“In the realm of blackened thrash, Frosthelm are a unique breed. While many bands of this style are content in simply carrying the torch of Venom or adding a slightly blackened edge to a thrash metal template, this North Dakota group instead swirl together Dissection-style meloblack and crunchy Bay Area thrash into a blizzard of orgasmic glee.” When victory is death.
"warbringer"
Crisix – Against the Odds Review
“While I like many of the rethrash bands currently in the scene (Warbringer, Power Trip, Reign of Fury—to name a few), few bands have the energy and in-your-face attitude of the original scene. Spain’s Crisix don’t appear to write the hefty stuff, with smirks on their faces and whoopie cushions under their asses, but these guys can fuck shit up. Two years ago, these sonsabitches fell from the sky and roundhouse-kicked me in the nuts. And now they’re back to sac-tap me once more with Against the Odds.” Tapping the (main) vein.
King Parrot – Ugly Produce Review
King Parrot make grindcore great again. At least that’s what I thought after first hearing the Australian quintet’s 2012 debut Bite Your Head Off, which bucked genre norms by fusing groovy aggression with honest-to-God vocal hooks and a “hip slumdog” attitude. In my review of 2015 follow-up Dead Set I referred to the band as the “Die Antwoord of grindcore,” and that remains one of my favorite analogies I’ve made at AMG to this day.” King for a day, grind for 12 minutes.
Dead Head – Swine Plague Review
“I’ve liked Dead Head for nearly a decade, though I haven’t thought of them in nearly that long. During one youthful torrent rampage, I collected an album for every letter of the alphabet; 2009’s Depression Tank served as the D. Titillated by the delightful mix of Panzer riffs and bullet belts, I patiently anticipated a follow-up, my naive exuberance skating right over Dead Head’s spotty release pattern.” Plagues before Swine.
Interview with Leif Jensen of Dew-Scented
“During Roadburn this year, my girlfriend and I had the pleasure of hosting Leif Jensen of Dew-Scented and his spouse in our apartment, providing them with a place to sleep, eat breakfast, and store their gear. Of course, I wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste, so Leif graciously agreed to an interview one early and tipsy Saturday afternoon.” Couch surfing with the stars.
Distillator – Summoning the Malicious Review
“Thrash has deflowered many a metal virgin over the years, myself included. As such, regardless of the modern state of the thrash metal scene, it’s easy to fall back into cozy nostalgia, despite my belief that the majority of thrash bands are caught in a perpetual loop of attempting to rehash the genre’s past glories and ’80s heyday rather than forging their own path of destruction. Pulling strands from the much pillaged Bay Area thrash scene of the ’80s, spiked with whiffs of old school Slayer and Destruction, Distillator go about their business with minimum fuss and plenty of throwback thrash attitude and tightly executed chops.” Distillation was never this heavy.
Blood Feast – The Future State of Wicked Review
“New Jersey’s Blood Feast is yet another in a seemingly endless stream of resurrected relics that reaffirms I’ll never reach the bottom of the well o’ denim ‘n bullet belts.” Look what crawled out of the NJ swamp lands.
Harlott – Extinction Review
“Twenty-seventeen is turning out to be the year of thrash. On top of Kreator and Overkill, there’re new releases from Havok, Warbringer, Power Trip and, later this year, War Curse and Reign of Fury. In between all that, we also get a contribution from Australia’s own Harlott.” Thrash now comes with an extra “T” for added toughness.
Havok – Conformicide Review
“I’ve had March 10th circled on my calendar for a while now. Since 2011s Time Is Up, I’ve adored Denver rethrash act Havok. Follow-up Unnatural Selection failed to live up to expectations, but I’m still playing Mr. Conductor on this episode of Thomas the Hype Engine.” Trains, pains and double reviews.
Power Trip – Nightmare Logic Review
“Remember the good old days when thrash spoke to every unhappy degenerate forced to take a piss as Big Brother stood by watching? It was a time when metalheads rose to the occasion, spoke to people better than even our greatest orators, and made a stand against crooked politicians. It was a time when being a rebel stood for something and tearing each other apart in circle pits and walls-of-death was the greatest form of therapy.” Some gave some, Doc gave more.