Poland is full of natural ressources. And one of them, metal, especially the one that we find around the neck of athletes climbing the second and third steps of podiums, is still shaped with love. The industry of this raw material is indeed healthy, as judged by the good sales of productions by Acid Drinkers, Kat, Turbo, Vader, Decapitated or Behemoth. However, if those precious metals are massively searched for, they should not overshadow others, like Mastemey, which production deserves as much attention. Quite new in the business of metal, Mastemey have named their first delivery simply Vol. 1, which suggests that the band wishes to exploit further this vein in the future.
Just like elements that populated consecutively the Periodic Classification, there is a lot of effervescence around the discovery of this new metal. In the manufacture where it is shaped, one hears twisting, pounding, buzzing, and speaking at the top of lungs. No, it's not industrial that is made there, but really powerful thrash, driven by a rhythm that is as massive as the panic of mammoths in the storm, and guitar solos as sharpened as the lead of a Stædtler pencil that was just turned in a pencil-sharpener. Between final touches (the assaults galloping with the assurance of a warlord) and unfinished sketches (the rhythms breaking with the hesitation of soldiers treading on unfamiliar grounds), it's an intriguing picture that the model longes to see while keeping away from it as long as its author has not finished it.
Metal alloys are known to be so numerous these days that one could write a thesis about them. However, the blend of foot-tapping groove and head-bobbing thrash of our new polish entity will excite as much bodies in the agitation of muscular stage performances as it will tickle the minds in the calm of headphone listening.