Sepultura - Roots (1995)

I'll always prefer the thrashier days of 'Arise' but 'Roots' is one hell of a clever record, going beyond the traditional metal grind and swatting away the death metal values to be suddenly a unique experience in tribal mayhem. This is futuristic, true 'new metal' as such, a whole new world of angry sounds, blastbeats and arrogance that blasts every competitor out of the water, raising the bar and the stakes, but remaining unrivalled. For me, Sepultura were always unfulfilling to my ears, their brand of Brazilian thrash never edgy enough to dislodge the more frantic bayings of the U.S. bands, but 'Roots' is a whole new board game, combining real tribal chantings with thunderous metal, this is native, urban chaos mixed with heavy rock grumblings, the band recognising the shift as the mid-'90s scene swayed away from the old school and towards a more commercial market, not that 'Roots' is a commercial record but this certainly has nods to bands such as Korn rather than Venom as previous records may have, 'Roots' making Metallica's late career output seemingly embarrassing by comparison. Main cut 'Roots Bloody Roots' is the band's tribal 'Raining Blood', a truly gargantuan earthquake of a track that has become an anthem, and yet 'Roots' was to be the last record with Max on vocals, the band pretty much disappearing down the pan and Max continuing his warfare with Soulfly.

Simply purchase 'Roots', no real point in pondering on the bands tribal evil, but I promise you that you won't be disappointed with such a mountain of a record. File alongside Machine Head 'Burn My Eyes' and Fear Factory's 'Soul Of A New Machine' for a shifting of the elements and see why Slayer got left behind.

8.5/10

Enuff Z Nuff - Tweaked (1995)

After the Hollywood hair days of their previous records, Chip and Donnie somehow invent this bubblegum rock classic, combining the swanky swagger of the Stones, the sugar pop of The Beatles and all manner of British influences, 'Tweaked' is pure genius, yet completely misunderstood, hence the bands tragic career of unfulfilled brilliance which should have been filling stadiums long after Bon Jovi had cast their cowboy boots aside.

'Tweaked' is a pure rock 'n' roll record, from the mystical openings of 'Stoned', Vie is in exceptional Lennon form, his fragile tones caressing the swirling guitars creating a bewildering mix of summery pop and jingle-jangle harmony akin to The Beach Boys and The Sweet, with the occasional riff of The Who thrown in for good measure amongst the sleaze of the Faces. It's memorable, retro and timeless and so genuine and from the heart, these are real songs, personal anthems and tear-jerking ballads, particularly 'Its Too Late', to the more metallic stomp of 'Style' and ballsy roll of 'Mr Jones', truly mesmeric material from a band who had enough gems to top every chart in every country.

Slot this alongside Saigon kick for lush wonder, and even Oasis for its ability to reinvent styles that have gone before but present to you songs like they are true old friends who've come back to remind you of how great everything used to be. 'My Dear Dream' is simply The Beatles 'A Day In The Life', but equally as rewarding whilst 'Life Is Strange' simpler and rockier. You never know what you're going to get next with Enuff Z Nuff, because since this masterpiece they've made a career out of writing amazing albums that much of the world won't hear, and that's a huge shame.

9.5/10

Kik Tracee - Field Trip (1992)

Tragically, this EP was to be the last offering from this short-lived outfit, but for what it's worth, Kik Tracee made a wonderful noise, a swaggering, pompous glammed up cauldron of serious yet good time rock that was just too good to exist, and so, the dodgy bands such as Poison et al, charged on, leaving this creative bunch to welter in their own unfulfilled ego's. Shame.

'Field Trip' is a jangly, Beatle-esque and breezy half-hour nip to groove rock, blessed by Shareaux's velvet tones, some cool summery riffs and mighty anthems in-between, somewhere caressing Zeppelin's bluesy jig and such promising metal edge, but where did it all go wrong ? Who knows, just savour the band and their two-record career, at one relaxing, thought provoking and potent, and please try to track the albums down, probably residing in some bargain bin on the internet, pick them up and appreciate good rock 'n' roll...

8/10

Candlemass - Ancient Dreams (1988)

Without question, my favourite Candlemass record, a must have on vinyl due not only to its wistful artwork, but the sheer weight of its riffs. This is pure doom, possibly an acquired taste as Messiah Marcolin's operatic vocals soar above the slo-mo laments, but this is unique, a smooth almost beautiful brand of epic doom metal, original and as atmospheric as some old crumbling monastery. 'Darkness In Paradise', 'Bearer Of Pain' and 'A Cry From The Crypt' just some of the mournful juggernauts on offer, shrouded in more fog than an autumn churchyard, the bells droning out across the ruins, black figures floating from the crevices. Candlemass were always different, never intent on rehashing old Sabbath riffs but instead romancing the eardrums with epic records such as this.

8.5/10

Dark Angel - Time Does Not Heal (1990)

After the bone-crushing rifferama that was 'Leave Scars', Dark Angel somehow invented something even more monstrous, an album of some 246 riffs to match the mighty early offerings of Slayer. 'Time Does Not Heal' stands alone, bridging the gap between death metal, thrash and traditional heavy metal, decades later it still remains as fresh and as punishing, but unlike bands such as Slayer who since their classic days have attempted, but failed miserably, to bring those days back, Dark Angel tragically folded after this classic record, but looking back, it was probably for the best, the band reaching a titanic peak on this record.

The album weighs in at almost seventy-minutes, each track touches at least six minutes, several clocking in at over seven minutes, but not once will you get bored by this juggernaut. Hoglan's drumming is enough of an excuse to just lay back and be swallowed by this massive beast of brutality. 'Time...' is wonderfully complex, ragingly psychotic yet also accessible, vocally Rinehart takes us to a more traditional yell rather than something attempting evil, his social commentary backed up by musicianship that can only be described as epic and mighty, the tracks woven together by a labyrinth of riffs. The lyrics seemingly complex, leaving you bemused at how the guy manages to remember it all, dark tales of reality, seedy streets and homicidal rage, and yet this is so, so different from everything else the genre has ever had to offer, truly monstrous.

Favourite track on the record is the stalking 'Psychosexuality', a creeping heavyweight serial killer of a tune, but pick out any of the nine slabs on offer and you'll drowned in the ocean of muscular power.

Dark Angel remain untouchable, true genre defining metal that matured beyond the scene, so the fact that such a sound was tragically cut short remains an almost romantic echo of a time when thrash/death metal was ahead of its game and Dark Angel were true leaders of the field.

9/10

Mayhem - De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas (1993)

The wave of early '90s black metal, particular from the frozen Scandinavian wastes, was at once suffocating yet irritating once a thousand bands had daubed themselves with corpsepaint and cried grimly into the forests of night. But there was a time, like with most musical genres, when something so fresh and new opened the eyes of many and stood above the rest. After the punky harshness of 'Deathcrush', 'De Mysteriis...' emerged, a black, consuming blanket of gloom from Norway's inhospitable woodlands, where the snows rape harshly the flesh of man, and the most genuinely evil of noise was constructed.

'De Mysteriis...' is one of the black metal classics, without question. One part Bathory with its dense yet almost tinny riffing, yet another part so remote and cold beyond the wildest nightmares of heavy metal's primal past. This is way beyond Venom's jokey drunken evil, and instead remains untouched in its grim void.

Step forward original black metal god of the inner circle, Euronymous, clad in black, face daubed like some miserable orc, yet his band making a terrible noise from the tundra that only Darkthrone could match. 'Funeral Fog', is a hyper blitz, the vocals almost muffled in their obscure evil, the guitars a rancid, grating buzz before the band slow it down for the ominous 'Freezing Moon'. Eerie stuff, blessed with an atmosphere devoid of life, screaming in its black hate and forever intoxicating the brain.

This is true black metal from a time when heavy metal grew out of its satanic imagery and got serious.

8/10

Darkthrone - A Blaze In The Northern Sky (1992)

When it came, like black smoke across the pallid sky, no-one was prepared. We had heard the black metal vibrations from past bands, but little did we sense from the death metal-orientated debut 'Soulside Journey', that Darkthrone would go on to become the leaders of the most evil black metal noise known to man, true warriors of the Norwegian discipline from the grim snows and falling, long shadows.

'A Blaze...' first reared its head to me on a Peaceville Records sampler cassette and the the gurgling incantations spewed that same filth as Bathory's stuffy 'The Return', and as the guitars ripped into 'In The Shadow Of the Horns' there was the unsettling feeling that a caustic, enveloping wave had hit the shores and things would never be the same again.

Metal fans were being bombarded by the grunge scene and just getting over the crunching death metal fad, but no-one expected such a nasty, overwhelming scene as black metal to re-emerge with such a vengeance.

Darkthrone hit the headlines, their interviews as vicious as the snarling vocals that screamed from this cesspit of a record. Many so-called metal fans ran for cover, others truly turned their noses up at such a guffaw, but deep down they all took note that black metal was alive, sweeping through the forests, a sinister pack of wolves at the door, an eerie vocal disharmony, truly wicked lyrics and a grating, bass-bereft sound so harsh and cold that only the frozen hills of Scandanavia could hold it.

Those who have appreciated the vile velocity of 'A Blaze...' have described the record as something akin to shutting ones eyes and being taken by complete pitch darkness. And that's the best description of a movement that, although like so many others became over crowded, remains so potent in the folklore of metal, and standing goat head and shoulders above the rest are Darkthrone, Fenriz and Nocturno Culto, creators of one of metal's most putrid and hideous records. There is nothing blacker.

Hail!

8.5/10