“What’s that? You’re tired of the progressive melodoom or whatever foofoo bullshit we’re giving Record o’ the Month to these days? Of course, you are. You want something heavier. Faster. Rawer. Something that feels like eating stale Chinese food out of a back alley garbage can while a stray cat gives birth in the background. We’ve all been there, and the solution is simple: Vomitor.” Vomitor, repeat as needed.
“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.
The first time I saw Mammoth Grinder live, I was wasted at a bar in Portland and had to laugh as the band announced every song as a Deep Purple track to see if anyone would notice. The second time I saw Mammoth Grinder live, I was shithoused in Brooklyn and had a Warriors-style adventure trying to find my way home on the New York subway system after the show. Point is, apparently being drunk and seeing Mammoth Grinder live is the best way to get hooked on them, because I’ve been anticipating Cosmic Crypt since before I started writing for AMG.” Fat, drunk and at a Mammoth Grinder show is no way to go through life, Z.
“Remember that scene in Ghostbusters (the real Ghostbusters…) where Winston tells Ray, ‘If someone asks you if you are a god, you say yes!’ Well, if someone asks you if you want to write a guide for teaching organic chemistry, you say hellafuckingno. I’m serious. Do yourself, and everyone around you, a favor. So, yeah, this year’s been nuts. Thankfully, there’s Angry Metal Guy—a solace for all metalheads to come together and be verbally abused and cat-tailed in the company basement.” Cat’s got yer list.
“Making a successful and popular Top Ten list involves a series of complex calculations, comprised of, but not limited to the following: a tallying of recorded scores, estimated scene cred, a precise proportion of big and underground bands, a spot for that one record universally praised during the year, and a pathological need to seem like one has not missed anything.” Making a list, checking it thrice.
“Well, there it went. Another year, another… blah blah blah. Let’s be honest: you’re not here to listen to me drone on about how 2017 was, you’re here to scour my list for stuff you might not have heard, confirm your own good taste by seeing how many of your favorites match up with my own, and chime in with your own take on my admittedly questionable choices.” Valid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages: Jørn proudly brings to you the hall door swingin’, poser metal slingin’, the not brvtal enough, not even once, the Great Old Weenie, Eldritch Elitist, the Basic Bitch, Dr. Wvrm, the Shame of Angry Metal Guy.” Yeah, that’s about right.
“Just in time to ruin your holiday cheer, Belgian quintet Marginal come storming into the party like your drunk Uncle Randy after one too many glasses of rum and eggnog. Formed in 2013 by veterans of other Belgian acts Aguardente, Bark, and Aborted, this unkempt troupe seeks to combine grindcore and crust whilst paying homage to the early days of Napalm Death, Extreme Noise Terror, and Discharge.” Crust in the wind.
“Kill! is most largely occupied by thrash influences but splices in death growls, hardcore sneers and the occasional slower, dirgier riff. The staccato style of djent also features, particularly in the introductory riffs to a number of tracks. The two bands I hear most are Kreator and Meshuggah, rendering it established in the modern day but definitely facing backwards.” Crippers and blood.
“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.
