The follow up to 'Considered Dead'. Another heart-warming slab of brutal, technical US death metal. For me it brings to mind summer skies, as a host of US death metal acts swallowed the metal scene in the early '90s. Gorguts at the time were cast as just another band (albeit from Canada), but looking back well over a decade later you can appreciate the tight musicianship and aggressive nature of this bludgeoning beast of a record.
I can see the straight metal heads and glam-metallers running to the safety of their parent's arms as Gorguts burst through the barriers and blitz the place, leaving human debris all over the shop. If you can see beyond the guttural abomination and sit through this slab of carnage, you'll wonder at the high speed riffs, and be grateful for the bruising yet complex drumming, and find so much more to chew on than the facade you feared so much.
Highly talented are Gorguts, make no bones about it, 'The Erosion...' won't appeal to everyone, but if heavy, brutal death metal is your thing then you'll be salivating over this opus. It's no thrills to some extent, slotting alongside the likes of Monstrosity, but lacking say the identity of an Obituary, but over the decades bands such as this have remained far more potent and consistent than the so-called big bands, and it's bands such as Gorguts which keep the scene alive.
'The Erosion..' is not as straight forward as the debut, it's intricate guitars interwoven with morbid yet frantic drums, and Luc's gruff bellow lift this into the realms which the band would rule several years after. 'Orphans Of Sickness' and 'Path Beyond Premonition' are mighty slabs of infested rage, excellently structured and perfectly executed. However, to the ear of the naive this may sound just like another death metal record, but the beauty with this type of death metal is it's ability to not only pound the skull, but mesmerise with its complicated rhythms. It's not easy to sell death metal to the uninitiated but for those who appreciate Gorguts and this style of extreme music, they'll find 'The Erosion...' a weighty platter and monstrous listen.
7.5/10
Slightly more sniping record than the follow up 'Unattractive Revolution'. This is mainly down to Dave Leppard's more sleazed vocals and the heavier riffs. This is a quality sleaze metal album, bringing to mind just about everyone from G 'n' R to Crue, the latter evident on the 'Needle In Your Eye' opening groove.
Anthemic choruses, big hair, swaggering riffs and those chanted choruses, hell, it's good time metal with a few cliche's, but it never resorts to cheese to get through. It's nice to hear this kind of balls to the wall metal being belted out even if you knwo what's coming next. No real surprises in store, but who cares, Crash Diet like to rock. It's a shame they weren't around in the heyday of hair metal as I guess that nowadays it's more difficult to be taken seriously, but if you like your metal stinkin' of the '80s, then check this out.
7/10
Cool rock 'n' roll band, combining Guns 'n' Roses, Skid Row and a whole host of straight sleaze, rock 'n' roll metal acts. I don't know a lot about these guys but with Mick Mars featuring on a couple of songs it's gotta rock. This is the band's second opus after 'Rest In Sleaze' debut. The band are now fronted by Olliver Twisted after the death of the original vocalist.
I have to admit I expected this to be a party sleaze record, but it's cooler than that. Combining some reasonably heavy rockers with attitude and swagger, this could slot well alongside the more frenzied Brides Of Destruction and G 'n' R, the latter coming to mind on 'Like A Sin'. Some may even find a few Def Leppard comparisons, especially on 'Overnight' and 'Bound To Be Enslaved' with the synthesized, anthemic vocal effect. 'Buried Song' reminds me of Skid Row in its swagger, and fans of these kind of bands will find much to savour in Crash Diet's ballsy rock sound.
Reasonably uplifting in a way. And slightly more sugar-coated than the debut.
7/10
Indeed, many may fail to recall these hair sprayed hellraisers from their brief stint during the late '80s, but shame on you. Soho Roses provide the swagger, the sleaze and the lipstick groove to please any fans of the New York Dolls, Hanoi Rocks and the likes. Not strictly metal, but with a sneering punky edge, this makes for a great bubblegum party record, and also proves that the UK was always offering straight up rock 'n' roll even if the US stuff was hitting MTV.
This London four-piece are a cult act who deserve more recognition. 'Just A Girl' and 'Sweet Sixteen' are glam punk stompers that's have ya back combing that hair in a second and plastering the mirror with lipstick. Not startlingly original, we know where we're at with this kind of leathery love, but it's got attitude and enough spit to hit the back row. However, don't expect a heavy metal record, this has more of a snide poppy edge which alot of Glam acts in the '80s were trying to replicate, especially as they were influenced by the more glittery excesses of say The Sweet and Bolan at their most feminine.
7/10
So, what are we to make of this comedy rock ? Well, for one, this ain’t no Spinal Tap, but instead cast your mind back to the pure essence of true ‘80s metal and you’ll probably dig Steel Panther. They’ve been around the block, their lyrics are atrocious, but they know it. Their melodies are good, albeit regurgitation of Crue, Whitesnake, and every other ‘80s metal act, and you WILL find yourself laughing through most of the record, especially as the band slot tongue firmly in cheek. Big anthems, offensive but smutty lyrics, hair ballads, and a host of guest appearances from people such as Scott Ian (Anthrax), Corey Taylor (Slipknot), Justin Hawkins (The Darkness) etc, etc.
I’m not gonna recite any of the lyrics here, but to say they are entertaining is an understatement, and they’ll leave you rolling around on the floor. Madonna, Mariah Carey, Eminem, Dr Dre, etc, all get a roasting on ‘Death To All But Metal’, ‘Asian Hooker’ is literally a metal version of the 2 Live Crew with its crudeness, and ballad ‘Community Property’ will have you lighter waving and giggling at the same time.
So many bands have tried the comedy metal route, but I truly believe Steel Panther can make a career out of this. They have the cheese, but also the musicianship, take for example the Whitesnake inspired ‘Fat Girl (Thar She Blows)’ with its fist pumping chorus and the ‘80s glam strut of ‘Eatin’ Ain’t Cheatin’.
Some may scoff at such a record, but for good time party sex metal, the Bon Jovi/Kiss imitation ‘Party All Day (Fuck All Night)’ shows an almost boyish naivety, so anyone offended by this should go elsewhere to be honest, because with constant use of words like boobies, how can one be upset. Sit back, grab a beer and listen to the rip-off’s, perverted schoolboy poetry and slurps.
7/10
Heathen were somewhat overlooked in the ‘80s thrash league but remain a cool cult act. The four-piece released several high quality thrash metal albums, ‘Victims..’ being one of the best and featuring ten slabs of heavy thrash constructed of classic chug. Opener ‘Hypnotized’ reminds me of Metallica via ‘Ride The Lightning’ and there’s the hints of Megadeth too. I’m a huge fan of this reliable thrash, because what it may lack in thrills it makes up for in weight, just check out that chug on ‘Opiate Of The Masses’.
If you weren’t around the first time when this wave of emerged, then try to dig out these gems because so many bands from the time faded into obscurity simply because there were so many pouring from the racks. Thankfully, quite a few of these bands have been recognised on the Internet and immortalised for their output. Heathen are one of those underrated bands.
7/10
All the best bands have bad times. Some longer than others, but Megadeth have always been relatively consistent. The main problem of course was that after the genius of ‘rust In Peace’, they was always gonna struggle to continue in that vein. ‘Countdown..’ and ‘Youthanasia’ were also very good records, but then came the down time. Thankfully, and like Slayer (although unlike Metallica), Megadeth have found their feet again, and ‘Endgame’ is another classy thrash album to please the fans. Instrumental ‘Dialectic Chaos’ opens the record and melts into the rattling ‘This Day We Fight’, Mustaine’s sneer as recognisable as ever, the music is beautiful in its aggression, a master craft in classic heavy metal, bringing to mind the qualities of acts such as Metal Church. Shawn’s drums are heavy and tight, and as expected the music is complex and rarely loose, as ’44 Minutes’ snarls into its memorable chorus. The better moments of ‘So Far, So Good…So what ?’ are brought to mind, especially on the bare knuckle ride which is ‘1,320’ and chugger ‘Bite The Hand’.
Megadeth, although a classic metal band in their own right, remind of Judas Priest as to how they’ve carved their career. Inspiring hordes of other bands with their brand of cold steel, and through their career remaining solid and true. Dave Mustaine is a metal legend, and, like him or not, a guy who has created metal history. When one looks back at the time line of metal, I truly believe Megadeth should be seen as giants who rose above the likes of Anthrax and even Metallica who, for me, collapsed after their first three records. The title cut on offer here is a prime example of that arrogant and paranoid swagger Megadeth have injected into the metal world. There’s no cop out here, this is straight, balls to the wall metal, what the fans want, no selling out, no reverting to watered down rock for the scent of cash.
‘The Hardest Part Of Letting Go…’ shows the band in subtle mood, the fresh acoustics billowing in the wind and Mustaine’s snarl still full of contempt before the guitars crash in.
Megadeth have come along way, and ‘Head Crusher’ pretty much sums up the sound they’ve made their own over several decades. Eleven tracks of quality metal, perfect fodder for the metaller who wants it loud and proud.
8/10
I read a review of this record in a popular extreme metal magazine in which the writer mentioned how, despite continued disappointments, the release of a Slayer album is always an event within the extreme metal calendar. I disagree. And I’m sad of this. Slayer ruled the ‘80s with a bloody fist. From the dank stirrings of their early cavernous thrash records, to the classic ‘Reign In Blood’, the slower, yet equally brilliant ‘South Of Heaven’, and the mix of both being the fabulous ‘Seasons…’ And then it went downhill….very rapidly…from there. I still think the departure of drum warlock Dave Lombardo was a critical factor in the bands crumble. ‘Divine..’ was lacklustre, lacking the gory horizons although there were a handful of decent cuts. ‘Diabolus…’strayed into the realms then occupied by nu-metal and the likes of Fear Factory and their mechanised rumbling. In other words, it was a poor record, more suited to accompanying wrestlers into a ring! And by this point, the interest in Slayer was waning, and I found myself stating the same things time and time again. Kerry King’s attempts at extremity were laughable, old chords were rehashed, lyrically stagnant, Araya became lifeless, the drums watered down, the atmospheres no longer dripped blood, and the constant ‘Reign In Blood’ imitations were tiresome. ‘God Hates Us All’ waltzed by to no effect, only Araya and Hanneman’s tracks giving us a small glimpse into a past which was quickly being clouded by the failures of the present. ‘Christ Illusion’ however promised much, especially as Lombardo was back in the fold, but once again the band attempted to recreate the glories of the past. However, this is twenty years later, and why taint the legend that had already embedded itself into metal history ? Slayer were simply unable to escape the ghosts of yesteryear. King’s anthems of pain, aggression and obscenity were simply dire screams in a world now dominated by Slipknot and their hilarious ‘evil’. ‘Christ Illusion’ was banished to the pit without even a whimper. And so, we’re back again, with ‘World Painted Blood’ and you know what, isn’t it about time the guys hung up their instruments ? Let’s see….
No-one expects a cutting edge, ground-breaking record from Slayer, but what we don’t want is regurgitation, but of course, Slayer just can’t help it. They’ve got nothing left in the locker, they’ve been running on empty for several years now, sucking the shit back into their system and putting it out for the public to purchase in the hope that maybe, just maybe, we’ll have another ‘Reign In Blood’. But do Slayer fans really want another ‘Reign…’ ? If so why ? Any anyway, it can’t be done, it was a time and a moment, but when Slayer realise on occasion, that regurgitation is pointless, we get a handful of half-decent cuts only because they are unable to create anything else. It hurts to say it, and yet time and time again it rears its head, the fact that Slayer are simply existing on their past. The gigs will make them the cash because they can rely on about five albums of classic material but the latter day stuff just doesn’t hold on. Or does it ?
The title cut, written by Hanneman and Araya, begins menacingly and as Lombardo’s marching drums puncture the slow grinding guitars, you begin to think this could well be a return to the form every one and their dog has gone on about on every poor album since the early ‘90s. Lyrically it’s pretty formula, Araya’s rasp is aggressive and the mid-tempo chorus reeks of a blackness not heard since the fetid ooze of ‘Seasons..’. The Hanneman creation ‘Unit 731’ is furious and vicious, cutting thrash that, like a razor slices the flesh. Buzzing guitars, rattling drums, and again, suddenly all could be forgiven, because although there are the remnants of ‘Reign…’, ‘South…’ etc, seeping from the cracks, there appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel, or maybe I’m thinking that this record, based on the first two tracks would be a good way to end the career. A fitting last word. King’s ‘Snuff’ is a basic (as expected) assault on the senses, but betters the efforts he puked out on the last two records. And then, thankfully, we are back to another Araya and Hanneman cut, the truly fantastic ‘beauty Through Order’. Sure, the mid-section is ‘Reign…’, but the mid-pace morbidity is creepy and yet catchy in its deviant pounding, Lombardo’s drums come to the fore, Araya is the preacher of the perverted, and then we have the King and Hanneman solo’s which whine, twist and wind through the black smoke. Suddenly, I’m shocked, lapping away at the humble pie and scraping the egg of my face….is this really Slayer back on form ? I peer over the horizon and notice another King composition, ‘Hate Worldwide’ sounds like another of those wrestling anthems, it’s naïve, lacking any kind of darkness as it attempts to gouge the eyes in its ferocity. I dunno, but King has been writing this kind of short and sharp hate song for a few years now, and it’s soon followed by another, ‘Public Display Of Dismemberment’, which had added meat and flavour, a punkoid thrash fest of predictable nature, leaving me to crave another Hanneman and Araya composition. We get it with the creeping ‘Human Strain’. I truly believe that an album solely written by Hanneman/Araya, would be a classic, they have a knack for the festering, morbid soundcsapes, the behemoth poetry and the flashes of the past without the phony regurgitation. King’s ‘Americon’ is average, a punky chant with some interesting guitar parts, but the track seems out of place, especially as Hanneman’s demented thrash vomit ‘Psychopathy Red’ stains the sky red. Brutal, uncompromising and showing us why Slayer were once the most fearsome band on the planet. ‘Playing With Dolls’ suggests that Slayer still might be, and believe me, I never thought I’d hear myself saying that again! King, Hanneman and Araya have all created this slow, thunderous and seedy masterpiece that hints at the ‘South Of Heaven’ blackness of ‘Dead Skin Mask’, et al.
‘Not Of This God’ is the album closer, another King surge of brutality which doesn’t let us down too much although reminds me heavily of Sepultura, via ‘Roots’, but by this point any true Slayer fan should be craving another two or three tracks, especially in the vein of the other Araya/Hanneman cuts. And more importantly, this album may have true Slayer fans believing again, and, as their heartbeat thuds like Lombardo’s revitalised drums, and the guitars whine like a flat line, Araya’s whispers, bellows and rasps leave us salivating for the first time since the early ‘90s. Amidst their own debris Slayer may rise like some charred, bloodied phoenix, and as we know, there’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal. If this is Slayer’s last record, it’s a good way to go, but if it isn’t, let’s hope the next instalment continues to rebuild a faith which I thought had disappeared long ago.
8/10
Faith No More may have been metal innovator’s and highly original weirdsters, who spawned several imitators, but the reality is, despite their genial recorded output, frontman Patton was always at his most creative without the band. Mr Bungle, Peeping Tom, General Patton vs The Executioners, blah blah…a veritable feast of bizarre and highly inventive experimentation's. The soundtrack to dire action movie ‘Crank 2’ being no exception. Patton is a genius without debate, and here we are treated to another peculiar collection of sinister, jazzed up, surreal, avant-garde, spasticated, and unpredictable soundscapes.
Patton never fails to deliver. The freakish products of his own twisted mind often flash back to his Mr Bungle oddness, but always maintain high levels of madness. Creaks, whines, yawns, crunches, spits, chops and scratches weave together vast labyrinths of industrial trip-hop, funky death-groove, mechanised thrash dance and epileptic breakbeat brutality, at times interjected with his own vocal extremity. At once catchy as hell but also alien, Patton’s musings straddle electronic prog’ eeriness and accidental chart hit, should any such forms wean their way into the commercial abyss.
You never know what’s in store when Mike puts together another of those projects which invoke images of David Lynch, and other disturbing atmospheres. This is not for those seeking an accessible void, but instead caters for those with an eye for the surreal, and an ear for the downright strange. All hail the king of kings.
8/10
