Music — S. Craig Zahler (2024)

Judas Priest return with new guitarist Richie Faulkner and an awakened Scott Travis on Firepower, an album which is the living definition of "pretty good."

On this album, Halford's shrieks are limited, and as the recent live Priest albums show, he cannot scream across the stratosphere as well as he once could. (His last 150% recording was the double live Halford album, which has the unbelievable shriekfests, "Hell's Last Survivor" and "Sad Wings".) Even with a lower ceiling on his voice, Halford is terrific, my favorite singer in metal history, and he sounds great singing any reasonably good vocal idea. Whether rough or smooth, high or low, staccato or melodic, angry or dolorous, Halford is the master. (Perhaps only Eric Adams and Ronnie James Dio have ever turned in comparable work.)

So...there are a bunch of thoughts on only the vocalist of this classic metal band...and there's a reason for that. This album feels like a Halford solo album more than a Priest album. A similar argument could be made about Black Sabbath's 13 for similar reasons: The riffs aren't particularly memorable or unique to their respectively historic riff writers. There is no “wow” when Iommi and Tiption talk with their axes on these albums. Almost all of the best material by each band has the synergy of great riffs and great singing. The Sentinel. Sign of the Southern Cross. The Ripper. Touch of Evil. One Shot at Glory. The Wizard. Symptom of the Universe. Falling Off the Edge of the World.

And thus, songs on both 13 and Firepower almost entirely succeed or fail based on the quality of the vocal ideas, in particular, the quality of the chorus refrains. The strong riffs and sinister metal landscapes found in the finest Priest songs are wholly absent on this album. So on Firepower, this band that trailblazed twin guitar harmonies and high energy hammer-on riffing is largely there to give Rob Halford something to sing on top of.

And sing excellently, he does. The lush, somber chorus of clear album highlight, "Rising from Ruins" (which conjures up memories of "Night Comes Down"), the anthemic "No Surrender" and the biting, clipped approach he takes in the refrain of "Traitor's Gate" show but three facets of the platinum standard of metal singing. Similarly, songs with lousy or mediocre choruses are thus torpedoed by their refrains--"Necromancer," the dual stabs at modern macho ("Flamethrower" & "Lone Wolf") and the forced album nadir, "Evil Never Dies". Other tunes with pretty good choruses are consequently...pretty good. "Never the Heroes," “Spectre,” and "Sea of Red," (which is a bit too Broadway/chromatic, but not embarrassing like "Loch Ness").

Could "No Surrender" and "Spectre" be Halford solo songs? 100% And to me, that means that the full potential of the band Judas Priest has not been tapped, and the album falls into the category of "fun," rather than “timeless.” Even derided albums like Ram it Down and Turbo have "Blood Red Skies," "Out in the Cold," swaggering, twisted blues like "Love You to Death" and the monolithic stomper "Monster of Rock". All of these tunes and their respective albums feel like all of the guys are creatively participating at a full level. Not so here.

The production on Firepower is the best of their post-Painkiller albums. Drums are beefy and all of the leads sound like they went through blasting amps, which hasn’t been the case for a while. Welcome back producer Tom Allon, (technologically?) aided by Andy Sneap. Perhaps because of Allom or Sneap or some good coffee, Scott Travis woke up. This technically perfect drummer was good on Painkiller, but has been keeping time and creatively unremarkable for nearly three decades, other than on the song "Down in Flames" and a few spots on Nostradamus. He wakes up on here--the extra China crashes and accents in "Lightning Strikes" are quite good and his fills and accents really help all around. Raise an iron mug of coffee to Travis for finally delivering more of his potential.

I wish Priest didn't feel obligated to make hour long albums, since both this one and Redeemer of Souls have enough good material to be far better full experiences if they were 40 or 45 minutes long. It's great that Halford sounds this good, and I'll continue to buy and keep albums of this quality level, but hope for something more. Obviously they were quite inspired as a band when they made Nostradamus--"Alone" and "Death" are their two best post-Painkiller songs--but that huge double album has far too much filler as well.

Should you get this album? Yes, if you're a Priest fan. “Rising from Ruins” is really good and has a departure section that develops other dimensions (and keys) and helps make it feel like grand, classic Priest (and oddly, the departure in the lemon, "Evil Never Dies" also has some cool key changes and grandness in the departure, but is torpedoed by the chorus).

Firepower has 4 winners, 4 mediocre tunes, and 5 decent/above average songs. Very good Halford; pretty good Priest.

The Pattern of Depravity is a very different album of brutal death metal. It is a nonstop riff and syncopation showcase that demands your attention for it’s twenty-five minute duration. It’s an album comprised of short, approximately one and a half minutes songs, each of which features wildly twisting additive meter hooks in exotic modes—like the best hooks Dallas Toler-Wade contributes to Nile.

For the most part, a Perverse Dependence “song” sounds like one long and bewildering riff, albeit one that has a few moments of repetition. A lot of the drumming precisely mirrors these (approximately) ninety second riffs note for note—chiseling every chug with a snare hit/ride hit combination and accenting syncopated chords with crashes, so there is never a moment when something other than the riff takes the stage. And although there are lots of blastbeats on this album, these are interspersed throughout the riffsongs at moderate and rockin’ speeds, and most of the music—even the parts with blastbeats—seems mid-paced, albeit very detailed.

To be clear, the description of this album does not sound like something I would actually like—seventeen short tracks of brutal death metal with odd time signatures, occasional hardcore riffs, and very technical drumming—and that is part of my fascination with this release: It somehow works.

The short duration and ongoing intensity of each song brings to mind grindcore, but Perverse Dependence achieves the same thing in a brutal death metal context on The Pattern of Depravity. I’d prefer a bit more repetitions to break up the non-stop fretboard and drum gymnastics, but it works as is. Fans of short Nile tunes like Smashing the Antiu and The Howling of The Jinn are advised to get this one.

I adore this 1990 album by WWIII, but it is not for everybody ... or even most people. Essentially, this WWIII debut is a heavy metal / hair metal / hard rock hybrid. It is simple music that could have passed unnoticed had not the performers mercilessly beat the sh*t out of it.

Mandy Lion is the lead singer of WWIII, and I can safely say most people won't like his vocals. His timbre has the gravel of Lemmy and post- Iron Maiden Di'Anno, and his shrieks compare to those of Manowar's Eric Adams as well as the pig squeals of Udo, but Lion's overdone dramatics--- the cartoonish "evilness" of his persona--- is truly bonkers, and likely something most people would make fun of. So yeah, if you combined Lemmy, Di'Anno, Udo and Eric Adams into one guy and then had a devil vampire bite him, you'd get Mandy Lion. I know this sounds ridiculous, and he definitely is. But the fire coming off of him and his many different modes of singing are terrific. Moreover, he comes up with some great musical refrains in songs like "The Cage" and "The Harder They Come" and other times, sells a chorus with the incredible delivery of a simple idea "Love You to Death" and "Time for Terror."

If you like what Many Lion does, you'll also be faced with the choice of 1. Ignoring the idiotic lyrics 2. Embracing the idiotic lyrics. I choose the latter, since this entire album is excessively excessive and the macho posturing (in clumsy English) is yet another obscene layer to this thing. Example: "The harder they come, the harder I get... I never ever had a problem yet. Hey baby wanna place your bet?" So yeah ... um ... poetry.

Vinny Appice, the greatest drummer in the history of mankind, is the other performer operating at 500% on this album. His work on Black Sabbath's best album Mob Rules (esp. "Sign of the Southern Cross") and the first four Dio albums (esp. "Rock and Roll Children," "Holy Diver," and "When a Woman Cries") is the most flavorful, powerful and emotive drumming ever. None of these songs would be nearly as good with regular beats. WWIII comes right on the heels of this great body of work and Vinny throws boulders, slams doors, and stomps buildings relentlessly. Compare the drumming in "I Love You to Death" to Dio's "Don't Talk to Strangers" to see how Vinny builds (and delivers) crescendoes. His kit sounds massive and the performance is a river of thuds, accents, and interesting syncopation that enrich the world. Hail to the master.

Guitarist Tracy G (later in Dio as well) plays some simple and noisy riffs or open chord progressions that straddle the fence of metal / hard rock--- nothing too complex here. Oftentimes, he's more interested in playing a noisy variation of the hook than the hook itself, but you already heard it some, so why bother to play it "right"? His loose approach often approximates that of a veteran guitarist that has played a song live for decades and is just sort of riffing on his music -- hinting at it -- so that the crowd can recognize it and applaud. And yes, this seems an odd approach on a debut album, but Tracy G's riffing has a nice live electricity throughout the album, and when he solos, he can really deliver--- the lead in "Love You to Death" is certainly Vivian Cambell caliber stuff.

A couple of duds keep this album from unwieldy and cantankerous perfection--- "Atomic Sex Appeal" and "Call Me Devil" are forced even by the standards of a band that forces everything---but most of the album is good or great stuff. It is doubtful that most people (including you) will be able to handle the megaton of pounding, shrieking, screeching, ugly awesomeness that WWIII delivers on this disk, but check it out if you want to experience the most hideous and savage variation of hair metal ever conceived.

Carcass is the band that interested me in the extreme side of heavy metal. Perhaps in the minority of Carcass fans, I enjoy all of their previous albums— yes, even Swansong (though I could not get into the risible Blackstar (aka Blackstar Rising) project). From their opaque grinding inception to their groovy death ‘n roll conclusion, I enjoy the varied musical offerings from Steer, Walker, and Owen. Memorable riffs (in many different styles) and interesting arrangements are the constants of quality for this ever-changing entity.

When I heard that Carcass would be releasing a new album, I was excited but wary, and when I read that the album was to be a mix of their previous styles—plus new stuff—my enthusiasm grew. The reported vocal presence of Bill Steer was also something to look forward to, but it’s been a long time away for these guys, and there was no way to know creatively where they were at. I was 23 the last time I heard a new Carcass album, and as a 40 year-old fan, my tastes have developed—I’ve written a lot of music and a ton of criticism and heard thousands and thousands of death metal songs.

So I am happy to report that Surgical Steel proves to be a respectable and triumphant return for Carcass. From the Hellion-inspired intro 1985 to the weighty closer, this is a good album, loaded with ideas. There’s a lot of talk as to which incarnation of Carcass this new effort most resembles, and the answer is obviously Heartwork. There are moments from other albums—the progressive arrangements and twin guitar circling of Mount of Execution recalls Necroticism and some of the overstuffed vocals in tunes like The Master Butcher’s Apron recall the force-feeding lyrical approach of the grind era—but essentially, Surgical Steel is Heartwork, Part II. Lots of catchy thrash riffs with palm-muted chugging that would fit comfortably on some of the better Megadeth albums (albeit with different tuning), lots of heavy metal twin guitar (with uglier harmonies), lots of time changes, and lots of interesting (but not too complex) arrangements comprise this release. So like Heartwork, Surgical Steel is an energetic album full of sterling hooks, cartwheeling solos, somber melody, left turns, and speed, but lacking the creepiness of their necrotic, sick and putrefactive days. In short: This album is not atmospheric at all, but rather exciting and catchy.

The main limitation here—and also on Heartwork and Swansong to a lesser degree—is Jeff Walker’s singing. I had hoped to hear 17 years of musical wisdom in his choices, but this performance is actually a step down from his lead singer approach on Heartwork. His singing is and has always been limited—it’s a pretty good spoken word snarl, but not much more—and whenever he tries to expand his rasp into contoured death metal crooning as he does a few times on this album (esp. Cadaver Pouch Conveyor System) and throughout Blackstar and often on Swansong, his singing makes me think of Krusty the Clown. Long held notes and melodic contour just don’t sound great in Walker’s clearly enunciated snarl. And when he leaps out to the front with playful ideas, it can get a little embarrassing— the singing at the end of the otherwise terrific 316L Surgical Grade Steel is pure St. Anger stuff and injures the song. So yeah, Walker does a specific thing pretty well (and on the best Satyricon albums, Satyr does the exact same kind of vocals much more tastefully), but the sheer quantity of the lyrics for some of these songs is just out of control—a “cramming in” approach to vocals that is the main relic of their grindcore days and out of place here. Proof: The best vocal chorus on the entire album is in The Granulating Dark Satanic Mills where Walker simply sings numbers for the major part of the section and leaves a lot of open space. Drier vocals and sparser singing suit him better than more emotive or playful stuff. The tiny, almost insignificant vocal contributions of Most Valuable Carcass, Bill Steer should have been greatly expanded (he used to have the far better voice), and Walker’s singing should’ve been cut down by 50% or more. And when Steer’s voice is present—I’m assuming that’s him in the chorus of Captive Bolt Pistol—his voice is way, way over processed and squandered. So Walker’s singing—the overwhelming amount of it, the timbre, and the pedestrian phrases he contrives—is the only reason that this album is a good album and not a great one.

Former drummer Ken Owen’s distinctive beats are missed in Carcass 2013, but as is usually the case with line up changes in successful bands, the new player is more technically proficient and less creatively compelling than his predecessor. This is not to chop on Dan Wilding’s playing—he is very good at rocking some of the weird left turns—but Ken Owen’s progressive playing in songs like Embodiment and Heartwork and his deep pocket groove in Rock the Vote evince a songwriter’s mentality (and on a personal level, incredibly inspiring—I used to practice to these three songs). Wilding’s drumming snaps into place and propels the action and grooves when needed, but lacks the singular musical voice of Ken Owen (who is a ride cymbal artist). I fully concede that the comparison is a bit unfair—there have been over two decades of extreme metal drumming since Symphonies & Necroticism and a lot of extreme drumming patterns and techniques have been cleaned up and standardized (for better and for worse).

Looking at the larger picture, the second half of the album is far stronger than the first, though all of it is good. From Noncompliance of ASTM F 899-12 Standard onward, Surgical Steel has my interest 100%. It’s at this point—track 6—that song structures get a lot more compelling and the riffs get more dynamic. Additionally, since there are more in the way of instrumental passages in the second half, the best element of Carcass music—the riffs and color changes and arrangements—aren’t as smothered by vocals. Steer’s solos are certainly sharp and exciting, mirroring the characteristics of the album as a whole. And the musical trepanation after Walker’s cry of “Trepanation!” in Captive Bolt Pistol is an excellent example of imagistic riffs and a tactile listening experience—that hook certainly bores into the brain.
Although Surgical Steel is hampered by some pedestrian singing, the album is a catchy, exciting, inspired, inspiring, and commendable continuation of the Carcass legacy. Unfit for Human Consumption, Mount of Execution, and Noncompliance of ASTM F 899-12 Standard are some of the best tunes in the band’s varied catalogue, right alongside Incarnated Solvent Abuse, Lavaging Expectorate of Lysergide Compostion, Forensic Clinicism, Embyrionic Necropsy and Devourment, Rock the Vote, Death Certificate, Heartwork, and Embodiment. That three songs on the first new Carcass album in 17 years match the very best songs they’ve ever recorded is a testament to their artistry, craft, and passion.

There are many tribute acts that play covers of their favorite bands, and in metal there are also hundreds of examples of tribute bands that compose original songs in the style of their favorites. It is easy to dismiss many of these bands as not very valuable knock offs—I often have—but there is a key difference that can make or break this kind of musical hero worship.

I like Count Raven. They play doom and could easily be dismissed as a Black Sabbath knock off—their singer sounds like he is doing an Ozzy impersonation—but their riffs have a modern (or at least nineties) sound and some harmonies that wouldn’t be out of place in Norwegian black metal. In the end, they have an identity of their own because their music is their own. But a band like County Medical Examiners crosses the line for me. They not only replicate the Carcass sound, but take actual licks, melodies and vocal phrases from Carcass. Some will call CME’s music an homage, but I’d use a different word.

This preamble brings me to the Malaysian death metal outfit, Humiliation, whose every move and sonic choice comes from the book of England’s glorious Bolt Thrower. There is perhaps no death metal band I listen to more often than Bolt Thrower, so I am open to a band playing in this style if they don’t just steal music and call it an homage. For the most part, Humiliation plays in the Bolt Thrower style, but writes enjoyable original music.

Compared to some others who follow behind the mighty rolling tank from England, Humiliation fares quite well. Slugathor, while perhaps a bit more original than Humiliation, has a mediocre sense of melody and is spotty. War Master delivers about half the time, though rarely delivers good riffs or vocal ideas when they do fast stuff (which is strange, since they were once half of the blazing grind outfit Insect Warfare). Humiliation ignores the grind era of Bolt Thrower (I like grind, but think Bolt Thrower got much, much better once they slowed down), and focuses on steady, mid-paced rolling tank power.

Surprisingly, Humiliation is actually a slightly SIMPLER take on Bolt Thrower, with even more steady chugging than their progenitors and even less activity on the fret board. Compared to Bolt Thrower, Humiliation’s vocals are more desperate, sparser and less stately, and there are a couple of attempts at slightly catchier choruses (“Blind Bomb” and “Fast Kill”), which are pretty good.

My criticisms begin with the rather boring tune “Proposition of Violence” that is simple even by the standards of this band and longer than most cuts. It’s just dull. “Fastkill” follows this tune and seems like a retread of “Blind Bomb,” so we get about 10 minutes of standstill after the solid first half of the album. “Manifesto of Lie” returns us to the statelier side of things and the album finishes out decently, but considering the simplicity and similarity of these tunes, it’s better to err on the side of brevity. And certainly “Artillery Open Fire” and “Manifesto of Lie” would have been far better final songs than the less distinct “Bukit Kepong.”

Bottom line: This thing should have been a 35 minute tank ride instead of 49 minutes. I bought another album by them already, and I chose an EP.

As with my favorite Bolt Thrower albums (For Those Once Loyal & Mercenary & Honour - Valour - Pride), Humiliation’s From Strength to Strength is a smooth album of relentless rolling power, steady chugging and martial confidence. I would like to see more (or at least some) of Humiliation’s own personality on their next album, but this one succeeds in its v

It is hard to rate a split, and in a case such as this where it seems like some tracks are bonus tracks (and thus, not something that should raise or lower a rating), it is even harder to arrive at a number. Thus 55% is an imperfect reflection of my mixed views of this release.

In general I prefer EPs to splits, since it's rare that I'm excited about both bands. In the case of this Fecalizer and Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis split, I bought this CD for the songs by the wild Mexican goregrind outfit Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis (aka Paracocci).

The Fecalizer songs are mediocre, dingy and dull goregrind. Their originals are all very short tunes, excepting their cover of Reek of Putrefaction, which I was surprised they could almost pull off. The six minutes of original material they contributed is padded by the cover tune and samples, including an especially long one from Re-Animator. Fecalizer's half of the split rates a 40. It happens and ends ... and you might not even notice that it happened or ended.

The Paracocci portion of the split is far longer---about 25 of the 40 minutes belong to them and most of their 25 minutes are filled with original music. And still, these six songs can be split yet again: The first three seem recorded in a studio and have some bite, while the last three tracks seem like demos or live tracks and are an unintelligible slop (even by the wild Paracocci standards). These last three cuts are not any better than the Fecalizer tunes and really sound like they're just making up everything as they go.

BUT . . . the first three Paracocci cuts are quite substantial, both in terms of length and quality. These three tunes are EXACTLY what I want from this band. They are passionately played, terribly filthy and very wild goregrind. At its best, Paracocci music is a Battle, and the name of that Battle is Music Fights Chaos. The song entitled Exciting and Sucking Female Carcinomas juxtaposes sloppy blasting and a steady chugging march, and later, hesitant chords lurk around the beat (4:00-) and are disciplined (4:15). A weird melody even unwinds in the conclusion of this tune, which is easily the best on this release and a real highlight for the band.

Although I really enjoy the three "studio" songs, I can't get behind the stuff the precedes and follows them. I am a fan of Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis, and I await an album full of songs as good as Exciting and Sucking Female Carcinomas, songs where these crazy goregrinders fight obstacles, fight each other, split apart, join together, march, collapse, die and are are reborn.

I have to hand it to Shadow Kingdom Records---they really unearth some gems. In addition to those Ritual albums and those Dragonslayer demos that they put out (some of the all time best New Wave of British Heavy Metal), and their continued re-release of classics from (the GODS) Manilla Road as well as Pagan Altar, they found a lost gem from a late seventies German outfit called Hand of Doom, which is a ton of fun.

The music on Hand of Doom's album Poisonoise can be compared to a lot of things: Deep Purple (albeit simpler), the early King Diamond band Black Rose, Mercy (of Sweden), and of course lots of the blue collar bands from the NWOBHM, such as Last Flight, Mythra, Bashful Alley, etc.

What most distinguishes Hand of Doom is the distinct and exceedingly bizarre personality of the lead singer Andeas "Iggi" Rossner. His flailing histrionics, rolled "Rs" and bombastic personality are what take this album out of the world of simple and good hard rock and give it a touch of menace and a gallon of crazy. Imagine a singer in 1979 who has the oblivious troll lunacy of Attila Csihar (!) and the off-kilter semi-musical swagger of Hank from Turbonegro. If you think I exaggerate, check out the wild and emphatic conclusion of Heavy Mad Head and the horror storytelling of They Who'll Creep At Night. Rossner demands your attention like a child that has eaten far too many Whoppers, and if you buy into his gruff, high octane madness, you'll like this album.

Because Poisonoise is at the edge of hard rock, a lot of what the band does is provide a chugging, energetic backdrop for the singer's antics ... but there are some exceptions. There's a lot of good bass playing throughout the album, and the twin guitar explorations in (closer) The Lights of the Blind show a melancholic and thoughtful side that compares to stuff like Gaskin and Wishbone Ash. Apparently, the rest of the band had some ideas other than just standing behind their larger-than-life frontman. In any case, the musical complexity of this last song provides a richer concluding experience than I expected and is a very enjoyable color shift.

Overall, Poisonoise is a solid, hard rockin' heavy metal party that is made distinct by the lunacy and personality of the lead singer.

Ari Honkonen, singer, guitarist and songwriter of Minotauri and Morningstar (and the main guy in Heathen Hoof) is perhaps the least appreciated top-tier singer/songwriter in heavy metal history, and this album, II, is one of the Finnish fellow's finest achievements.

Minotauri music somewhat resembles the grungier, catchier side of Pentagram (Relentless) and the albums Mob Rules and Born Again by Black Sabbath. The album II is economical in terms of song length and arrangements, and the reason it is remarkable is the amazing consistency of the ideas that are presented. Here is an album of seven songs (not including the bonus cuts) in which all seven songs are very good. Every single tune is strong enough to be the A side on a 45.

One of the main reasons that Minotauri is so successful is the personality of the lead singer, Honkonen. He does not mimic the esoteric crooning and bravado of (the amazing) Albert Witchfinder, nor Ozzy, nor the neo-Ozzies in Count Raven, nor the drug-addled madness of Liebling, nor the bluesy introspection of Wino. Honkonen is a Euro-Barbarian, a wandering Neanderthal who inhabits an oppressive, sad and dangerous land. His heavily-accented English only compounds his disenfranchisem*nt. This kind of primitive and emotional singing is more often found in epic metal---bands like Ironsword, Brocas Helm and Hyborian Steel---and is one of the best and most distinguishing features of this band, as well as Honkonen's other outfit, Morningstar (who became good in 2000 on Weight of the Hammer and then got even better).

Lush and dirty chords abound, such as in the great choruses of Kill to Live and Doom on Ice, providing a heavy, somber and rich mood. The oppressive throb of the verse riff in War hammers the lyric home in the best and most obvious way, and it works 100%. Storms of the World swaggers like Sabbath's Country Girl and the middle elaborations on the breaking riff are perfect pounding simplicity along the lines of Manowar's finest moments. And the lyric change of the line "Some people think that I worship the devil..." in the climactic chorus of Under the Cross is more evidence of Honkonen's brilliant, simple and instinctual approach to songwriting. Give this guy a platinum medal.

It doesn't require tons of parts or tons of singing to make great doom metal, just great ideas delivered at a slower pace by people with strong personalities ... and that's exactly what Minotauri do on this essential album.

Although I slightly prefer the atmosphere and overall wretchedness of the first Saprogenic full length, The Wet Sound of Flesh on Concrete, this follow up, Ichneumonid, offers something different that is quite enjoyable. On this solid, solid album, Saprogenic emerges from the reverb cavern of their debut and proffers a very respectable display of riffs, strength, aggression and improved arranging abilities.

There is nothing subtle about this record. It is about beefy hooks and surprising arrangements all delivered with a consistent level of force, often at midtempo. In spots Machpherson's drums don't sound quite as locked in as on the debut, though he is a proficient and creative player, so this is likely a result of the punchier, fairly brickwalled sound that clarifies every hit. Overall, tunes like Death March have a little bit of looseness that makes everything feel REAL and performed (see also: Hate Eternal, The Crown and Squash Bowels) rather than assembled, which is atypical given the clarity of the sound stage. In short: these guys are great players, and I like that they leave in the little flaws.

Swanson's vocals are very guttural and often a consistent wave sound. The choices he makes seem a little less musical than they were on the debut--a bit closer to the smothering style of Matti Way--though they are fine and support the music. Also, there are more slamming sections on this album than the debut LP, and they do this stuff very well, and occasionally in weird meters, as heard in the Morbid Angel-tinged, Unparalleled Perversions.

So this is my favorite Pathology album, even though it's not by Pathology. But yeah ... Ichneumonid really sounds similar to things like Age of Onset or Awakening to the Suffering (and predates them as well). On all of these release, both bands favor abstract vocals, short energetic tunes and brutality over tech, though they have the skills for tech. Saprogenic writes better riffs than their better known (and very active) peers and also crafts more interesting arrangements and more culmination moments, so they really win in all departments.

The most limiting thing about this release is that it is comprised of 11 fairly short songs (totaling about 35 minutes)---so the scope never reaches too far and nothing ever has too much weight. Overall, Ichneumonid is a forceful, enjoyable and carefully detailed platter of brutal death metal.

Although Reek of sh*ts is categorized on this site as brutal death metal/grindcore, it would be easy to make an argument that they play goregrind on this album. Likely, the band's inclusion of a few too many punk riffs as well as their overall looseness pushed them into the core rather than gore category, despite the album's imagery, tremolo riffing, and deep (mostly) abstract vocals, all of which are in keeping death metal/goregrind.

Deface Mind is a collection of fairly short grinding death metal songs--around 3 minutes on average--and it is clear that the band is having fun with material that they enjoy playing. Lots of short 1 or 2 measure tremolo riffs yield to more interesting material, and ultimately the reason that this album is better than average (with 50 being dead average) is because Reek of sh*ts knows which riffs to emphasize, especially in tunes like Butchers Pinny and the slightly too punky Crippled Abortions. (These titles also seem in a gore mode...)

The cover of Napalm Death's Suffer the Children gives you an idea of their basic template and vocal style, though it was the black metal band Von Goat whom I thought of most often when listening to this album, since VG typically supplies one good hook per song and uses other simpler ideas and tempi to mix things up.

Judging from this LP, Reeks of sh*ts isn't a remarkable grind outfit like Squash Bowels or Carcass or Insect Warfare or Lymphatic Phlegm or Blasted Pancreas or Dead Infection. Reek of sh*ts is simple and competent grinding death that has a good sound (the same could be said for Gruesome Stuff Relish and Skullhog) and they give you just enough good material to make the listening experience worthwhile.

I've been listening to heavy metal since the eighties and extreme metal music music for twenty years, and certain records were too much for me when I first heard them. But as I spent time with Symphonies of Sickness, Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk, Amongst the Catacombs of Nephren Ka, Black Force Domain, Axis of Advance/Conqueror/Revenge, Panzer Division Marduk, World Downfall, Grind Virus, Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis, etc., I learned to appreciate and embrace what was going on, and my tastes developed to include music at a new level of extremity. Eventually, with albums like these, I enjoyed ... and I understood.

Such understanding will never come to me regarding the sonic insanity that is Interplanar Decimation, by the Brazilian band Infested Blood.

There is a real reason for this. For the major part of this twenty-eight minute album Infested Blood DOES NOT PLAY IN A TIME SIGNATURE. I'm not saying they change the meter a lot---a hundred wanker tech bands I dislike do that---I am saying that for most of this punishing album, THERE IS NO METER. You cannot count the beats or even the time changes, because there is no beat underneath this whirling assault for you to count. They are bananas.

Interplanar Assault is a fast and frantic event of syncopation, airborne riffs and mania. sh*t just happens all over the place, loudly and angrily, and you can't stop it. Irregular riff fragments and long, winding hooks fly into the vacuum and the drummer accents things---lots of things, since ALMOST ALL OF THE ALBUM IS ACCENTS. While this alien (or telepathic?) shredding and pummeling occurs, some guy gurgles and grunts whenever the hell wants to. Why not?

So the reason I will only give this wild and brutal release an above-average recommendation is that it is a thing to witness and marvel at--truly--but it is such an unrelenting assault, such a maniacal beatdownclusterf*ck, that I doubt I will ever really enjoy it. And since it is ten-to-the-tenth-power of too much, it gets a bit monotonous after about four songs of chopped riffs, pounding accents and velocity cranking: Rarely does the listener get much in the way of culmination moments or gratification.

Interplanar Decimation is extreme by even the most extreme standards, a punishing, jackhammer assault in 360 degrees that shows that the members of Infested Blood have a shared madness...

The consistency of Trepass's early output in terrific, especially considering the lineup changes on almost every release, though the two Sutclifes remained as the core. Other than the debut Diamond Head and Angel Witch LPs, the Angel Witch single, and the second Dragonslayer demo, there's no classic New Wave of British Heavy Metal Band that shone brighter in their heyday, though admittedly, Trespass did not put out all that much material.

What this great single offers is two tracks of blue collar heavy metal that are sure to appeal to fans of Thin Lizzy. On side A is One of These Days--- one of the best ever tracks out of the NWOBHM. The tune starts with a spacious plaintive lead over a slow arpeggio, recalling perhaps Michael Schenker/Doctor Doctor before moving into a throbbing groove that is further augmented by twin leads. The vocals are blue collar, melodic, low key and heartfelt in a way that very few traditional metal bands ever try to be. The held vocals are by a regular guy lamenting as the machine of the band presses ever onward, with or without him. This song is a beautiful and simple diamond.

Side B, Bloody Moon, is even more focused on twin leads---ones that are a bit more intricate, and overall it is a moodier piece. The end result is something nearly as good as the triumph on side A and more about the guitar melodies than anything else.

This single--and also Bright Lights and to a slightly lesser extent Jealousy--are recommended stuff to fans of revving, cruising early metal that has a plaintive side--- bands like UFO, Thin Lizzy, Red Lights, Bashful Alley and Gaskin.