Slayer - South Of Heaven (1988)

Arguably Slayer's greatest, darkest triumph, many fans arguing for hours whether it should be slotted above the ghastly 'Reign In Blood', or below, but either way, 'South...' dressed in its horrifyingly over the top sleeve, is one of the greatest heavy metal records of all time, drenched in crimson and splattered by bone fragments, a black commentary on all that's wrong with the world, tackling political issues, and the usual harsh realities.
Only Slayer, Kerry King and Jeff Hanneman, in particular, could get away with the frantic fretwork they continue to bleed through the speakers, but in Dave Lombardo they express one one of the genres greatest drummers, his beats extremely original and distinctive as they rise, shuffle and boom behind the screams, yowls, and dark echoes of Tom Araya's vile vocalisations.
'South Of Heaven' is a mutilated mixture of Sabbath's darkest, most woeful tidings, adorned in psychotic structures similar to 'Reign In Bloods' aggression and hate but slowed down a notch, this time oozing from the speakers like a black tide.
Lyrically, there was no match for Slayer, unfortunately Araya's morbid prose were often cast aside by King's war torn ramblings which, in my opinion, spelt trouble for the band.
The title track builds with menace, a descent into Hell, that only heightens with the chorus, but throughout remains a potent, hideous and arrogant machine, a well oiled killing machine that decimates with ease. 'South Of Heaven' is so huge and serpent-like, it writhes, wrapping all in its leathery coils, standing alone like some luciferian deity amongst a world of smoking rubble and bloody rivers. 'Silent Scream', a charging warhorse, 'Live Undead', another slow, eerie build up that melts away into the hellish 'Behind The Crooked Cross', and at once we have forgotten the gored pleasures of 'Reign...' and are becoming tainted by this new abysmal void of blackness.
'Mandatory Suicide' is the classic cut, a brutal insight into a wretched war zone where innocent men are sent to die, wrapped up by Araya's bleak and alarming narrative.
There's not a weak track on here, 'Ghosts Of War' opening with discordant riffing, bursting into flame and uglied by the despicable chorus. Even more impressive is the cover of Judas ''Dissident Aggressor', a slow-paced, creeping serial killer of a cut that lurks, slinks and then moves in for the kill, pretty much the whole theme behind this never wavering trip into the very annals of horror, death, destruction and social disgust.
This glides into the Top Ten of all time on black, leather wings, but whether you survive the strike is what remains to be seen.
10/10