“Goathammer’s name is a paradox. On one hand, it sounds metal as fuck. Goats are easily one of the most metal animals, while the word “hammer” conveys a sense of primal, brute force. Yet at the same time, it feels kind of generic. If someone were to hold a gun to my head and force me to come up with ten metal band names in two minutes, “Goathammer” would be right near the top of the list, along with “Death Trooper” and “Satanic Thimblefucker.” Goat with a bullet.
“Let’s talk about cult bands for a moment. Were you ever find the actual Book ov Heavy Metal and look up the word “cult,” there on the sacred parchment would be a photo of Virginia’s death/thrash warriors, Deceased flipping you the bird as they spill cheap beer on their ragged denim war vests. These metal lifers have been banging away with abandon since the 1980s, always with limited notoriety, though one of a kind frontman King Fowley has been everywhere on the festival circuit playing with October 31 or anyone else who has extra brewskis.” Dead and loving it.
“What’s always been appealing about Deathhammer is their remarkably particular niche, one which nobody really knows they need until they hear it. Take the earliest Sodom and Slayer material, and pretend a band existed alongside them which kept more of the speed metal influence around and played their music with all the tact and professionalism of early Venom and you have a good idea of what to expect.” Bring down the Hammer.
“Well, here I am, again, reviewing another Bonehunter record. It’s felt like anywhere from three years to ten since I reviewed the band’s 2015 debut, Evil Triumphs Again. Yet, it feels like it was only yesterday that I reviewed their follow-up record, Sexual Panic Human Machine. This is most likely due to the band’s progression from Bone(d)hunter on their debut to Bone(r)hunter on Sexual Panic Human Machine. I mean, the 0.5-point improvement between these two records shouldn’t go to their throbbing heads but this Finnish trio did hint at some originality with Sexual Panic. But, an album glistening with bear dick only goes so far before our HR-friendly Grier gets bored.” Roll the Boner.
“One dark and stormy night many years ago, some guy was in his attic listening to his vinyl copy of Bathory’s debut when he thought to himself, “I could make music like this!” It didn’t end there. It happened again. And again. And again. Now it’s 2018, and the number of bands that have taken influence from first wave black metal is so great you could probably build a bridge to Hawaii made solely from their goathead T-shirts. Diabolic Force is one of those bands, and if you thought this Brazilian trio were here to breathe fresh life into the style, you must have missed the fact that their new album is called Praise of Satan.” Satan is overexposed.
“When it comes to pretension, quoting yourself is one of its masturbatory peaks. Allow me to indulge in a scratch that lingers slightly too long and paraphrase what I said about Australia’s Cemetery Urn in the distant year of 2017. The band’s self-titled release showed a great deal of promise with its punishing yet coherent death metal, making them a band worth paying close attention to. While I had been anticipating a new release, this quick of a turnaround is worrying. Can Barbaric Retribution be the result of a productive fit of inspiration or a public jettisoning of leftovers deemed unworthy of records past?” Respect isn’t given. It’s Urned.
“Two years ago, I passed on a little Chilean black/thrash band named Invocation Spells. Not because they, or their third full-length record, The Flame of Hate, sucked, but because I already had a handful of promos to prepare for review. So, when I saw their name pop up on the Almighty AMG Promo Sheet again, I knew I’d have to check them out. Though this little two-piece outfit ain’t the next generation of black/thrash, their Aura Noir-meets-Darkthrone approach—with the aggression of a second-wave black metal outfit—is a good fit for the genre.” Chile and means.
“We’ve all been there. We’ve all strived to transcend weakness, to beat back the forces of oppression, to rip the fucking heart from the proverbial lion. Deströyer 666 use the motif of a wolf to convey this sense of power; fellow Australians Mongrel’s Cross use a dragon. Their 2012 debut The Sins of Aquarius was rife with such smoldering imagery, taking the Australian black thrash tapestry and soaking it in the grandiose swagger of Bathory’s Blood Fire Death. The result was both a personal favorite and one of the style’s most potent albums in recent years.” Dragons, Bathory and battles, oh my!
“If you’ve ever had a nasty scab that just wouldn’t fall off and wondered what lurked underneath, it was Cemetery Lust, the audio equivalent of gangrene, sepsis, piss and pus. This infectiously thrownback thrash crew last tested the strength of my immune system with 2014s Orgies of Abomination, and to this day I’ve yet to scrape off all the ooze and offal spewed by that piece of nastiness. Four years later, they recur with the charmingly titled, Rotting in Piss, and all pathogens are once again airborne, this time with a hint of asbestos for extra lung fun.” Urine trouble.
“You’ve got to hand it to Throneum. Back in 2016 I took a big steaming metaphorical shit all over their Morbid Death Tales album, and less than two years later the raw death metal trio have come right back with nearly an hour of new music. And they even sent us the promo, to boot! Clearly the Polish troupe must be quite proud of their Tight Deathrope Act over Rubicon, but lingering memories of Death Tales’ shithouse production and underdeveloped songwriting left me reluctant to snag this regardless.” Walk the Deathrope.
