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“Chthonic Hybrid Musick” from Oulu; atmospheric and darkly melodic
instrumentals supporting medieval incantations that build a solemn and majestic tone with more than a touch of Latin/Italian
goth to it. The blending of influence and instrumentation (listen to the Middle Eastern/metal mix of “Nivt Net Meru”)
gives these leisurely-paced compositions something of an epic quality (particularly the battlefield dusk of the closing “Kesayo”),
a facet that the length of the tracks (generally running 6-12 minutes) reinforces. But it’s not without its lighter,
dreamier, more meditative moments such as “Mental Fugue.” Rich, intriguing and occult.
* * * *
Firedoom
Music – www.firebox.fi – Teollisuustie 19, 60100 Seinajoki, Finland
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ABSCESS – Damned and Mummified
Wickedly sick-assed stoner grind with
some brilliant ultra-heavy grooves that make this a head-ripping good time. The band’s hearts are in the right dark
places with bile-dripping tracks like the opening “Through the Trash Darkly,” “Swallow the Venom”
and “Twilight Bleeds,” throughout the entire album performing an accomplished blend of metal styles into one hellish
underground party. A viciously good time, Abscess would fit a perfect double bill with Hellblock 6.
*
* * *
Red
Stream Inc. – www.redstream.org – P.O. Box 196242, Winter Springs, FL, 32719-6242
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ALCOHOLICS UNANIMOUS – 20 Years of Tanked Up Tunes
Dr. Kegger M.D. is a classic fucking album; original drinking songs, by drunks, for drunks, put up rim-to-rim
with famous covers, all interspersed with vintage beer ads. You cannot argue with that. And I can honestly say that seeing
A.U. perform live Upstairs at Nick’s in Philly was a highlight of ~25 years of concert-going. So, the bar, so to speak,
was set pretty high for this batch of Tanked Up Tunes. And does a gang of drunkards
ever disappoint? Wait, don’t answer that. What you got here is another bunch of old standards and home-brewed numbers
that include five unreleased tracks plus another 19 from eight different releases over the years. Of questionable proof to
be sure, but dig some of the gems contained herein: the never-enough call of “Six Pack to Go,” the seductive instrumental
“Gin Rickey,” odes to both malt liquor (“Crazy Horse”) and the horn-blowing “Rot Gut,”
the stew-bum salute of “Wino Boogie,” punk-drunk anthems “Drinking Saved My Life” and “Santa
Claus DWI,” “Alcotopia” (enough said), and the immortal “Shittin’ and Pukin’ at the Same
Time Blues.” Not to mention jug-certified tributes to the genre the likes of “Don’t Come Home a Drinkin’
(With Lovin’ on Your Mind),” “Bloodshot Eyes,” and “Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down,” with
special mention to “The Wino / White Lightnin,’” “Drinkin’ Wine Spo Dee O Dee” and the
revival-style “Drinkin’ Wine.” Drinking music that’ll leave you drunk and happy, spinning the album
on replay as you snore into the shag and your neighbors pound the walls. And in the painful morning light still asking the
question, Why the FUCK isn’t this on more jukeboxes?!?
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ALL MY FAITH LOST... – As You're Vanishing In Silence
Prettily somber and sadly sweet, there’s an alluringly haunted, drifting quality to
the music of All My Faith Lost… Propelled by acoustic strings and keys, and the hushed vocals both male and female,
these tracks of love and loss are almost subliminal in their expression of glorious mourning. Perfect rainy day music.
* * *
Cold
Meat Industry – www.coldmeat.se – Villa Eko, 595 42 Mjolby, Sweden
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ALL MY FAITH LOST... – The Hours
The Hours begins on a shadowy folk music note as subtle flute and acoustic guitar
are joined by a duet of male and female voices in “Angelike.” This drifting melancholy precedent is followed by
the more instrumentally accentuated but no less languid “Notti Biance” and the even deeper and more multi-layered
“The Waves,” the feminine vocals of which swim into and join the contrasting male vocals of “Ocean Sea.”
“Presagio Triste” and “House of Incest” are so sorrowful and understated that they’re practically
anemic; in fact, much of the album seems to flow out like blood into a warm bath. With ghost story, even: “An Early
Fright.” The album fades to black with the forlorn “Amado Mio,” a song that plays like a very last letter.
Very much suited to the gothic mindset in that it is beautifully dismal, The Hours
is definitely made for dark evenings and candlelight.
* * *
Cold
Meat Industry – www.coldmeat.se – Villa Eko, 595 42 Mjolby, Sweden
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ANTiSEEN – Badwill Ambassadors
You know what you’re in for when the Cosmic Commander of Wrestling introduces
an album – a heaping stack of sonic harassment aimed as much at kicking your ass as stimulating your senses. Anyone
in the least familiar with ANTiSEEN will immediately recognize that the band is in their fighting prime here, evidenced by
the boldly locomotive “Alpha Male” and “Scapegoat,” the awesome carelessness of “F.T.K.,”
“Ten Pounds of Shit In a Five Pound Bag,” the definitive ode to Abdullah the Butcher “Dear Abby,”
the definitive ode to the war on terrorism “Pledge Allegiance to the Bomb,” the outlaw country “Q-Pid”…
even “The Dean of Sods Returns!” Easily the band’s best recording since Here
to Ruin Your Groove, this is Southern-fried hatred at its hardcore finest.
*
* * *
TKO
Records – www.tkorecords.com – 8941 Atlanta Ave. #505, Huntington Beach, CA,
92646
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ASMEGIN – Hin Vordende Sod Og So
From the halls of Odin and (if the wickedly happy mushroom-laden cover art is any indication)
the cauldrons of Norwegian shamen comes the most skilled and unusual Asmegin. With an incredible combination of uber-gruff
subterranean vocals joined together with black metal shrieks, ancestral choirs, and angelic female harmonies, all laid out
alongside majestic rhythms filled out by stout drumwork, classical violin, and the strongest of metal, Asmegin easily lives
up to their billing as a folk metal band. And not at all in a weak and wispy fairytale way either; the lighter interludes
are surrounded by classically victorious heavy metal rampages (or maybe they’re just really really vigorous drinking
songs), and although I have no idea what they are about, tracks like “Af Helvegum,” “Over Aegirs Vidstragte
Sletter,” and “Op af Bisterlitiernet” are truly stirring, while the lengthy and imposing final trilogy “Vargr
I Veum,” “Blodhevn,” and “Valgalder” comprises the very peak of a brilliant album. Hey, where’s
the Jaegermeister and amanita muscaria?
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ATRIUM CARCERI – Cellblock
Quiet, subdued, yet haunting little soundscapes from the Simon Heath asylum. Although each
of these twelve tracks seems more like a fragment or a glimpse into the darkness of Atrium Carceri than a complete piece,
together they jigsaw into a goosebumping soundtrack. Whispering echoes, cautious footfalls, and muted voices sweep through
the darkened halls of Cellblock, along with the occasional feral sound of an animal
or invalid who has returned to take up refuge in this damaged nest. Abuses of long ago are recalled and relived, as broken
restraints click and clatter and something moving in a sack is dragged through fallen corridors, past boarded-up rooms where
unspeakable acts might still be occurring. (All coming back to life and taking place in the middle of the night, of course.)
All the while hushed electronic tones are lending an atmosphere of subtle menace to the entire exploration, manufacturing
an understated ambiance that very capably creates an impression of abandonment while at the same time building a hesitant
apprehension of what may break through the barrier of bad memories and dreams being resurrected here. Each time I’ve
listened to it, Cellblock has brought the film Session
9 very forcibly to mind, and if you enjoyed the film you will no doubt appreciate this recording.
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I had no idea what to expect from BBQ, so was most happily surprised to hear
a live, yes live, one-man band who rode the line between the Fifties and Sixties all by himself. There’s an honestly
retro swing, jangle and stomp to Tie Your Noose that’s more than faithful
enough to lift this well above the quality of countless hack garage acts. But instead of bopping along squeaky clean-like
there’s a definite Hasil Adkins edge here that makes it all the more dementedly appealing – think of a backwoods
Buddy Holly with a couple of goofballs in him and you get the picture. The replayable “Don’t Hold Out On Me”
would be equally at home on the soundtrack of Animal House or a homemade kidnapping
video, and “Tie Your Noose” and “Burn This Town” are particularly crazed, but the entire album is
an inspired performance. Bravo.
* * * *
Bomp
Records – www.bomp.com – P.O. Box 7112, Burbank, CA, 91510
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I would say that
the vocals on “Black Beauty” had a foxy Joan Jett / Texas Terri growl to them, but somebody already made the Joan
Jett connection. I think you get the idea, anyway – this is randy rock & roll with a shot or two of punk pop to
it. It’s not just all about sex appeal however, as the crunch and shine of “Hold You In Hell,” the follow-up
to the lusty title track, attests. “Hit Parade” cleverly uses its own poppy “La-la, la-la-la-la-la”
chorus against itself, “Kicked Machine” is a 4.5 minute dirty romance, “Pretty Baby” is a sweet and
sour number about which another favorable reference has already been made, and is closely matched by the following “Paper
Doll” before the album closes with the wistful drive of “Runaway Son.” And of course, being from Philadelphia, PA there’s the obligatory “Hostile City” track. Melodic singalongs and slinky clean instrumentation make this a little more
radio-friendly than the kinky cover art might indicate, and the lack of a lyric sheet makes it difficult to determine exactly
how subversive, horny, or mainstream Beretta76 actually is. Personally I’d prefer it to be either more raunchy or melancholy,
but to paraphrase the man, they’ve got a job to do and they do it well.
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This disc is so far from the early S.U.i.Z.i.D.
that if it weren’t for the logo I’d be unsure if this was even the same band. The drugged goth-punk wailing of
that schizophrenic era has been directed into a more cinematic industrial metal style, one that initially sounds like an attempt
to wed Rammstein and Rotting Christ in “Aalmutter.” Fortunately it’s not all one long progression of posturing,
as there is some inventive variety to be found in subsequent tracks. “Allegoria” picks up a great and grinding
beat, but only in its sixth and final minute, there are harder portions in the oddly titled “Knochenkorn” and
the frantic thrashings of “Dr. Miezo,” creepy guest vocals by Toby on “Frl. Deutsch,” while “Im
Sog” is a truly weird pop song, something like a German impression of a Japanese Queens of the Stone Age. I still favor
the suicidal damage of the earlier Bethlehem,
but for those who’ve been waiting for them to stride forward into the 21st Century Mein Weg will be a welcome release.
* * *
Red
Stream, Inc. – www.redstream.org – P.O. Box 196242, Winter Springs, FL, 32719-6242
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BEYOND SENSORY EXPERIENCE – The Dull Routine of Existence
Taking industrial music to almost sacred heights, Beyond Sensory Experience
brings forth a shadowy ambiance with The Dull Routine of Existence, infusing its
very topic with an occult life force guaranteed to change that routine. Mastered as if it were recorded in some high-vaulted
sanctuary, even the anticipated drones and mechanical surges are given a gravity that poignantly adds to the moaning rhythms
evoked throughout the performance. Most of the work is subtle and atmospheric, but at its peaks evokes an independent horror
film soundtrack. Inspiration for meditation, and vice-versa.
* * *
Cold
Meat Industry – www.coldmeat.se – Villa Eko, 595 42 Mjolby, Sweden
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From the almighty Worldeater Records, whose Hellblock 6 has become a regular
wall-shaker here at Paniscus HQ, comes Bitchslicer with the coolest soundtrack to hell you’ll ever be privileged to
hear. A full-length 19-track that combines multiple recording sessions and tacks on a few surprises, this is some pretty bitchin’
shit – the harshest of death metal conducted in an ‘80s heavy metal style. In fact it’s almost hair metal
in some places, retrieved from the edge of cheese by a hot beef injection of the Misfits. “Drag My Own Coffin to Hell”
contains one of the most elemental anthems in all of metal (“Die! Die! Die motherfucker, die!”), “King Cobra
– Ode to Thrash” is an instantly classic instrumental that’s joined in status by “Touch of Death,”
there are a couple of “Instrumental Movie Version” headbangers (“Snuffed” and “Evil Awakening,”
both of which also appear on the album with awesome vocals intact), while “Outrun the Fire” and “Long Live
the End” take a surprisingly favorable death-folk turn. Livened up with cartoon music, soundbytes, “This is Satan”
(“Drunken Phone Call – Session”) and a Hank Williams tune (“Y.C.H.”), not to mention some great
graphics, this is fucking brilliant all the way around.
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BLACKTOP – I Got a Baaad Feelin' About This
I’ve Got a Baaad Feelin’ About This opens up with such a fine sound of dirty blues echoing through
deserted truckstop garages, with such a fine blurry edge to it all, that I was almost sorry to hear the vocals creep in. But
their strung-out moaning wails sing such a slow sandpaper song of lowdown love beaten black and blue, stabbed with feedback
and left in a neon-lit pool of wet asphalt that it’s absolutely all right. A rockabilly/R&B brawl in progress, I’ve Got . . . includes the murderous dissatisfaction slicing through “Planet
Earth (@#*!!)”, the burlesque mugging of the cover instrumental “From Beyond,” and the mean-ass rumble of
“No One Knows You’re A Dog,” while “Hide and Go Seek” lightens things up a bit and the classic
beats of “She’s Mine All Mine” and “Keep On Doggin’ Me” will have hips a-swingin’
right into the blues of “Let Me Go Home, Whiskey.” Subtitled “The Complete Recordings,” I’ve Got . . . does indeed collect ‘em all, from the original disc of the same title to B-sides and
the Australian Up All Night album. In among the original compositions by Mick Collins
and crew are traditional and cover tunes, and all are infused with an urban jungle stomp that, if you heard it emanating from
a dive on the locals-only side of town, you’d be both compelled and afraid to enter. Enough, and good enough, to scramble
your speakers and curdle your gin & milk.
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BOYSKOUT – School of Etiquette
I was initially put off by Boyskout somewhat due to their appearance on a compilation I
didn’t much care for; that and the fact that I seem to be outside of their apparent demographic, the young goth-punk
lesbian crowd. Nothing wrong with that however (aside from the fact that some of the songs on School of Etiquette seem to be moaners about uneasy girl-girl relationships, and regardless of gender that kind
of thing gets tired after a while), and giving the disc a spin found it to be full of lightly dark new wave compositions with
an alluringly subdued and seductive tone to them. Subtle synthesizer strains provide something of a druggy Eighties dance
club atmosphere throughout, without overpowering the songs or their breathy vocals. “Eye Make Up” is particularly
slow and sedate, “Sunday Morning” has a low and lusty beat to it, and “Circus Song” is a beautifully
black suicidal carnival dirge, all of which notably stand out among the album’s twelve tracks. (CD is enhanced with
a video for the song “Back to Bed.”)
* * *
Alive Records – P.O. Box 7112, Burbank, CA, 91510
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BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE – ...And This Is Our Music
Part One: Note the album cover; now, although you can’t see it, note the album’s
rear cover: “So young, so brave. So totally right on from the fucking get go.” Now note that I don’t think
I’m going to be able to review this right now.
Part Two: NOW I can. Sorry for the wait, but really, how eager are you going to be to listen
to a band billing itself as “So young, so brave. So totally right on from the fucking get go”? Go get fucked,
right? But their last couple Brian Jonestown Massacre discs were beautiful things, so once I got over the righteous self-promotion
of the packaging and press materials I was ready to give this a spin. And, after a whiny answering machine message, BJM plugs
in and proceeds to do their finely tuned sedative-hypnotic thing. Getting a little bit Donovan/Beatles-sounding on “Starcleaner,”
they cop Brion Gysin for “Here To Go,” drift away into “Prozac vs. Heroin” and get really down with
“A New Low in Getting High,” bring in the horns and an Ennio Morricone theremin sound for the lovely instrumental
“Maryanne,” reprise “Sailor” instrumentally as “Some Things Go Without Saying,” and space
out for “The Pregnancy Test.” The strum und drang of this world of pills & love sounds a lot more relaxed
than on previous outings, and there are a few more small experimental interludes between pieces, but the album still maintains
that heavy continental drift that makes for dreamy dope music. Those who have heard them before will definitely want to hear
this, and those who have not will doubtless want another taste.
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BRIGHTER DEATH NOW – Kamikaze Kabaret
A new serving of churning industrial drone from stalwart Brighter Death Now.
Bleak soundtracks for date rape and dismemberment, this selection throbs with painful menace from beginning to end across
tracks such as “Oh Baby (I Want to Throw Up),” “Crimescene Nostalgia,” “While You Sleep”
and the rest. “Testing” is an almost soothing hypnotic piece of work, but in the context of the rest of the album
carries an aura of subliminal spite; “Big Happy Family” brings in muted voices of implication that the arrangement
is anything but; and the multiple vocal tracks of the closing “Take Me Away” will have you thinking you’re
hearing things – and you are. Play loud – loud enough to bend brainwaves. (Great album title too, by the way.)
* * *
Cold
Meat Industry – www.coldmeat.se – Villa Eko, 595 42 Mjolby, Sweden
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THE BUSINESS – Hardcore Hooligan
Even if you don’t give a wee rat’s arse for football (soccer to us, mate),
these twelve Hardcore Hooligan chants will still put you in the mood to kick shit out of something. From the rabble-rousing
gang-stomping title track (“F-U, F-U-C, F-U-C-K, FUCK YOU!”) The Business rails on against the national pasttime
becoming big business at the expense of the fans, champions their heroes (“Viva Bobby Moore”), boos rivals and
cheats (“Handball”), and remembers the epics (“England 5 – Germany 1”), all the while promoting
drinking (“Guinness Boys,” with a little bit up pub piano tinkling in the background) and, yes, ultra-violent
oi-style football hooliganism (“Saturday’s Heroes,” “Boys Are Out Tonight”). And every one of
‘em is a hard, mean, streetpunk kick-up as rousing as a cleat to the head, ringing with pint-raising singalongs and
incitements of violence. Good times!
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BUZZOV*EN – Revelation...Sick Again
Frenetically driving stonercore from stalwarts of grind metal Buzzov*En, spattered
with soundbytes and gut-ripping riffs. This weighs in as one big heavy track so individual songs aren’t always easy
to distinguish, but the cutting grooves delineate themselves most satisfactorily and, after all, “All words and lyrics
are merely thoughts and ramblings during periods of frustration, depression, hopelessness, drug induced misery and confusion,
and like always are subject to change anytime without notice.” The howling wail of drug induced misery is perhaps the
loudest here, speaking volumes about the goodness of bad times and urging the listener to roll right on in. Go on, go ahead…
(Limited edition of 100 discs.)
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CD TRUTH – Chemically Dependent
C.D. Truth seems to having a gloatingly good time as they twist and bang out their three-chord
joy, reveling in old school punk rock glory with a sneer here, a bit of sarcasm there, and a whole lot of noise in between.
Shades of the Angry Samoans, The Meatmen, and the Circle Jerks resound throughout Chemically Dependent, but not in
a cheesy derivative way, more in a sense of the similarity to their energy and sense of humor. But there’s a spooky
edge here as well, as evinced with the hauntingly jagged “Queen of Blood,” and the enigmatic closer “Bubble
Up!” has an eerie, spaced-out quality that’s strangely at odds with its perky title. “Fact of Life,”
“Your Mama Found Out,” “No Retreat,” and “Columbian Drug Lord” are all loud and fun, and
to the best of my knowledge no other band has composed a jaunty punk ditty called “Follow Me to Akron.” Honorable
peers of modern top-notch punkers like Smogtown (R.I.P.), C.D. Truth definitely derserves a listen. Really coulda used a lyric
sheet though . . .
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CONSUMED – Pistols at Dawn
Quick, bright punkcore songs about feelings, relationships, and beating the hell out of
people. Sharp, solid, well-performed and well-produced stuff, although aside from simply being good Consumed isn’t particularly
distinctive. Except for something of an emo/straight edge ring to the album that gives it a ‘tough-but-sensitive’
kind of sound, albeit in a sexually ambivalent way (all of the lyrics about “you” never address anyone in particular,
but song titles include “Glory Hole” and “Gentle Persuasion”). And curiously, it all ends on an odd
but not entirely unpleasant new wave/steel drum synth piece? Whatever, bottom line is that Pistols at Dawn is a damn
fine album, make of it whatever you will.
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COPH NIA – The Dark Illuminati
A subtle electronic thunderstorm opens this “Celestial
Tragedy in Two Acts,” as a dark church bell’s mournful tolling rings out again and again only to be swallowed
up by the turbulent background. The first act in its entirety is titled “The End,” and it suitably realizes this
calling by providing a fittingly sorrowful totentanz of synthetic strings and hidden
choirs of black monastic voices. This rises to an infernal peak, reaching a crescendo of self-immolation that sears it all
to a blackened end. At over 15 minutes long the composition does stretch out, but at the same time also provides a brief framework
for ritual activity. Act Two contains seven separate tracks, both originals and covers. “The New Oath” begins
on a spoken word tone, but quickly builds into a sermon supported by backing vocals and strong instrumentation; Arthur Brown’s
classic “Fire” has a hellish carousel sound that Anton LaVey would no doubt appreciate; “Credo V”
contains a distinctive tribal rhythm supported by multiple layers of percussion and vocals ideally suited for dancing around
the fire on a foggy moor; “Drinking to the Angel of the East” is another beautiful piece; and find-tuned angelic
female vocals drive the dichotomous “Religion.” Even “Sympathy for the Devil” gets the royal treatment
here in a faithful homage. The album concludes with a line from “Hymn to Lucifer,” “The key of joy is disobedience.”
Coph Nia’s output has been somewhat hit or miss over the years, but it’s gratifying to hear that this album is
one of the good ones in that it is unapologetically and gloriously Satanic, not to mention well performed. I would even call
it their best effort to date.
* * * *
Cold Meat Industry – www.coldmeat.se – Villa Eko, 595 42 Mjolby, Sweden
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COUNTRY TEASERS – Live Album (Yeah)
The lumbering beauty and ever-unexpectedness of the Country Teasers live is
captured here on disc, and not just from one show but with excerpts of over a dozen laying themselves across 18 tracks here.
The dismal history of “Prettiest Slave on the Barge,” the almost “Live and Let Die” chord progression
of “Black Change,” the covers of “Short People” (a movingly multi-facted rendition which comes with
plenty of audience participation – “You suck! YOU SU-UUCK!!!”) and the immortal “Moving to Florida”
(and the questionably mortal “Blue Monday”), the Day-Trippin’ misanthropy of “Please Stop Fucking
Each Other” and the equally kind “Women & Children First,” all are presented LIVE with all the stop-and-start
choreographed improvisation of the recordings. And then some. So get some.
* * *
In the Red Records – P.O.
Box 50777, Los Angeles, CA, 90050
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DARKEST HOUR – Hidden Hands of a Sadist Nation
I’ve been bagging on a number of Victory releases lately, particularly the softer
albums aimed at a more juvenile demographic. But with this album I’ve been put in my place: although initially Hidden
Hands of a Sadist Nation sounds just like any other explosion of industrial-strength thrash metal lorded over by a maniac
with shattered vocal chords, Darkest Hour manages to incorporate enough savagely subtle rhythm into each domineering piece
that the tracks are not only fiercely distinct but also imposingly complex. By the second song, “Pay Phones and Pills,”
the adept blend of speed, violence, and melody within this Swedish metal hybrid is so viciously catchy that it’s truly
surprising, and songs like “Seven Day Lie” (with its sick choral cursing “I hope this happens to you”)
and “The Misinformation Age” will practically make you want to chew your own head off. Guest performances by members
of The Haunted, Soilwork, and At The Gates enhance the project and add to its ferocity, while the epic instrumental “Veritas,
Aequitas” closes the album on a somber but majestic note and at the same time effortlessly shows up stadium-metal candyasses
Metallica for the posturing radio whores that they are. God DAMN this is good.
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(HOME)


tmcrites@earthlink.net
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