“War…war certainly changes. Whether it was the Crusader’s use of the crossbow against their enemies’ inferior longbows, the subversive tactics of the Cold War, the intellectual dispute between the thought of Martin Luther and Francisco de Vitoria on the justness of combat (the latter was right, by the way), or the modern West taking Plato’s Republic one step further and treating everyone as the great philosopher did Greeks in our international war laws.” What’s it good for?
“The process of quantifying quality is always a capricious thing. Contrary to nature, what I might allow for one band, I may use to vilify another, and we haven’t even begun to touch on the perils of genre favoritism — because, despite any reviewer’s very best attempts to consider a product on its individual merit, there will always be some material that I’ll subconsciously allow an extra furlong of leeway.” Media bias!
“I listen to fast music; the rage-inflicted murder beast that lurks in my soul is never fussier than when stuck behind some jamoke doing 25 mph. Consequently, picking up Weltesser was a bit of a gamble, as doom has never been my speed. The right groove can rev my engine, but idle too long and I’ll go right to Sleep.” Doom to improve.
“I, like a lot of you, I’m sure, have an uncanny, savant-like memory of where I was and, more often than not, what mischief I was up to when I first heard a particularly evocative album. I remember, clearly, being 17 and hearing Rust In Peace for the first time and how I sat open mouthed as “Tornado of Souls” bombarded me with the sonic equivalent of Gamma rays, cursed forevermore to Hulk out whenever a sweet thrash riff graced my ears. Categorically, I will never forget first hearing Bolt Thrower’s “World Eater” whilst I sat in my friend’s room, dispatching copious amounts of cheap beer.” Beer, bros, brutality.
“Considering most of you have kitchen scales lying around, it may seem strange that heaviness appears to have a subjective element. While no one will argue Behemoth to be heavier than, say, ABBA, what constitutes the ultimate in aural obesity seems to differ from person to person.” Heavy is as heavy does.
“If thrash was an actual school, Slayer would sit off in the corner glaring at everyone and carving pentagrams in the desks, while Anthrax cracked jokes and drew penises on their textbooks (dick jokes, man). In this delicate metal ecosystem, there’s little doubt Overkill would play the role of school bully, gleefully dealing out wedgies, swirlies and the dreaded Rear Admiral with pugnacious glee.” Lunch money. Give it!
“Seven Kingdoms came out of nowhere in 2012 and caught nuclear laser lightning in a bottle on the unheralded The Fire is Mine, blowing me away with their righteously irresistible take on classic Euro-power (the Game of Thrones concept didn’t hurt either). That album is one of the best pure power metal platters in recent memory and one I still go back to with alarming frequency. It’s been an uncomfortably long wait for a follow-up, but now they’re finally back with Decennium and my expectations could scarcely be higher.” Winter finally came.
“Being at the bridge between traditional and more extreme forms of metal, death-thrash isn’t a style with a lot of clout. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the sub-genre, but its middle ground status means that most peoples’ preferences fall to one side of the genre or the other. While there’s no denying the beauty of heavy metal, readers will recognize that I fall on the brutal side of the scale.” Brutality is a deathstyle choice.
“Have you ever gone camping, and that one friend brings his guitar to play songs around the fire? But the thing is, he can’t really play, he’s a shitty singer, and he only knows Bob Seger songs. You sit there saying to yourself, ‘I wish I was actually camping with rock legend John Garcia. That would be the best camping trip ever.’” Cold breeze, clean air….
“What’s black and white and re(a)d all over? A war metal cover made out of newspapers! Stupid joke, but I bet you smiled anyway. Good news for all of you goat/Satan fans out there, Crurifragium are here to ensure you never smile again. Born of an unholy union between members of Demoncy, Astraes Pestis, and Warpvomit, these Seattleites bear all the triple-6 markings of a devil-worshiping crew looking to hail Lucifer in the best(ial) of ways.” Satan.
