Blackened thrash and throwback heavy metal bands are amongst the hardest to mess up, being in such great abundance that it's sometimes equally hard to find ones that stand above their peers. More often than not, it's that "blackened heavy" balance that strikes a real chord, however Dallas's Myth Carver might manage to sidestep any of this by treading that traditional ground that just feels, simply extreme? The lone EP Twist Of Fate could be boiled down to a really aggressive USPM effort, but the sheer feeling of this suggests otherwise. I wouldn't describe this as anything in the actual extreme camp, but the energy could certainly hold a flame to those styles.
In other words, this is stylistically a heavy metal effort of only four tracks that breezes by in under twenty minutes, but has an aura so fierce and a writing style so captivating that I can't help but praise its ambition. Underneath the extremely loud production, echoed soundscapes, menacing falsettos, and crushing rhythms lies a fair amount of melody and passion. When things settle down briefly, the vocals boast such a concise ear for pitch that fits with the angrier punches as easily as the toned-down ones. Thus, every track comes off with superior fervor that is really rare for an act so early in its development, releasing only singles before this.
"Untamed Steel" starts us off with no warning, matching its title to what could trick somebody into thinking you're in for a thrash banger, considering the speed, grit, and power that channels through such raw energy. If you had any doubts, "Thunderkill" follows this up with a more obvious nod towards emotion, sneaking in clearer vocals without letting go any of the rage that carry the riffs. Similarly, "Shadow Firmament" assaults the listener with power-stance rhythms, baking in a wonderfully timed solo that yet again, doesn't let go of the power but manages to make the gang-chant chorus feel organic, stripped of any campiness. "Iron Helm" then closes us off on a similar note, if not caking on harsher vocals a little heavier.
The sheer fact that I struggle with categorizing Myth Carver is all I really need to know that we've got something unique sounding. Traditional metal is very much a spectrum, but it's quite rare that it showcases such a mean playing field without entering the extreme boundaries, and if that's not enough, Twist Of Fate backs it with memorable songwriting too. If power metal around myth, history and nerdy shit actually sounded as threatening as it often tries to, this would be the outcome. Do not sleep on this.
The recent film known as Backrooms might be one of the most interesting movies to come out in several years, if for no other reason than its falling action. It wraps up its plot by suggesting distortions of banal objects of life as slight jogs in memory, representing the way the mind often chooses how to remember something, be it from a narrative, trauma, or weird facets of nostalgia. It seems that in the now forty years since Slayer's Reign In Blood hit the market, people who were around for it or retrospectively look back to their discovery of it see it as something different than what it really is, which I posit is around a narrative of one of two things. Either the entire thing is non-memorable and just focuses on extreme speeds in exchange for songwriting, save for the bookends, or it's an unstoppable force of aggression that sidestepped even Hell Awaits and paved the path for death metal.
I think both takes are absurd. It really isn't that deep.
Prior to its release, the Bay Area giants had already been crafting thrash metal with extreme speed, ghastly delivery, and horrific subject matter around Satan, Hell, death, and torment. The only thing that really divorces Reign In Blood on a structural level from its predecessors is its more refined production, and swift songwriting. Indeed, only three tracks surpass the three minute mark, and two of them are the classic bookenders that everyone gives a pass when analyzing the record. But I shrewdly reject that the meat of the album is either completely forgettable or taken to a new level. Instead, Slayer's third record is simply an evolution of what they've been doing, landing at the right place at the right time.
And that very thing is no-frills thrash metal. While often played fast, the genre doesn't necessarily have to follow the speed metal template in all of its songs. Much of this record is built with a very sturdy, intentional foundation of swift transitions, catchy rhythms, compelling vocal delivery, and perhaps most importantly, remarkable timing. Extreme speeds, like in any record of the more aggressive thrash type, are merely an ingredient, even if some songs drive with that more than others. If there's anywhere this comes off as a fault, it might be in King's solos, as many of them blitz through with seemingly little rhyme or reason, failing to match the compelling nature of the crushing riffs, or Tom's equally menacing outbursts.
We'll start first with "Criminally Insane," likely my favorite song on the record. A steady drive makes up almost all of this song's genius, cramming several phases into less than three minutes' time that I seldom see pulled off so well. Lombardo's simple drum-echo leading into the also simple rhythm breaks perfectly into the faster meat of the song, before returning to this for its "take your fuckin' life!" bridge. In other words, the speeds almost acted as a cover for a thicker impact that sticks in my head more than any other on the record. Of course, opener "Angel Of Death" is an obvious one, which also breaks in on some of the fastest speeds on the record. But the truth is, like with "Criminally Insane," the song's apex is the slow center that carries with concise riffing and poetic snarl that perfectly paints the horrific images of human experimentation; think of it as the abdomen of the song's proverbial body. Following "Piece By Piece" may be even more impressive in that vocally, it's one of the most comprehensible songs to be found, contrasting the breakneck rhythms nicely.
Such genius placement is found all over the place. "Alters Of Sacrifice" into "Jesus Saves" are an incredible center-piece, with the former yet again slowing down with purpose as a pummeling echo of its fast intro, letting the latter build gradual suspense before ripping into its otherwise simpler second half. "Postmortem" is another fun one, sometimes getting the same pass that "Raining Blood" gets, perhaps thanks to its thunderous move into that song's airy intro, but even ignoring that, "Raining Blood" really just adopts the same tactic of slow introduction, gradual build, and extreme frenzy inspired by the steadier riff. But I probably prefer "Postmortem" if for no other reason than the majority of it allows Tom's vocals to shine brighter than anywhere else, coinciding wonderfully with Hanneman's more precise ear.
All this leaves us with is three fillers, admittedly the more "forgettable" ones, which is what hurts this album more than some of the other classics. "Necrophobic" is possibly the one exception I'll lend to the randomness narrative, as the sub-two minute track quite literally does just feel like speed for speed's sake exercise, save for the last, what, ten seconds? "Reborn" and "Epidemic" are also underwhelming amidst the rest, representing a slight drop-off on the B-side before closing with menacing fervor. But with all of this said, I don't think any of them are bad, just far easier to overlook. At least they still fit the general vibe, utilizing the same type of layout with perhaps a little less magic.
Those three songs are likely what I owe the crux of how Reign In Blood is often remembered to. For some reason, it's like every song with obvious intent and careful placement, despite pacing nuances and poetic flow, get overlooked or lumped in with those. Or, they all just simply get a pass because "fuckin' Slayer!" and the speeds helped pave the path for more extreme genres. I don't buy it; I won't pretend that it's all listener error, or a lack of attention to detail, because for some of us, this style just doesn't quite land. But at the end of the day, I really don't think it's that deep. This was another thrash metal record, that continued the extreme speeds, crushing atmosphere, and jarring lyrics that had been around since Venom and Motorhead kicked things up a notch, and it landed at the right place at the right time. Additionally, most of the songs are just that fucking good! It isn't the extreme speeds that simply made (or didn't deserve) the impact, it's the songwriting, and the song delivery, in the same year that Metallica was taking the world by storm. Far simpler than we're ready to admit, it seems.
From time to time, I'll come across a band that manages to sell me more on their radio-legacy era than their earlier metal roots, being the opposite situation of what most metal enjoyers find themselves in. Denmark's Volbeat is one of those bands for me, as the groovy and pummeling grit of The Strength, The Sound, The Songs and its follow up do little for me save for a a few songs here and there. Perhaps owing to the awkwardness that may come from transitioning out of a now defunct death metal band's remnants, it would take three or four albums before Michael Poulson and co. found their footing. With that said, I find the first hint at what they wanted to be all about to be among some of their finest work, that being the third record titled Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood.
Considering the lyrical themes, album title, and artistic style, it became clear that it's this point in the game that Volbeat wanted to aim for that Cash-Metallica-Danzig hybrid that centers around storytelling and quasi-western energy. While hinted at before, things solidify here thanks to warmer guitar tones and a cleaner production that still prioritizes meaty rhythms and a powerful delivery. Much of the latter is owed to Poulson's signature bolt, but equally this contributes to the emotional pull and honest depth that goes into the structures, despite how simplistic they often are. The end result winds up being something that sounds awfully generic and gimmicky on paper (which would sneak up on them after a few mainstream albums) but at this stage truly feels refreshing and refined.
For the most part, that's thanks to the balance we find between the muscular oomph and the soothing clarity on the more emotional tracks. "Back To Prom" may be one of my favorite songs the band ever did, not even clocking in at two minutes but still driving strong melodies and convincing riffs under an otherwise melancholic and nostalgic vibe. Actually, reflections on a time well remembered seem to poke through pretty frequently on this record, tapped into nicely in the acoustic sadness of "We," and perhaps in a more energetic way on "Maybelline I Hofteholder." Hell, even the cover of Hank Williams' "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" seeps into the cracks so organically that what could have been disastrous winds up working beautifully.
Of course, Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood still holds plenty of meanness to represent its id. The band's first big hit "Still Counting" showcases this wonderfully, due to its seemingly harmless intro breaking into a furious rhythm that would fit right into a thrash metal record. Similarly, "Hallelujah Goat" rides on this same energy, and the title track opens things up with a shady attitude that sets the scene quite nicely. There is some obvious filler that holds this back just a tad bit, as cutting a track or two could have made things slightly less overblown, but not a note feels as though it's out of place or completely unflattering.
Thus, I like to see Guitar Gangsters & Cadillac Blood as a happy accident that gets overshadowed by everything around it. Its predecessors are often the only records a mainstream hater will bother with, while its follow-ups could almost be called "metal for people who don't like metal." Between the two is this gem, one that utilizes the western vibes without overdoing it, keeps the simplicity without going stale, and cakes on emotion without compromising the heavy bottom. The littlest shift in the wrong direction could have ruined everything, but whether intentional or not, Volbeat got it right this time. If you only listen to one of their albums, let it be this.
It's always fun to find what appears to be a good old throwback band in heavy metal's most population-dense country. Satan's Fall come from Finland, having held that name for about a decade and some lore prior to that as well. But it would be the album that flew under my radar a few years back that snagged my interest. Destination Destruction swept my attention from album art alone, if not for the band's name.
As quick as it may be to call them a throwback band, despite all of what would seem like obvious nods, Satan's Fall actually does little in the realm of capturing a classic feel. It would be more apt to describe them as falling into the more power metal oriented sphere, if anything throwing back perhaps to the '90s European sound while avoiding too many bells and whistles. Yet, the cleanliness in their delivery is pristine, matching the revival era of Judas Priest in tone and song structure. The outcome of their sophomore thus winds up being something that's caught between a throwback and a modern spin.
How this lands depends entirely on your mood. Frankly, I think the better numbers are the ones that dodge falsettos in exchange for catchier melodies and warmer flanks to do the lifting, like in "Garden Of Fire." Similarly, the near epic "Monster's Ball" slows things down and cools the jets to a point that's almost soothing while still fitting in. I also can't pretend that some songs don't strike this balance right in the middle, as "Swines For Slaughter" kicks out aggressive falsettos in an almost welcoming way. Its beefy leads certainly elevate it, and I could say the same effects are achieved in closer "Dark Star" opting for a oceanic flow from its guitars.
Ultimately, Destination Destruction is a sturdy and strong release that definitely requires a specific taste for melody and cleanliness that can be too much to some, but is helped by strong writing and compelling delivery. It would be fair to say that it's far friendlier than it looks, but that's not turned me away before. Fans of Blind Guardian, Savatage, Helloween, or later Judas Priest should find something worthwhile. After all, what else could you expect from a band that throws a Power Rangers cover on as a bonus track?
By this time in Twisted Sister's career, the band was in shambles over personal matters, if the un-sturdiness of Come Out And Play was anything to predict things off of. 1987's Love Is For Suckers was intended to be a Dee Snider solo work, but wound up with the Twisted Sister name due to record label obligations, and mixed participation from Jay Jay, Eddie, and the rest. Despite being the least well-received record from the band's classic run, I'll take the bold path and say that I still think it's a step up from its predecessor. Sure, it's about as campy and predictable as it looks, but sometimes that works well.
My personal guess is that because Dee Snider more or less wound up as the mastermind behind this, there was less room for awkwardness and a better path for a straight vision. Said vision is what we'll call the most obvious pop-friendly record in the band's discography. I wouldn't go as far as calling it soft, but considering the band's reputation as one of the meaner and heavier bands in the glam metal field, this is very clearly the most fitting of that title. Harder structures aren't absent, but they're sharing a lot of space with emphasis on melody, emotion, and commercial accessibility.
And it's a shame that Love Is For Suckers didn't really land the hits like it could have, because I think they're the most standout tunes here. Leading single "Hot Love" still holds Dee's booming delivery and big drum-kicks the band became known for, but the softer backing licks that ride beside the verses tap into some vibrance rare even for the genre. To the opposite end, the power ballad "You Are All That I Need" is criminally overlooked, as its pre-chorus and build into the gang-chorus lets it be one of my favorite hair band ballads of the time. Admittedly, "Me And The Boys" may be one of the more obvious cheese-fillers here, but I'm not about to pretend that it doesn't scratch the fun itch really nicely.
Still, within the cracks of the standout tunes still lies some grittier songs than you'd expect. The reimagining of Gary Private's "Love Is For Suckers" that wound up taking the album title rides on some muscular riffs and snarling attitude that we're all familiar with. I even dig the closing "Yeah Right!" with its pummeling rhythms and heavy energy, despite its silliness. Conversely, you will have to get through a few glaring fillers that aren't even accidently good, like the embarrassingly generic "I'm So Hot For You," or the cartoonish "One Bad Habit," but I suppose they at least fits the overall vibe nicely?
I'm not here to pretend that Twisted Sister's final classic outing is a hidden gem that got unfair criticism, as there are certainly some laughable aspects to this (starting with the album art). But that aside, I do think it's a little over-hated, is far more linear and thought-out than its predecessor, and has some material worth seeking out. After all, it's not like thirty-eight minutes is that demanding of one's time. Take away what you will, but I think this aged like wine.
