really punchy, full-throttle delivery that seem purpose-built for live annihilation. And then there’s follw-up “Bedövning,” which will, I guarantee, be Erick Rowan’s WWE entrance song in short order. It’s inevitable, with it’s big, crunchy choruses- and vaguely rap-rock verses. On paper, this is not a combination I’d normally find myself drawn to, but here I am, bopping along having a hell of a time. It’s just too infectious.

And it’s truly that infectious energy that keeps me coming back to Mera Bedövning. I do not know a lick of Swedish, but that does not stop me from shouting along gleefully with the delightfully rousing choruses of “Inte Mitt Fel” or “Vad Vill Du Ha,” and there’s no language barrier keeping anyone from falling for the heavy, chugging breakdown of “Varje Gång,” or the epic, gang-backed chorus of “Vad du än Behöver” that will no doubt give you that extra boost needed to go that extra rep at the gym (or help you power through that last chicken wing you don’t have room in your belly for – whichever is more your speed, bud). And if it’s energy you’re in need of, look no further than the super punky “Kopplet Runt Min Hals” which not only features one of the albums more fun, upbeat riffs (save for the quick-hitting album closer, “Snabbhatskedja”) – but also beats you down to the ground with the album’s heaviest, angriest breakdown.

The secret to Mera Bedövning‘s success lies in it’s simplicity – Knogjärn aren’t here to turn the world of metal and rock on it’s heads, they’re here to get in, hit you with a fantastic flurry of high-energy bangers and a few hefty haymakers, and get out before you have time to grow tired of it. I suppose I can understand if this isn’t an album for everyone – but for those of you fortunate enough to have Knogjärn‘s blows connect, I can tell you you’re in for a hell of a good time. I couldn’t be happier to have my own dumb preconceptions proven wrong. Again.

But while the French have made great strides recently in representing the genre, their Canadian cousins across the pond have been carrying the torch for some time now, and one of the finest examples from Quebec over the last dozen years has been the excellent Cauchemar, and their latest effort is perhaps their finest yet.

For those new to these Canucks, they’ve built their reputation on a foundation of classic Doom-based Heavy metal that brings to mind the likes of Pagan Altar or Cirith Ungol, or a more contemporary counterpart like Smoulder, but delivered with those infectious French-spoken vocals that continue to prove to be a perfect companion for this kind of product. For those who’ve been with the band for a while, this album showcases a tiny switch-up in the dynamics, adding a little more space to their sound, giving the songs a feel as if they were being played in a rural country tavern by torchlight. “Notre-Dame-sous-Terre,” “the epic “Rosa Mystica” and moments in “La Sorcière” are excellent examples, the first really slowing everything down and settling in to that dank, musty classic Doom vibe best served by the glow of candlelight in a room filled with skulls and spider webs. The organ hits provided by singer Annick Giroux really help to set the scene and provide a creepy backdrop for the band to build what I assume must either be some sort of demonic summoning or sacrificial rite. I don’t speak French so I can’t really be sure which it is, but Giroux’s impassioned, somewhat tortured vocals suggest at some possible interdimensional madness settling in under the surface, like maybe she’s summoned some malevolent deity one time too many.

But where those tracks certainly walk on the darker side of Cauchemar’s sound, others bring a much more triumphant tone to the mix. “Rouge Sang” is a driving, upbeat banger that starts off at a much rowdier pace than you’d necessarily expect from the band, bringing a bevy of NWOBHM influences into the fray, before ending on a more familiar Doomy dirge. “Le Tombeau de L’aube” even brings in a little double-bass action to briefly help kick the revs up a notch. While these songs are fun and I do appreciate the band changing up the pace to avoid stagnation, I’m not sure this is necessarily the band’s most comfortable wheelhouse. They’re really at their strongest when they let the music breathe a bit to create some real atmosphere and depth, especially when those aforementioned organs get into the mix.

Rosa Mystica really shines because the band seems to have hit its stride and found a formula that works best for them. They create a tone and sound played with the kind of confidence that, despite the fact that I have no idea what they’re singing about, I’m still left with very vivid (if morose) pictures in my head as the album plays on. The sounds here are as familiar as they are enticing, and Cauchemar continues to grow into a super solid little traditional doom outfit, and Rosa Mystica is yet another really solid release from Temple of Mystery records, who keep building a nice resume for themselves.

Of course, some bands do the theme better than others, and one of the best in recent memory has been, without question, Ukraine’s 1914. Since 2015, the band has been putting on an absolute masterclass in how to create mood and atmosphere with their music, pairing it with some truly punishing Blackened Death/Doom to create a sonic experience that can be both emotionally draining, and utterly exhilarating. Of course, the band’s focus on arguably the bleakest and most brutal of wars (World War I) certainly lends a hand to heightening the entire experience, but the band’s ability to transport you to some bullet-ridden, blood puddled, diseased and rotten trench on a burnt-out battlefield in France or Germany is, in my humble opinion, second to none.

With Where Fear and Weapons Meet, the band certainly left themselves with quite an act to follow – 2019’s “The Blink Leading the Blind” was a culmination of everything the band had built to that point, delivered with pinpoint precision and absolutely brutal efficiency. The band deployed every weapon at their disposal, including a real talent for being able to integrate samples and wartime sound bites and effects into their music to elevate the experience without becoming a distraction.  The best example I can give, for those of you who aren’t already familiar with the band, is the opening buildup from the track “The Hundred Days Offensive” which beautifully uses a scene from the 1930 film All Quiet on the Western Front to set the bleak, hopeless stage, before the band launches into one of their best songs to date. Absolutely gut-wrenching. So with such big combat boots to fill, it’d be understandable if the follow-up slightly missed the mark, right?

Well, one thing is for sure – 1914 has decided to up the “epic” factor, namely in the strategically placed use of deep, grandiose orchestrations to accompany the music. After the band reintroduces themselves with “War In” (a tradition they’ve held along with closing track, “War Out,” on both of their previous LPs), they break out the heavy artillery with first proper track, “FN .380 ACP#19074” (I will laugh very hard if I ever hear vocalist Ditmar Kumarberg introduce that song title live) – coming right out the gate with those beautiful, cinema-esque orchestrations over a full-on blitzkrieg attack of guitars and blasting drums that hit with the force of a 10 megaton bomb. It’s a super-aggressive start for the band, even featuring some punky D-Beat drumming and riffing that I certainly did not see coming upon first listen, but certainly goes a long way towards solidifying the all-out-attack tone of the track. The band brings the orchestrations back again on 4^th track, “Pillars of Fire (The Battle of Messines) – setting a super ominous tone over yet another breakneck track that seems to eschew some of the more doom-leaning aspects of their prior work in favor of unrelenting speed and power… that is until about midway through, where the band breaks things down into their first proper, heavy, doomy stretch that seethes with mud and blood and guts. It’s short lived, however – as the band shifts back into full throttle and continues it’s deafening assault.

By the time we get through “Don’t Treat on Me (Harlem Hellfighters),” I’m finding myself a little overwhelmed by the onslaught. There’s been a concerted effort at this point towards all-out aggression, and though well-performed, I’m finding myself wanting for some of the more doomy dreariness that made their prior work so compelling. But it’s there that the band takes a clever turn. “Coward” is a haunting acoustic folk song featuring a banjo, harmonica, and clean vocals telling the story of some poor sap caught in the middle of an impossibly terrifying situation, and choosing flight over fight. It’s a total mood-changer, turning the tide of this war back into a much darker direction. “… And a Cross Now Marks His Place,” the band’s first single from this album – ranks among the band’s finest – is written from the point of view of an officer writing to a fallen soldier’s family to inform them of their death, blown to goddamn oblivion by an enemy artillery shell. The band really puts their experience to use to once again expertly craft just the right tones and paces through the song, echoing the somber occasion of the song’s subject, while also reflecting the absolute chaos of a world exploding with relentless enemy shells. The Legendary Nick Holmes lends his vocal talents to the track, just giving it even more to stand on. Follow-up, “Corps d’Autos-Canons-Mitirailleauses (A.C.M.)” really pulls out all the classes 1914 tricks – starting with a jaunty, old-time track of military bugles, before lumbering into the album’s doomiest, most plodding sections yet, layered with a subtle use of those newfound orchestrations that really set a gloomy atmosphere. Halfway through, the band launches back into another burst of blasting drums and furious guitars, before closing the band finally punches you in the mouth with a crushing, doomy breakdown that pounds you to dust beneath its immense heft.

After the band picks up the pace again on “Mit Gott für König und Vaterland,” proper closing track “The Green Fields of France” really brings things to a cataclysmic end, layered thick with piercing screams, cannon blasts and tortured bagpipe accents that paint a horrifying picture of all-consuming warfare that ends poorly for everyone involved. It’s a fitting way so see out what is, in the end, another thrill ride through a bombed-out hellscape of war. That said, in many ways, Where Fear and Weapons Meet is certainly a much more straightforward offering than The Blind Leading the Blind. It doesn’t quite have the emotional depth of agony and despair that its predecessor captured, and instead relies on more of an all-out barrage of senses-smashing chaos. That’s by no means a terrible thing, but in an album as long as this is, a little more variety to break away from the blitzkrieg would be nice. However, this is a beautifully produced album, that still paints as vivid a picture for its listener as anyone in the game. I had some lofty-as-fuck expectations for this one – probably unreasonably so – and while I’m walking away with a few criticisms, I’m still walking away loving this thing. All-in-all, I think that’s a job pretty friggin well done by these gents.

It’s long been a dream of mine to host a big, haunted house for the neighborhood, but I want to get it right. My wife and I have owned a home for 4 years now, and we’re still planning the damn thing. An underrated part of that planning – is finding just the right soundtrack to serve as the perfect, unnerving backdrop. Set the scene and all that. I think I may have just found part of that equation here.

Italy’s Fulci, named after the legendary Italian horror director and godfather of gore Lucio Fulci (Zombi 2, City of the Living Dead, The House by the Cemetery), is an absolute treat for any fans of all things Death Metal and 70s/80s horror. Despite its 10 tracks, I’m more inclined to call this 2 EPs, or maybe even a split? Essentially, the album is divided evenly between the band’s brand of killer, punchy Obituary-meets-Bolt Thrower Death metal, and 5 tracks of synthesized Soundtrack that the band has co-created with the mysterious entity TV-CRIMES, who the band say wishes to remain anonymous… For now. SPOOKY!

It really is a dead split, too. While the opening track “Autopsy” is a Fulci/TV-Crimes Soundtrack, with audio samples (I assume, taken from a movie) of a doctor performing an autopsy, the next five tracks are a nonstop barrage of Death Metal. After that, 4 Soundtracks inspired heavily (and very much authentically) by some of the best in the business – Fabio Frizzi, John Carpenter, you could absolutely tell me these tracks were lifted from some obscure foreign zombie flick, and I’d have no reason to doubt you. A nostalgic hit of creepy, unsettling, mostly-synth driven cinemascape that DOES feature a few guitar and drum elements on “Child,” “Fantasma,” and “Cemetery.”  Whether that’s the extent of the band’s involvement in creating these tracks, or if they had more influence on the arrangements, I can’t say. But they’re neat – and would 100% work like a charm in my eventually-to-be Halloween haunted house.

As for the actual metal half of the album, there’s a whole lot to like here. “Voices” starts off with some great Bolt Thrower rumbling backed by super guttural, evil vocals, before the band switches gears and hits with a quicker, early-Cannibal Corpse attack. It’s nothing overtly complicated or world-changing, but it’s got some great energy very much encourages you to rage along. We also get a little more subtle interplay between the band and TV-CRIMES, with a little bit of dramatic synth over some of the song’s slower, doomier moments. “Nightmare” follows up with some more early Cannibal Corpse/Six Feet Under groove that just pummels and pummels until you’re beaten thoroughly into the ground. Lest you think some relief is nearby, the appropriately titled “Evil” continues the consistent, brutal assault. By the time “Funeral” comes around with it’s more moderately-paced, Death-Doomy gait – you’d be forgiven for looking forward to the subtle change in intensity, despite it’s darker, gloomier mood. “Tomb,” my favorite track on the album, picks up the pace again, particularly around the 1:30 mark where the band launches into a great, chugging riff over a steady, relentless blast beat that are a classic match made in hell. It’s a great way to close out the metal half of the record.

If I had to find a gripe here – I’m not so sure why the band made the decision to make such a distinct line in the sand between the two halves of the album. As I alluded to earlier, the layout has a little bit of an identity problem. If they’d presented it as a straight-up split, maybe I’d feel different. But as it is, it feels like the sountracks could have been sandwiched between the songs to  further set the scene and break up the album a little bit. That said, it’s certainly not stopping me from having a lot of fun with this. The artwork is absolutely incredible, to tone and mood of the album and its theme is well set, and the songs offer a simple, effective brand of death metal that never goes out of style. A really fun, interesting release worth your time and effort. Now if you excuse me, I have an elaborate guillotine scene to plan out for my haunted house. I think “Glass” will go quite well with it…

Yet fast forward twenty plus years and here we are today, in a time where the masses don’t buy or consume music like they once did, and the regular practice of bands releasing an album every year or two just isn’t the usual norm nowadays. A time where people’s attention span is shortened and damn near frantic or erratic. A time when people literally shuffle from one song and band to another continously on whatever “device” they’re carrying; never fully delving into an album proper and letting it envelope and consume you. Thusly, because of this, even the biggest bands have felt the pinch that modern tech habits have put on them, and the need to stay relevant and in the sight and mind of listeners may just be more important now more than ever.

So where does all of that put the EP format? Well, pretty much in the prime spotlight. Whether physical ot digital, the EP is now the perfect tool for helping to keep relevant amongst the myriad of bands and releases that almost plague us, the shortened attention spanned buying audience.

Seriously though, EP’s seem to be released far more often than ever before, with much of the material therein being more serious, focused, and not containing that left-over feeling from a previous album session that a lot of EP material use to suffer from. Yes friends, the EP has come a long way in the last twelve to twenty years and has definitely been successful for that stop gap period that artists take, or are forced to take. Anyways, I really didn’t set out to discuss the worth of the EP format in today’s metal scene. Seriously, I didn’t, but just like the comments on my elementary school report cards always said, “Kristofor is a good student, but talks too much in class”…oh well, some things never change. C’est la vie.

Lets get to the nitty gritty though, shall we?

Those loveable intergalactic space lords, Gwar, are back with their first release since 2017’s The Blood of Gods full-length, barring the 30^th anniversary re-release of the seminal Scumdogs of the Universe album, with the short, four song release The Disc With No Name. Is it worth it? Honestly, no and yes. I know, I know, what a weak ass cop out assesment, right. Well lets put it this way. If you’re only an occasional fan of Gwar, the kind that would rather hang out in the safety of the back at one of their shows as opposed to taking part in the gushings of blood and guts in the front row, then The Disc With No Name is nothing that will tickle your tits. Though if you’re a diehard with a hugely oversized alien slug like appendage in your nether regions, or you wish you had one, then the new EP will for sure be something you will want to check out. Whether  you deem it good, bad, or just fodder will be entirely upon you, but diehard or not I think that it deserves a bit of your time. Hell, I went from thinking this EP was a total waste to ultimately digging the shit out of it once I gave it some unbiased attention.

Damn, look at how much of your time I’ve wasted so far, and continue to waste,  and I haven’t even said one real thing about The Disc With No Name. Fuck me, right?!? Well there isn’t really too much to say about said EP. I casually mentioned way back there that it was only four songs, yet what I didn’t tell you was that every one of the tracks are re-recorded unplugged versions of previously released material. Two tracks from the Oderus-less The Blood of Gods, “Fuck This Place” and “I’ll Be Your Monster”; one track from Carnival of Chaos, “Gonna Kill You; and “The Road Behind” from the classic, America Must Be Destroyed.

Three tracks in just under fourteen minutes with 75% of the product being a success. Now I’m no math scientist, but I do believe that puts one track as being a stinker, but I’ll get to that in just a bit, might as well start with the good. Kicking things out on this EP is “Fuck This Place”, which was a pretty fun and ass kicking little number in its original state, and you would think that doing an acoustic, drum-less rendition of the song would cause it to lose its command and/or power, but it actually has quite the opposite effect. While the track has been shaved down by about two minutes and has a slower and less aggressive gait to it, the track actually omits more emotion and even an epicness to it that the original never really had. The melody of the track and the arrangement really work much better in this unplugged format if I do say so myself.

“Gonna Kill You” rolls in next and is simply brilliant. The song stays true to its original version as far as arrangement goes, but the vocal performance of Blothar actually tops what Oderus originally laid down, while the added vocal harmonizing and the banjo incorporation is the icing on the cake. The song has a more professional quality rather than the comical take within the original but the humor is defintely not lost. Kind of like what Anthrax did with “N.F.B. (Dallabnikufesin)”. Moving right along we have “I’ll Be Your Monster”. The original was a pretty good track that was a rythym and blues based hard rocker, you know, the kind of stuff Gwar has done for ages. This newer version doesn’t really add anything new to the original or anythng that deems it superior, but I will say that it works marvelously in this unplugged presentation.

Now the stinker. “The Road Behind”…what can I say. To us heavy duty Gwar fans, “The Road Behind” is a bonafide classic and as far as I’m concerned should never be fucked with. Even by the band themselves. Now the re-recording here doesn’t actually suck per se, but it’s just unneeded and honestly, unwanted. The only thing I thought was quite good in it was when the banjo pops up at the 4:03 mark accompanying the last chorus of the track, otherwise, no thank you. I’ll take the original over this any day of the week.

And there you have it folks. One of the longest and needlessly rambling reviews for one of the shortest releases this year. Like I stated earlier, whether you deem this good, bad, or bullshit is your call. Regardless, I think it’s pretty enjoyable all the same, especially if you’re a Gwar die-hard. Hopefully this review is somewhat as enjoyable, or bullshit, either way it’s still your call.

Oh, but I suppose there’s something to be said about putting yourself out there and giving it the full beans, about not holding back and trying to out-do yourself time and time again. If we hadn’t done that as a species, we’d all still be sitting in caves sustaining ourselves on, like, bugs and bat shit. Doesn’t sound ideal. So to all those out there reflecting on their accomplishments and saying, “I can do better,” I salute you, I guess. To that end, I guess I owe Staten Island Death Metal fiends Tombstoner the full 21 gun shebang – because on “Victims of Vile Torture,” they’ve levelled the hell up.

I don’t make that statement lightly – because I friggin’ LOVE last year’s debut EP, “Descent to Madness,” a unique and absolutely killer mix of Old School Death Metal and classic NY Hardcore that hits all the right notes for me, to the point that I wasn’t really sure how the band might top themselves. They honestly could have just said “fuck it” and done more of the same with their debut full-length, and I’d have been tickled pink. But while the Pandemic may have put the band’s touring and support of their debut EP on hold, it seems they used the down time wisely – building on the sound that made me fall in love with them and putting together a complete package of an album that should put them well on everyone’s radar if they haven’t already.

One thing you’ll notice this time around is that the band has taken a bit more of a subtle approach with their hardcore influences. Where songs like “M.Y.F.B.” and the killer breakdown of “Tombstoner” slammed you in the face with it, the influence is felt more in the band’s attitude and overall delivery on Victims of Vile Torture, most notably with Bassist/Vocalist Thomas Megill’s barking fury that counters so nicely with Jesse Quinones’ more traditional Death Metal bellowing. And as heavy as this album is, it still carries a mostly upbeat approach that keeps the energy level up and gets you moving as well any Sick of it All or Leeway record would. Look no further than the fucking excellent “Sledgehammer” or thrashy “Frozen in Fear” if you’re in need of a little kick in the ass to get the blood pumping, the latter boasting the kind of build up and bone-snapping breakdown that is dying for a big ol’ circle pit. Like, the kind you see and genuinely start worrying for people’s safety. It’s one of the band’s strongest tracks to date.

Where the hardcore-leaning aspects of their prior work have taken a little bit more of a back seat, a more generous portion of vicious death metal shines through, and not without taking a few risks and adding new elements to their arsenal. “Armageddon,” an ultra-heavy, bleak bruiser drags you down to the ground and pummels with an oppressive attack of pounding drums and hefty guitars, before settling down into a period of unsettling clean guitars, and launching into a really cool, and very much unexpected violin-led bridge that builds up into a furious crescendo that leaves you a little breathless and wondering just what the fuck happened. It’s a totally new element for the band I’d be more than happy to have appear again every now and then. I’m also loving the album’s final track, “Trepidation,” with it’s more evil, plodding approach over the first half of the song, before putting the pedal to the floor and rounding out the album in an absolutely epic fury – relentless blasts, some really busy and catchy guitar work, and another solid layer of those newfound orchestrations that again add a really nice touch without being overbearing or becoming a crutch. These are not elements I’d ever have expected to show up on a Tombstoner track, but the gamble has paid off.

There are a few “safer” tracks here like “Breaking Point” and “Grave Dancer.” Don’t mistake that as any kind of diss on these tracks – I just mean they’re closer to what I kinda expected for the band’s first full length. Descent to Darkness worked so damn well that I am genuinely – and as it turns out – pleasantly  surprised that the band chose to add so much so soon on this one.  So I guess, maybe, there might be something to this whole “try a little harder” thing – though now I’m just setting even higher, probably unattainable expectations for Tombstoner’s future. See? Double edged sword! But for now I’ll just take what I’m getting here with Victims of Vile Torture. Absolutely filthy.

So when Germany’s Vulture hit the scene in 2017 with their debut The Guillotine, it probably should have come as no surprise that they came packing all the FUCKIN’ METAL you could possibly handle into their brand of retro-Speed n’ Thrash goodness – so much so that Metal Blade records wasted little time to add them to their roster for follow-up Ghastly Waves & Battered Graves, an album that saw the band honing their skills just a little bit more finely, and served to seal the band’s place in the upper echelon of this modern wave of traditional Thrash metal.

So you’re probably not expecting any big upheaval to the general Vulture formula for album number 3, right? You’re probably thinking you already have your opinion of this band and this brand of metal in general, and there’s probably nothing on this record that will change it one way or another, right? WELL GUESS WHAT, BUCK-O!

… You’re probably right.

But that’s not to say Dealin’ Death is just a copy-and-paste effort. While the classic Teutonic Thrash influences with healthy doses of Annihilator and Overkill are still on display, there’s undoubtedly a little bit more of a Traditional Heavy Metal-leaning flavor this time around, often giving off VERY King Diamond-like vibes, particularly on more mid-paced tracks like “Gorgon” and “Star-Crossed City,” and ESPECIALLY on “Below the Mausoleum,” which would sound right at home on Them or The Spider’s Lullabye. While generally I’m not a huge fan of saying a band sounds “more mature,” the stylistic approach does pull off that effect, helping to change the pace of their otherwise all-out assault and give them a little more depth, and it’s done so without taking away any of the band’s character.

But at the end of the day, the band’s focus is still centered on fast and furious riffs. “Malicious Souls” and “Flee the Phantom” show guitarists Mattes Outlaw and Stefan Castevet sharp as ever, keeping a blitzkrieg pace and trading off some really nice solo work that shows the depth of talent these guys are working with. Check the lead on the aforementioned “Below the Mausoleum” – it’s catchy as all get-out, and preludes one of the album’s better solo sections. Once again, credit is certainly due as well to the solid-as-steel rhythm duo of Andreas (Irön Kommander) Axtinctör and Gereon (Deceiver) Nikolay for laying down some great performances here – providing a fantastic backbone for the guitars and singer Leo Steeler’s trademark snarling vocals and falsetto screams to build upon. Speaking of which, I’m digging the slight uptick here on the album’s use of crowd-pleasing gang vocals, which will surely add even more to the band’s live performances (I’ve never seen them, but it seems like they’d be a blast). It doesn’t take very long at all before you find yourself singing along with “The Court of Caligula,” and the album’s title track, both of which are sure to become fan favorites in short order.

I’m finding myself compelled to just shut up at this point because really, any further analysis would just be an excuse to hear myself talk for a while longer (and nobody really needs that). If you were digging what Vulture were bringing to the table before – HUZZAH! You’re certainly gonna dig this. They’re still METAL AS FUCK, they’re still a ton of fun, and they’re still one of the most solid acts you’ll find in the genre.

In short, that’s basically what you’re getting from Morbid Breath’s new EP In the Hand of The Reaper. Simple, effective, thrashy Death Metal riffs and super fuzzy bass backbone, over simple, solid rhythms, and some raspy, growly vocals. Classic Swedish Death Metal 101.

If this all seems like a complaint or criticism, I assure you it is not. As our friend J Mays recently quoted, “competent, well played Death Metal never goes out of style.” Indeed! Despite only having 5 tracks on display, there’s still plenty of fun, memorable riffs here to make even the more discerning of metal fans bang their head and bring a little smile to their faces. After a fairly straightforward but fun first half of opening track “Ancient Beast,” the band launches into a neat thrashy bridge backed by that super buzzy bass tone that stands as the band’s defining character, before breaking out some sweet, swing-y Death n’ Roll soloing that sounds just as good now as it ever did in the early 90s. The whole package is a nice middle ground between Kill ‘Em All Metallica riffs and Wolverine Blues–era Entombed rumble, the comparison becoming even more clear on second track “Beneath The Graves,” with it’s more mid-paced “Seek and Destroy”-like gait delivered with a dirtier, HM-2-flavored goodness.

Some of the band’s thrashier elements make themselves better known on the back half of the EP, with “Hellbringer” and “In The Hand of The Reaper” kicking the speed up a notch and leaning more into Vader/Kreator Eurothrash vibes, the last minute or so of the former being on of the strongest standout stretches on the album. Some simple, but very effective hardcore-influenced drums rumble beneath harmonized, chugging riffs before going into another solid solo and returning back to the song’s original thrash attack. Nothing earth-shattering, but well done and thoroughly enjoyable. The band rounds out the album following the same basic formula on the title track, providing a solid exit.

Admittedly, this EP probably benefits from being just that – a few more songs and this thing might have grown a little stale and repetitive. As it is, it’s a fun, dependable little foray into some classic sounds that are always welcome to these ears. Beyond that, the band has also created a super appealing classic occult aesthetic for itself (tell me that album cover isn’t a thing of beauty) that, in and of itself, will draw a lot of eyeballs and get people to pay attention. I hope by the time these dudes gets around to recording a full-length, they’ve sprinkled in a little more depth to their sound to avoid becoming too predictable over the long haul, but I’m confident they’ve got the creative chops to make a name for themselves.

Which is a goddamn shame for me, ain’t it?! Between guitarist Jeff Loomis getting himself trapped and buried somewhere inside the Michael Amott/Arch Enemy audio content factory, and drummer Van Williams out there just doing his thing, the improbability of Nevermore returning to make more music is overwhelming – and that’s before the memory of Warrel Dane’s untimely death rears itself from the dark recesses of my mind and renders the whole idea moot anyway.

By now you’ve probably stopped and thought to yourself, “wait, this isn’t a Nevermore review what the hell?” and, because I know you all are so clever, know where I’m going with all of this.

A couple years ago Oregon’s Silver Talon came out with Becoming a Demon, a super solid, neoclassical-tinged Power Metal album that certainly put plenty of talent and potential on display. One thing that stood out to me – was how much singer Wyatt Howell, at times, really sounded more than a little bit like Warrel Dane. The album even featured a guest solo by, you guessed it, the incomparable Jeff Loomis. It certainly seemed that these dudes held their legendary Pacific Northwest brethren in high regard. Then last year, the band released a brand new single called “Deceiver, I am” and things were a little bit different, and yet very much familiar… The riffs, the vocal patterns and stylings, the mix of beautiful melody and crushing heft, hell – even the song’s title itself – it all felt very, VERY Nevermore-ish. And sure enough, it turns out their new LP Decadence and Decay, might just be the replacement I’ve needed to scratch that itch.

Decadence and Decay isn’t outright thievery or a carbon copy of Nevermore’s work by any stretch – I don’t think there can truly be a replication of Jeff Loomis or Warrel Dane – but the influence and admiration is certainly here and proudly on display, mixed with some of the sounds established on “Becoming a Demon.” But from opening track, the aforementioned “Deceiver, I am” to closer “Touching the Void,” there’s countless moments that will make you double-take and bring back fond memories of everything that made Dead Heart in a Dead World and This Godless Endeavor absolute classics.

The first thing that really stands out here is indeed Wyatt Howell’s vocals – understandable given how much emphasis he seems to have out into paying homage to Warrel Dane’s distinct stylings – everything from tone to vocal patterns, to how he uses his voice to interplay with the rest of the band is really spot on, while still finding moments to also inject some Halford-esque falsettos and throaty growls into the mix. While the first two tracks of the albums are both fantastic in their own right, third track “As the World Burns” is where the whole band really pulls it all together. Howell layers some really haunting, melodic lines over angular, chugging guitars and a really effective, minimal synth background that gives everything a very kind of spacious and eerie feeling, all before launching into one of the band’s signature powerful, earworm hooks that really grab your attention with the vocals again leading the way. You can find some more Dane-isms on follow-up “Next To The Sun,” with Howell channeling some of the former’s tortured, strained crooning throughout the track that hooks itself under your skin with an unsettling, but altogether compelling attack the sticks with you. His best performance comes on final track “Touch The Void,” doing a fantastic job of switching back and forth between those almost apparitional melodies, and his more commanding bellow, but during the song’s chorus, he channels another haunting, really nice Layne Staley-esque tone that feels altogether at-home with the overall feel of the song and record.

That the vocals command so much of the listener’s attention is quite a feat, as the 3-guitar attack of Bryce R. VanHoosen, Sebastian Silva and Devon Miller is enough in and of itself to impress any listener. The overall tone is perfect – crunchy and super impactful when it needs to be in the band’s heavier sections, while carrying that familiar, phase-y tone on the cleaner sections of “Next To the Sun” and ballad “What Will Be” that transport you back to the 90s and early 2000s. Besides the obvious nod to Nevermore, the tone gives me a great nostalgic reminder of Sentenced‘s The Cold White Light, To/Die/For‘s Epilogue or Theatre of Tragedy‘s Aégis – very moody and very millenium-era Century Media Records-ish.  Take your pick of awesome riffs on thing – the ground-and-pound fury of “Resistance 2029,” or the super thrashy “Divine Fury” (a strong contender with “As the World Burns” for my favorite track) that brings more of the sounds found on their prior work to the forefront, but still delivers a heavy dose of Loomis to the mix (the 20 second stretch starting at 4:00 is a pulverizing thing of beauty, not to mention the amazing final solo). While the 3 guitars may not make themselves immediately necessary in a highly-produced studio setting, I’m willing to bet that it would pay off beautifully live – and I really can’t wait to hear it first-hand.

Though I’m sure the band themselves were intentional in their clear Nevermore adoration, I don’t mean to get the entire thing bogged down as a direct comparison between the two. That’s too reductive of everything the band offers on Decadence and Decay. I’ve just been so hungry for even a taste of something that reminded me this much of the legendary act, then when someone like Silver Talon comes along and not only does the sound justice, but absolutely knocks it out of the park, I just can’t help but get a little excited about it all… Okay, VERY excited about it. Christ, I didn’t even touch on the suberb rhythm work on display from drummer Michael Thompson and bassist Walter Hartzell (both are monsters), BUT WHATEVER – the point is, this is an excellent album that does so many things right – from the gorgeous album art, to the excellent production, to the stellar songwriting and performance – everything deserves your attention. Now excuse me while I ignore pretty much everything else that comes out for the next couple weeks and listen to this on repeat til my ears bleed.

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.

Our friend Erik T messages me recently, telling me to check out this Cynik Scald promo that just came in. Doesn’t say anything else, no indication to what I might be getting myself into here, but the guy knows my tastes pretty damn well at this point – so sure, I’ll give it a go.

Friends, I don’t know what the hell I expected. I sure-as-shit don’t think I could have ever expected…  whatever the hell THIS is. Cynik Scald is a goddamn WILD ride.

So listen, I’m just gonna go ahead and assume that, like me, this is the first time coming across this band for a VAST majority of you. As such, I wish I could give you a little more background about this project, but every link I’ve followed of theirs is pretty sparse in the information department. The best I’ve got for ya at this point is that this album was originally released back in 2019, and is apparently gaining some traction now because a couple songs were added to some Spotify playlist? Also these dudes (?) reside SOMEWHERE in the Eastern Bloc (maybe). Most of the tracks, including (very) random ballad “Последний дракон,” that sure look and sound like they’re in Russian, but I’m no linguistics master soooo… I dunno what to tell ya. What I do know if that City of Nemesis has no interest in fitting into any defined category. There’s a good dose of Folk/Viking metal at it’s core, along with some hefty Groove and Melodeath thrown in for good measure, and plenty of Nu-influences going on around the fringes as well.

If you absolutely needed some kind of comparison… I think the closest thing I can come up with is that it’s kinda like if Obscurity, Wolfchant, Chrome Division, Soil and Otep all went over to Crotchduster’s house, threw their keys in the fish bowl, huffed a bunch of gas and spray paint, and let the night go wherever it took them.  Now don’t get me wrong – there’s some absolutely compelling stuff all over this record, it’s just all over the goddamn place. Opening track “Циник” starts with some really upbeat Melodeath-inspired riffing and melodies, right before dropping down into, like, some 311 rock-riffs-meet-funk-and-reggae weirdness, layered with the singer’s very… uh… distinct vocals. It’s like a crooning Cookie Monster. But then things pick back up again and, again, some really strong guitar melodies and drums lead the way. This all repeats a few times before the track ends and your left wondering what world you’ve stepped into. And that’s not even the weirdest track on the album by far! The electronics-laden “Асгард” (apparently the Russian translation for “Asgard”) is an Enter Shikari-meets-Crematory monster that would feel at home in a rave as much as it would at Wacken. This before the song busts out into a blistering bridge/solo that kicks you right in the face out of damn nowhere. It’s eating a pack of Sour Patch Kids, only the sugar coating is cocaine. It’s fucking bonkers.

And then things get REALLY weird! After the aforementioned, out-of-nowhere ballad “Последний дракон,” all of a sudden we’re transitioning over to an all-English affair, with the self-proclaimed ‘Motorbike Road song,’ “When The Sun Goes Down,” which indeed, is a heavy, rocking groove metal track complete with slide guitars, a backdrop of revving Harleys, and – because why the fuck not – a whole lot of harmonica. HELL YEAH. I didn’t know metal needed more harmonica, but here we are. There was an American punk band once called Scotch Greens that basically did the Celtic punk, Flogging Molly thing but with an American Bluegrass background instead of Celtic Folk. A weird thing to bring up, I know, but they were fucking awesome and this track is kinda like the metal version of them (side note, if that sounded at all appealing to you, go check out this playlist on youtube right now cuz it’s amazingly fun. You’re welcome). Guys, listen, grab a banjo, a harmonica, a fiddle, and a cigar box guitar, and meet me somewhere down in West Virginia, we’re taking this idea and going places!

Anyway, where was I? OH, so the album rounds out with a sorta rap/power metal track “Silent Rainbow” which is just as ludicrous as it sounds, and the all-over-the-place “Can Dance Without You” which, all in once song, features some mariachi horns over Fear Factory riffs, an outrageously catchy hook, and one especially heavy breakdown. Again – Mariachi horns over metal – where the fuck were you on this, Central/South America? I don’t know why I want more but I absolutely do. Please do something about this.

I don’t really know how seriously I’m supposed to take Cynik Scald. In my mind I want to believe these are just some fun-loving metalheads coming together to have a good-ass time doing whatever the hell they want and making whatever the hell you want to call all of this. I’m just gonna stick with that mindset because as fucking bonkers as this all is, I’m having a ball listening to it. The band also has a couple new tracks up on Spotify which are just as weird as anything here on Aged Spirit, so check those out if you just need more strangeness in your life.

… OH! Cyprus. They’re from Cyprus.

It can all start to blend together and become hard to stand apart, so when uncharacteristically brief and to-the-point messages come in, they usually tend to grab my attention! Such as the case here: a simple message of “Hi! As you may have heard, ETERNAL AUTUMN reformed in 2017 after a hiatus for 16 years…” No, friends, I had not heard! In fact, I had no idea this band had even existed in the first place!

But, sure enough, a quick qoogle search shows that, after releasing two full-length records in 1998 (The Storm) and 2000 (From The Eastern Forest) the band took a long break before getting back together and releasing 2019’s The Werewolf Diaries EP. Alright. So who are Eternal Autumn, and why should you care?

Well, I remember last year listening to Nite’s Darkness Silence Mirror Flame last year and thinking to myself, “Ah, alright, this is gonna be a thing now,” that “thing” being a super catchy mix of Traditional Heavy Metal topped with harsh, raspy, blackened Abbath-like vocals. And it wasn’t just me heaping praise on the band, either. That record (deservedly) took a spot on numerous year-end lists throughout the metal world. It was a sound both refreshing and nostalgic, a reinvigoration of sounds we all know and love, but put together to create something wholly new and exciting.

Well, as it turns out, I guess Eternal Autumn have been doing that for a while now. Who friggin’ knew?!

I should clarify, I don’t mean in any way to suggest Nite of any ripping-off or thievery or anything like that. It’s not a carbon-copy situation, and to be fair, Eternal Autumn’s earlier works have a little more of a more melodeath-leaning flavor, but the current formula especially is pretty damn close, and it’s friggin’ SWEET. Mighty, traditional heavy metal riffs blackened at the edges, backed up with epic, catchy-as-hell melodies and leads that just get stuck in your brain and don’t let go. A little bit or Judas Priest, a dash of Mercyful Fate and Diamond Head, and a good dose of Celtic Frost come together in unholy matrimony to create a hell of a good time.

The EP’s title track starts off at a rousing, fist pumping pace, getting the juices flowing before drawing you in even further with some excellent little Maiden-meets­-Thin Lizzy leads, working those melodies into your brain until you find yourself able to get them back out again. But the band switches paces, and soon they’ve slowed things down and take you on a sweet, melodious little Proto Metal ride that steadily builds back up to epic, head banging finale and leaves you wanting much, much more of this.

Unfortunately for you, me and everyone else, there’s only one more track. Luckily for all of us, it’s another rousing, fun mix of classic heavy metal-meets melodeath that strikes a super catchy nerve. This one slows things down a touch, going with a churning, galloping riff that really leans into the harmonies. Somewhat lower-end production quality aside, it sounds really great, each member of the band showing off some impressive chops, practically forcing you to bang your head and pump your fists with glee.

If you’re like me and have never been introduced to these guys, drop everything and check out their early LPs The Storm and From The Eastern Forest, as well as their excellent, slightly more Black Metal-leaning 2019 EP The Werewolf Diaries. I promise you you’ll be very happy to have all of these releases in your life. As for To Tame The Impaler, the only possible complaint I have is that two songs just isn’t enough. I need more. I need A LOT more of this. So pretty please, guys, can we string a few more songs together for a full-length in he near future? I’d very much appreciate it.

Long before Glenn Danzig became the ill-advisedly shirtless butt of countless metal memes and jokes, the man was responsible for at least 3 excellent albums of darkened blues-meets-rock/metal before things started getting a little… wonky. It’s easy to poke fun at the guy now, but Danzig I-III are goddamn classics and I won’t have you telling me otherwise. DON’T @ ME.

Which is why it’s been so disheartening to see Danzig reach the depths ranging from tired and uninspired (Danzig IV), to downright fucking cringy (2020’s Danzig Sings Elvis… god, just… why?) and everything in-between since his initial solo-career success. There were a few releases sprinkled here and there that showed glimpses of inspiration or past glories, but for the most part, it’s been pretty bleak.

So if I can’t get the real thing back again, maybe the next best thing is to find the best possible imitation, and just like Gruesome is doing the world a solid and giving us more Death 20 years after Chuck Schuldiner departed for Valhalla, Finland’s Black Totem is more than up to the task of giving the world more classic Danzig 20ish years after the band stopped releasing anything I really give a shit about.

And the imitation is nearly spotless. Blackened, bluesy filth just permeates the whole thing, complete with just enough outrageous, overzealous crooning that made Danzig himself so ridiculous, yet somehow so endearing in his glory years. I feel wrong not having a cigarette hanging out of my mouth and a bottle of jack in hand listening to II: Shapeshifting. While things get off to a slightly more upbeat start than anything from Danzig’s early work, the overall tone and feel of first track “Begone Vampire” is unmistakable. It’s a raucous, energetic song that kinda bridges the gap of all things Danzig, including nods to both The Misfits and Samhain before breaking things down into straight-up dirty blues rock on the back half of the song. It’s a super-fun start to the album and leads nicely into follow-up “The Devil” which is just pure OG devil-blues Danzig. I like the vocal interplay between lead vocalist and guitarist “Spit Poison” and bassist “Wera Wolf” – it adds a little bit of extra dynamic to the song and I plays a fairly central theme to the rest of the album.

The middle stretch of the album does add a few extra fun elements to the Danzig love-fest that help to keep things a little less predictable. “Black Nekro Gloves” is a catchy-as-fuck little surf-punk-inspired jaunt that injects a bit of energy back into the mix after a couple more plodding songs, and “Ghoul of Crow Swamp” adds a sludgy, grungy Melvins or Mudhoney vibe that just adds even more to the grit and grime of the whole experience. But after the band is finished meandering through a couple different alternative paths, it’s right back to our favorite New Jersey dark boi with a three-songs stretch of “Backyard Corpse Blues,” “Welcome Lucifer,” and “Warlock,” that would all find themselves perfectly at-home on Danzigs I-III. To further elaborate would just be an exercise in writing for the sake of writing, because if you know those albums, then you know exactly what to expect here.

Look, I never said this was anything special or mind-blowing, right? If you have a special place in your heart for the days before Glenn Danzig was known more for being an Aqua Teen Hunger Force character or getting knocked out in viral Youtube videos – then grab a smoke, open a beer, and settle down with this little gem from Black Totem. It’s a real treat.

2020 was bullshit.

I KNOW! Wild claim. One that certainly hasn’t been used to frame the context of endless metal album reviews. No sir. This is Grade-A original material here!

So, why do I bring the 2020 thing up THIS time? Well, for a while there, it seemed like maybe, JUST MAYBE, we were finally pointing this thing in the right direction. Curves were flattened, businesses were reopened, and did we learn from past mistakes? HAHAHA NOPE. Settle back in folks cuz we got it ALL fucked up, and now we’re looking at a whole goddamn winter’s worth of isolation.

So the point is, you’re gonna need something to help pep you up through some inevitable rough patches, and my friends – Ireland’s sons of thrashing tomfoolery are here to serve up the smiles and get you off that couch to thrash around your quarantine space at breakneck speed. Gama Bomb is here to bring the party.

While the Warbringers, Havoks and Vektors of the world have been serving up the more serious side of modern Thrash in more recent years, Gama Bomb have been more than happy to fill the more fun, upbeat Anthrax/S.O.D. counterpart – but like their spiritual predecessors they’ve also got the chops to back up their tongue-in-cheek (some might call gimmicky) ways. Getting right down to business, Sea Savage begins with the super fun “Judo Killer,” packed to the brim with precision riffs and some extremely busy drum work, a theme that plays throughout the entire album – this unit plays tighter and cleaner than a German chemist’s asshole. Not a single off-beat note to be found here, and it’s all impeccably produced – allowing every instrument to come through the mix clearly.  Which is just as well, really, as it’d be a shame for Joe McGuigan’s killer bass backbone to get lost. Just turn to the killer bridge on “She’s Not My Mother, Todd” to get a great example of the bass and drums holding everything together while guitarists Domo Dixon and John Roche lead the way with some tricky, acrobatic guitar work. Everyone works together beautifully, and it makes for a super satisfying listen.

On full display once again are vocalist Philly Byrne’s unique vocals. While his style may not everyone’s cup of tea, his range remains as effortless and impressive as ever, and it certainly gives the band another element that sets themselves apart from the pack. Those falsettos on “Iron Blood” and album standout, “Sea Savage,” just add to the exuberant, fun-loving experience, inspiring me to (very poorly) try to mimic in the shower. I apologize to my wife, neighbors and dog – but I can’t help it. The whole thing is just too intoxicating.

And the band is still here to appeal to your innermost movie buff – from Italian cult classic “Miami Supercops” (one of the albums strongest tracks), to Terminator 2 on the aforementioned “She’s Not My Mother, Todd,” to a Jungle Book reference (of all things) on “Sheer Khan,” Gama Bomb continue to lean fully into their roles as bringers of all things fun and not-at-all-serious. It’s a refreshing and invigorating escape from a world gone fucking haywire, and you can’t help but let these Irishmen worm their way into your heart.

Look, this isn’t an album or band hellbent on blowing you away or hitting you over the head with some grand, world-changing opus. That sounds like too much work. No, Gama Bomb are happy to just provide the world with another opportunity to break away from the bullshit of the world and have a fucking blast for a little bit, while also providing you with some high-level musicianship to keep it from becoming a gimmick or to “shtick-y.” Don’t think too hard about this – just press play and have some damn fun.

The last album, Surreal Overdose, was one of their most brutal and while there are definitely some elements of that on here-, check out “A Palpitation’s Warning” or “Endless Well” for proof of some mega moments, Ghostly White is rooted more in the spirit of Fearless Undead Machines and Supernatural Addiction. So we get the signature trademark death thrashiness of Deceased, however it’s mixed in with more classic metal and NWOBHM moments this time around.

Sure, opening track “Mrs. Allardyce” comes in with such an ethereal melodic metal sounding guitar riff, which is too freaking catchy for words. The song then erupts into a monster mid-paced moment and King’s vocals, erupt. His vocal mix is more upfront on this recording, and he sounds as great and throaty as ever. The guitar melodies on this particular song are killer and just when you thought there is no way they are topping the classic metal moments and death thrash parts, the 13”+ “Germ of Distorted Lore” comes through with a killer part which sounds like it could have been a riff on As the Weird Travel On. The song moves, thrashes and has some amazing guitar solos. This is mixed with faster moments with some excellent vocal stanzas and catchy verses. The song is the perfect blend of everything Deceased does so well and it never feels like 13”.

“The Shivers” is a highlight for me with an amazing opening guitar riff and excellent and haunting melodies. Excellent drumming from Dave and strong vocals from King. “Pale Surroundings” is the perfect ending song with the haunting and catchy female vocals. Eerie, atmospheric and brilliantly placed. The album was recorded with long time friend, Mike Bossier at his Maryland Oblivion Studios. Great production/sound and it ties in with the 80’s look and feel of the Ghostly White album cover. The booklet is exceptionally designed with the lyrics, illustrations and explanations for each song. One of the finest albums of 2018. Naturally-organic, brutal, well-played and catchy as a muthafu**er. Buy or Die!