“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.
“My friends ask me what happened, but my ability to verbally communicate has been reduced to moaning and a weeping noise that sounds something like a baby panda crying for milk. I wonder how I’m going to make it through the final day of this floating festival. I wonder when the aching will subside. I wonder where my life went so wrong. How did I end up here, on the 7th annual 70000 Tons of Metal cruise, weak with exhaustion and feeling like my body has been bludgeoned with a sledgehammer? My mind drifts back…” Tales from a 70000 ton heavy thing.
“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!
“Cannibal Corpse opened the gates for the pornogrind bukakke blast to come (sp) in the mid 1990s, they were and are a death metal band. Granted, Germany’s Gut was wallowing in depraved and murksome waters for a few years, but they always had more in common with a band like the Meat Shits dashed with a touch of Macabre than anything remotely malevolent. It was with Deranged’s debut, 1995’s Rated X, that the menace Cannibal Corpse lost appearing found a new, grindier and even more perverse host.” Glove up, peeps, this one is venal and vile (and sticky).
“As I walk through the valley where I harvest my grain, I take a look at my list and realize it’s very plain. Barring an oddity or two, this feels like the most predictable list I’ve assembled since joining the AMG crusade. I can’t even blame 2014, since it was a decent if not amazing year for metal during which we all learned to enjoy of deep sadness and worship at the altar of the all seeing Sphere of I-ruhn.” Brace yourselves, sheeples, a two ton Top Ten(ish) heavy thing is about to drop from the steely skies onto your eager eyes.
“As 2015 makes her grand and stately entrance, bear with and support me as I try to hunt down even more new blackened death metal albums that sound exactly like Septicflesh.” Madam X has her foibles, but she also has plenty of quirks. Join her as she unveils a Top Ten(ish) list sure to bumfuzzle and befuddle.
“Another year, another Top 10(ish) list. I’ve not written much for AMG this year, as some of you have noticed, and I kept a healthy distance from the “scene” in general. Rather than devote my time to high-profile, overhyped albums, I’ve pretty much listened to new music that I actually liked, and ignored everything else. As a result, this list is probably weird as hell.” Yes, yes it is.
What? It’s October already!? Just in time for the Record(s) o’ the Month, July edition! Now, you may be asking yourself “but did anything come out in July?” and the answer would be: “dude, do you even metal?” Hell yes it did. And we’re not even going to fuck around, we’re just going to jump right into the joy of bringing you the July’s best metal records (that we reviewed and also liked).
I’m tired.
“Pugnacious. That’s what Overkill are and what they’ve always been. From the early days bumming around places like L’Amour in Brooklyn, boozing with the fans and hoping to finagle a slot on stage, on through a slew of influential, punky, neo-thrash albums that became minor classics, this crew of New Jersey ne’er-do-wells always had a big chip on their collective shoulder. Maybe that’s why they’re still hanging around the thrash scene like neighborhood thugs on the street corner, looking for more trouble after a lifetime full of it. They’ve stuck around long enough to release White Devil Armory, their seventeenth goddamn album, and they’re showing no signs of giving up their turf without a bloody fight.” Ready for a back alley mugging? Come to Overkill.
“North Carolina’s Valient Thorr may well be the world’s ultimate opening act. Their crossbreed of proto-metal and garage-y punk is engineered for maximum effectiveness, and has allowed them to warm up the crowd for bands as disparate as Motorhead, NOFX, and Gogol Bordello. This is due to the band’s authentic rock ‘n’ roll swagger, boundless energy, and mostly the entertaining antics (and wrestling boots) of their vocalist, the eccentric Valient Himself. Regardless of what band you actually paid to see, Valient Thorr will win you over by the end of that 35 minute set.” An awesome live band does not a great recording band make. Can these warriors translate their live energy to the studio? Mr. Fisting Himself has the answers.
