“Every Entombed clone thought of themselves as carrying on a lineage, writing riffs in the vein of their favorite albums—not being derivative or boring as we may find some of them. This disconnect is fascinating—an album we may hear and not give a second thought to afterward likely consumed weeks, months, years of every member of the band’s life. When this comes to mind, my chief question about middling releases is ‘why?'” Dead again.
“It’s Monday. 8:24 A.M. I pull my Toyota into the Magazine Street parking garage, fifth floor, the only spot in the shade that still has cell phone reception. Aura Noir’s Out to Die is blasting on the stereo. I pay the parking fee on my mobile app and sigh as I prepare myself for another day at the office. And then, I stop. What if I don’t go in? I think to myself. What if I just turn the car back on and drive away? What if I forget my job and spend the rest of the summer guzzling booze, getting hairy, and banging my fukkin head for the Master in Hell? It seems radical, but a group of people have actually done it.” Down with adulthood!
“Goddamn, I’ve reviewed a lot of black metal this year. Not that I’m upset about it. But, since joining this illustrious website of snobbery and pretentiousness five years ago, my yearly average is higher than it’s ever been. Is it due to Grier selling out and over-rating the under-rated albums of 2019? Oh, hell no, you over-commenting sonsofbitches. It’s because I’m blessed to review bands like Istapp, Darkthrone, and Vous Autres. Over-rater, I am not. Over-editor? Well, yeah, look at what I have to work with here! But, in hopes of lowering my average for the year and giving my black, swollen head a rest, I closed my eyes and reached into the scorpion-infested grog box that is the AMG Promo Bin. And out I pulled Atlanta’s only Kreator-inspired thrash metal band, Sadistic Ritual.” Thrashlanta.
“Does anyone remember Nattefrost and Carpathian Forest? Not that they’ve fallen from the face of the Earth but neither band has released a full-length album in thirteen fucking years. So, I wouldn’t blame you for moving on to other filthy, leather-clad black metal outfits. Hell, even most of the original members of Carpathian Forest got tired of waiting around for another release—instead branching off to a variety of other musical outlets. But, for all the hate, filth, satanism, and unholy loads of Nattefrost piss, puke, and jizz, these two bands hold a warm, throbbing spot in my heart. But, lo and behold, there is a young band with the same kind of perverted mindset.” Sticky.
“The impression I’ve always got from Noisem is that their primary goal is speed. Velocity is not an aspect but the essence of their sound. It’s a fun callback to the 80s speed race – which neither Noisem or I lived through – when bands would hear new grindcore demos via tape-trading and then try to write something even faster.” Speed thrills.
“Chainbreaker. It’s a name that conjures images of freedom being won, justice being attained, and dragons being mothered, but it only takes a cursory listen to the lyrics on Lethal Desire to realize that this is a band whose aspirations are not nearly so lofty. Comprised of former members of Toxic Holocaust and Cauldron, Toronto’s Chainbreaker specializes in speedy thrash anthems dedicated to hell, killing, drugs, and what the Bible refers to as fornication, and sometimes all of these at one time.” Chained to the oldies.
“There are many ways to celebrate Halloween: candy; costumes; horror movies; punk-influenced thrash metal albums from Cleveland. The latter is brought to you this October [Er, November… my bad – Ed.] by Vanik, a thrash band Frankensteined together from punk and metal musicians harvested from the likes of Toxic Holocaust, Ringworm and Vindicator. Following up their self-titled debut, Vanik have now sharpened their Voorheesian machetes in preparation for spreading terror with their new Halloween-themed record II: Dark Season, released by Shadow Kingdom Records.” Is one of the ways you can celebrate Halloween as dressing up as a retro thrash band and releasing a record? That answer, inside!
“This will stand as one of the most random introductions I’ve ever written. But the thought sprung to mind and, now, here we go. I dislike the word ‘mentor.’ But not for reasons you might expect. My dislike for the word has nothing to do with a bad experience as/with a mentor or mentee, or anything else along those lines. I hate the word because of how it rolls off my tongue. I’ve heard it pronounced as ‘mentor’ and as ‘menter.’ Yet, I’m incapable of saying the word as others around me say it. Instead, my enunciation transforms me into someone from The Great British Baking Show.” Mentor, mentee, manatee.
“It’s 6:50 PM on a cold Saturday night. I’m tapping my foot impatiently, waiting for my lovely girlfriend — a few months my elder, and perhaps a bit slower moving, therefore — to come out from her room. ‘Come on, darling,’ I say, double-checking my tie in the mirror, ‘we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.’ I hear the door open, and expect to be floored; she always looks so good in dresses, and this is a formal event. I turn around and do a triple-take — she’s wearing a strawberry onesie. I’m left confused as to what her intentions were, and I may perhaps never figure it out. May as well make the most of it, right? This ethos permeated my listening time with the Finnish band Vuohi’s debut full-length Witchcraft Warfare.” Kitchen sink-core.
“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.
