Vim Fuego So Cavalera Conspiracy is now Cavalera and has re-recorded “Bestial Devastation”, the famous first Sepultura EP originally released as a split with Overdose in 1985.

First thought: Why?

OK, the Cavalera brothers wrote these songs, and they reckon these old recordings don’t do them credit. Fair enough, do what you will with your own songs, but realise these have been around for a very long time, and fans are attached to the original versions, having invested a lot of time and memory to them. It doesn’t seem like fans were crying out for re-recordings. And music from this era and style is still being made - Jairo Guedz (Tormentor, and lead guitar/bass player on the original) is still doing this with The Troops of Doom.

So let’s start listening.

Second thought: Fuck!

Yeah, there’s an update to the sound, and it’s still heavy and bestial, but it’s too fucking clean! A big part of Bestial Devastation’s charm is the original recording’s sound. It has warmth and character because it’s not quite right. There’s a fuzz around the edges because the guitars are too loud. The drums are a bit out of time. The re-recorded “Antichrist” is played a lot faster by a far more accomplished 50-something Iggor than the original teen Iggor. All perfectly timed, all the fills in the right place, and all the personality is leeched from it.

Third thought: No!

You can’t rewrite history. Example: the solo near the end of the title track. It’s too slick. It’s played by Daniel Gonzalez, Cavalera Conspiracy’s live guitarist, and also a member of Possessed and Gruesome. Gonzalez is just too good and too technically proficient, and the sound too clean. There’s none of the amateurishness of a teenage guitarist laying down his first solo on tape. The new solos throughout are somewhat clinical and surgically precise, where a few idiosyncratic bum notes would have made things more interesting.

Fourth thought: Wait…

And just when you think it’s all a sterile, cynical cash-in, along comes “Sexta Fiera 13” (Friday the 13th), a turbo-charged take on the atmospheric theme song from the movie franchise of the same name. There’s little info on where or when this was written, but suddenly things are transformed. There’s no more shitting on history. It’s chaotic and brutal, and exactly what the brothers Cavalera were first famous for. And it’s a fucking great song.

Final thought: Fair enough.

Yeah, fuck it. This isn’t amazing, but it’s pretty good. These are modern reinterpretations of songs first recorded 38 years ago. The people re-recording them own them and can do what they like with them – at least these aren’t dubstep remixes. No one is forcing the rest of us to listen. And the originals still exist if you don’t like the re-recordings.

Vim Fuego Sometimes a band does everything “wrong”, but does it so well this turn out just right. Take Nemesis for example.

First mistake – the name isn’t particularly original. A quick search online turned up no less than 97 metal bands using the word nemesis, or various versions of it, as the whole or part of the band’s name. So you narrow the search a little, to just the word nemesis on it’s own. That reduces it to 54 bands. This band is from the United States (down to 10), and plays thrash metal (six bands). To get a bit more geographically specific, narrow it down to the state of Texas, and you’re down to three bands called Nemesis. To get to the particular Nemesis in question here, you need to make the search as specific as the thrash metal band from Houston, Texas called Nemesis.

Next mistake – the band plays thrash metal. Current wisdom seems to be that thrash metal bands need to follow the patented Municipal Waste method of revival thrash. Play crossover thrash, fuck about and don’t take yourself too seriously, and make your music all about partying and getting wasted. Nemesis don’t do this. Listening to the band’s debut album “False Reality”, what they do is sharp, tight thrash metal which tackles weighty social and political issues. Instead of the D.R.I./Gang Green/Suicidal Tendencies worship of a lot of newer thrash bands, you have to dig a little deeper of influences and references. The seriousness of the subject matter wouldn’t be out of place on a 1980s record from Kreator or Megadeth or Sacred Reich.

And despite all this, “False Reality” will be one of the best thrash metal albums you are going to hear in a very long time, because this band has done the most fundamental things exactly right. First, they have mastered their instruments and their musical style. Second, the band members are a complete unit, focused and razor sharp. There’s not a weak link here, and the band members are so tight you couldn’t slip a credit card between them. Third, they are writing actual songs. Where a lot of modern thrash falls down is in just lumping a whole lot of riffs together and calling them a song. Nemesis have written their songs with a sense of purpose and cohesion, focusing on developing a song rather than just slapping it together and seeing what happens. Take second track “Captive Hell” as an example. It starts with a slowed version of the main riff, establishing it as the theme for the song. As the song progresses, more and more layers are added, like drum fills, vocal melodies, secondary riffs, and solos. The main theme is revisited several times during the song, and it all ties back together into a memorable, catchy song which would be the envy of many a big-name thrash metal band.

As for Nemesis’s overall sound, Megadeth comes to mind again, but there’s more depth than that. There’s a more than a passing similarity to French Canadian thrash legends Soothsayer – intentional or not, it’s not a direct copy and it’s refreshing to hear those seemingly forgotten sounds being explored once again. There’s also hints of Blind Illusion, a bit of Holy Terror, and maybe a splash of Testament. This is all wrapped up in clear but crushing 2020s record production which cures many of the production ills of old-school thrash. The guitar tones are distorted because they are meant to be, and not because the sound engineer had no clue about metal. The drums are sharp and crisp, and don’t sound like they are filled with mud. Vocalist Nick Broussard’s voice is clear and melodic, and skirts that perfect boundary between shout and sing.

While the whole of “False Reality” is truly impressive, there are a few stand-out tracks – take note of album opener “Slave of Mistakes”, and the singles “Aggressor” and “Escape”.

Nemesis has done nothing particularly new here, which is often seen as a recipe for mediocrity but everything the band has done is absolutely bang-on perfect. “False Reality” kicks against conventional wisdom, but it’s done with conviction and sincerity so it works. It’s a trip down memory lane any jaded old thrasher for a 40-minute trip back in time, but it may also be an indicator to the future. More please, Nemesis!

Vim Fuego Art is subjective. One person’s Mona Lisa is another person’s 500-year-old moody Italian moaner. And the value of art is what someone is willing to pay for it, whether the cost be tangible like money or trade, or something more abstract, like time and attention. Over the years I, like many other fans, have expended a huge amount on Metallica’s art, because I really enjoyed what they were creating.

On my shelf right now there are 25 Metallica CDs, at least eight of which are replacements for wobbly and worn cassettes. There are also three tribute albums. There is a box set in an imitation road case which contains three VHS video tapes and two CDs, along with some other paraphernalia, and is the single largest album release I have ever bought. I have owned at least four other VHS videos, and also have two DVDs. There is a PlayStation 2 game alongside the DVDs. Also on the shelf there are three volumes of Metallica biographies, or perhaps four if you want to count Dave Mustaine’s book. I have owned at least six Metallica t-shirts, along with assorted other bits and pieces like patches, pendants, coffee mugs, and keyrings. I have dozens upon dozens of metal magazines which feature Metallica. The only time I have ever climbed on a plane to see a band was to see Metallica in 1998, going into debt at a time when I was only partially employed. And these are mostly just the material things. Calculate a guess at the time and attention, and then double your estimation and you might arrive at a more accurate figure.

The biggest problem with writing a review is that it means listening to “72 Seasons” again, and it just seems like a chore.

The title track is a good start, but these days there always seems to be something wrong with even the most promising Metallica songs. On this track it feels too clean. It’s like the sharp edges which used to make Metallica such a thrilling band to listen to have been filed off or wrapped in thick over-produced foam rubber.

And then onto “Shadows Follow”. And it sounds exactly the same – same tempo, same “Load/ReLoad” rehashed riffs, same fat, fuzzy, friendly tones. These songs are neutered golden retrievers curled up at your feet wanting a pat, where once they would have been rabid snapping mongrels threatening to rip your throat out.

“Screaming Suicide” brings in Kirk’s famed wah pedal as an attempt at adding some colour, but once again it sounds recycled, and is safe paint-by-numbers metal.

“Sleepwalk My Life Away” and “You Must Burn!” are thoroughly unremarkable, and suffer greatly from sounding too similar. This is utter mediocrity. There is nothing risky or adventurous here at all. There’s no chance of a hurdy gurdy a la “Low Man’s Lyric”. Marianne Faithful isn’t going to pop up to mournfully wail that no one cares about her any more. Fuck, there’s not even any chance of a crusty old man like Lou Reed channelling a teenage girl in the weirdest and creepiest way possible, and not just because Reed is dead. Even an annoying pinging snare drum from 2003 would add a shadow of something interesting here.

“Lux Æterna” has been cited as a return to the thrash metal days of old. Yes, it’s played at a higher tempo than the rest of the album, and is easily the shortest song on the album. It’s got a scream-along refrain which would probably go off in a live situation. However, cast a critical eye over it and see where it would have fitted in Metallica’s back catalogue and you’ll spot the problem. It’s not replacing any song anywhere on the first four albums. The style wouldn’t have suited any of the 90s albums. It might have squeezed in a spot somewhere on “St. Anger”, but it’s not making the cut for “Death Magnetic”, unless it’s a Japan-only bonus track or a B-side. See the problem? It only seems like a late model thrash Ferrari because it’s surrounded by so many characterless Toyota Corollas.

“If Darkness Had A Son” has an interesting enough groove, but being merely interesting means it’s ultimately forgettable and disposable like most of this album. Besides, Rob Halford and Fight were being far more inventive and edgy with this style of groove back in 1993.

The final track “Inamorata” (a female lover, in case you were wondering about the word’s meaning) is a microcosm of the whole album - it’s too long and would have benefitted greatly from some critical editing, it’s all been done better before, and it’s just too safe and lacking in inspiration to remain memorable or vital.

Remember the first time you were struck by the violence of “Battery” followed by the pummelling of “Master of Puppets”. Remember laughing out loud at the audacity of the “Anaesthesia (Pulling Teeth)” bass solo, which then segued into the breakneck “Whiplash”. Remember the tingle up your spine the first time you heard “Creeping Death’s” ‘die, die, die’ chant. Remember the aural assault when “Dyer’s Eve” first blasted in at the end of “To Live Is To Die”. These were the moments which made Metallica such an amazing band, and these moments created lifetime fans. Keep a firm hold of those memories, because there is not even the slightest spark on “72 Seasons” to ignite a life-long flame of fandom.

I’m no longer interested in expending anything on new music from Metallica, either concrete or ethereal. Millions still will, and that’s their choice, but this art no longer holds any value to me.

Vim Fuego Mainstream metal fans have always had a couple of problems with Stryper which has held the band back from greater success.

The first is the obvious one – the Christian lyrics and message the band has been broadcasting for the best part of 40 years. However, celebrations of, and exhortations to, Big Daddy, J.C., and the Spook, er... I mean the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (gotta keep the atheist piss-taking to a minimum here because this is a review of the album, not the religion) aside, Stryper have produced some absolutely banging metal tunes over the years. Take the first track from “The Final Battle” as an example. “Transgressor” is a booming lead-off track, so forget those old 80s glam metal reservations you might still be hanging on to. This is a full on powerful heavy-fucking-metal… oh, sorry, heavy-f***ing-metal song. Solos, a relentless rhythm, killer Judas Priest/Saxon/Accept style riffs, and lyrics guiding you on the path to eternal life, if you so desire. Yes, Stryper can rock hard with the best of them.

And so the album continues. Musically “See No Evil, Hear No Evil” isn’t a million miles distant from Judas Priest’s “Touch of Evil”, and vocalist Michael Sweet even hits a Halford style falsetto scream. “Same Old Story” and “Heart & Soul” are a pair of stadium rockers which modern day Mötley Crüe would kill for, all with positive, life-affirming messages instead of death and destruction or party anthem lyrics.

So far, so good. This is exactly what anyone who’s been paying attention to Stryper over the years would expect. However, the second problem hinted at earlier rears it’s ugly head with fifth track “Near”. The bane of many a young metalhead from the 80s, it’s a POWER BALLAD! Yep, Stryper’s ballads are just awful. The ballads are just so sappy and saccharine, and with the Christian sentiments come across as the Imagine Dragons of metal. These songs might really tear it up in the live setting in an evangelical mega-church, but in recorded form these are the tracks the skip button or air sickness bags were designed for.

From here on, the rest of the album seems to lose a bit of it’s bite, teetering between hands-in-the-air hard rock hymns to Him, and rockers that don’t quite roll like the first few tracks. The album could easily have just fizzled out like this, but final track “Ashes To Ashes” elbows it’s way in, and it’s a rocker which wouldn’t seem out of place on a W.A.S.P. album.

The Yellow and Black Attack have always been a bit problematic for metal fans not looking for religious messages in their music. The messaging has put off a lot of potential listeners over the years (yes, I’ll own up, I was one), but if you can put prejudices and preconceptions aside, and then filter through the filler tracks, there’s some absolute killer metal contained here. Just make sure your finger on the skip button is quicker than your gag reflex when you hit the ballad...

Vim Fuego Landmarks in your life can bring on bouts of nostalgia (I’m writing this the day before my 50th birthday), and can get you reminiscing about things you enjoyed from the past missing from the current day. If you can be bothered doing the maths you’ll see I was 17 when the 80s ticked over to 1990. The small thrills from those days are often the hardest to rediscover - the wicked thrill associated with underage drinking (started age 14 when the legal drinking age was 20), the buzz of a first cigarette (age 15, and can genuinely say I enjoyed it), the forbidden treasure of naked women in slightly sticky girlie magazines (with pubic hair!), and the visceral delight of discovering a new band.

These days a quiet beer with dinner is still nice but is no longer illicit, I feel sick for a couple of days after if I smoke so that’s out, all forms of human nakedity and perversion are only a few mouse clicks away (and I’ve been living with a genuine, real-life beautiful woman for more than a quarter of a century anyway), and most new thrash metal bands sound like variations on a Municipal Waste-based template.

And then I discovered Interceptor’s “Thrashing Violence” demo, and I felt the thrill of 17 again.

“Thrashing Violence” is genuine, grass roots thrash metal, done for the fun of it by a young trio from a dead-end town. (That’s another thing about being 17 – whatever town you’re from seems like a dead-end town). The first thing that hits you with this demo is that it’s rough and raw, and gloriously under-produced. This isn’t the forced rough/raw pose of black metal deliberately trying to sound tr00 kvlt and grymdark. This is the genuine rough/raw of “OK, we don’t really know what we’re doing, we don’t have a lot of money, let’s just plug shit in and record what comes out”.

The guitar sound doesn’t have a lot of bottom end, but here’s the thing – this allows the riffs to shine through, nimble and sharp. Go back and listen to those old early albums from thrash metal’s big names and they sounded the same. “Kill ‘em All” sounds sharp. Exodus’ “Bonded By Blood” is their least heavy album, but has their speediest riffs. “Thrashing Violence” sounds closest in character to Megadeth’s “Killing is My Business…and Business Is Good” – the riffs are choppy rather than chunky, which helped define thrash metal’s early sound.

The title track’s opening riff is reasonably memorable, but doesn’t seem like much to write home about, but then the band put their heads down and absolutely thrash! Stereo separated guitar lines, a throbbing bass line underpinning the guitar, and then a throaty melodic shouted vocal. It’s all you could hope for in a thrash song. And it isn’t limited to that. There’s some almost Death Angel-esque screams, a barked refrain of the song’s title, and a tasty but unindulgent solo. The lyrics aren’t particularly deep and meaningful, being about a love of metal and moshing, but remember that just about every band wrote songs like these back in the day – Rattlehead, Hit The Lights, Bonded By Blood, Metal Command, Hammerhead…

“Hatred” seems a bit darker and a little slower, adding a touch of Possessed or perhaps Celtic Frost to the mix. “Into The Hellmouth” has a military radio intro and outro, and is an outright martial headbanger. When the guitars back off preparing for a solo, the bass and drums really shine through Sodom-style.

And that’s it. Three tracks in just under 12 minutes. There’s nothing here that hasn’t been done before or been done better, but you know what? That doesn’t matter. This is simply the music these guys want to play, and it’s done will skill and conviction. And it’s exactly what an ageing headbanger going through a mini mid-life crisis wanted to hear.

Vim Fuego It’s been an epic journey. There have been many times when the battle looked lost, but the Kings of Metal triumphed. The final swansong, Manowar’s Armageddon, the ultimate final confrontation approaches. How will these mighty warriors fare?

To unnecessarily answer a rhetorical question, fuck knows. And at this stage, how many metal warriors still care? Manowar knows not and cares not, and on they soldier in the fight for metal!

OK, enough cliché and war themed metaphor. Let’s get down to plain talking. Manowar are nearing the end of their musical career. There’s one more album coming. There’s a song on it about the Greek hero Odysseus, which promises to be over 30 minutes long. “Highlights from the Revenge of Odysseus” is supposedly a sample from the song.

Achilles was afforded the same treatment in 1992 in “Achilles, Agony and Ecstasy in Eight Parts” on the album “The Triumph of Steel”. “Achilles…” is a sprawling but flawed progressive power metal operetta, incorporating both bass and drum solos, and overblown theatrics. How has Odysseus fared?

Not particularly well on first appearances.

First track “Athena’s Theme” is a quasi-operatic, over-dramatic intro”. It follows into the clichéd stormy night and ominous horns of “Telemachus, Pt. 1”. It sounds like a rehashing of “The Warriors Prayer”. Except it’s in fucking Greek. If you don’t speak the language you’re buggered without a translation. It segues into a power ballad duet (“Where Eagles Fly”) so sappy even Meatloaf would have been too ashamed to sing it. Yes, Eric Adams still has a great voice, as does Chiara Tricarico of Italian symphonic power metal band Moonlight Haze, but metal fans want to hear him belting out massive war anthems, not warbling away in limp pseudo-operatic insipidity. And then there’s another Greek interlude called “Odysseus and Calypso - The Island of Ogygia”, which sounds ever so dramatic, but is still meaningless if you don’t speak the language. It’s enough to make frustrated Mano-warriors hang up their rusty battleaxes and dented codpieces.

But then Manowar do what they’ve done for their entire pompous, pretentious, unintentionally self-parodic 40+ year career. These arrogant, self-important bastards make all the bloated theatrical bullshit worth wading through by knocking out an anthemic, monstrous blast of good old fashioned heavy fucking metal with final track “Immortal”.

Ominous, ethereal choir? Check. Thundering Drums of Doom? Check. Relentless militaristic guitar riffs? Check. Joey De Maio’s unbelievable bass gymnastics? Check. Eric Adams calling brothers to arms? Check. The recipe is all there, all laid out plain and to see. It should sound tired and rehashed because this is a 40-year-old recipe, but it doesn’t. It still feels crisp and vital as it did when “Battle Hymns” first blasted out of speakers worldwide in 1982. It’s comfortingly metal without being over-comfortable. It’s over-blown without being overbearing. It’s just quintessential Man-O-fucking-War.

Whether the rest of the forthcoming album lives up to the standard set by this EP remains to be seen. And that’s exactly what this is supposed to do – pique curiosity and set out expectations. So fuck you Manowar, for who you are, you arrogant grumpy old bastards. But also thank you Manowar, for the music which has been, and possibly for what remains to come. There’s still a bit of wear left in the old codpiece yet.

Vim Fuego Metal Music Archives Reviewer's Challenge: June 2022

Death metal got disconnected somewhere along the line.

When the genre first spawned from bands who found thrash metal wasn’t extreme enough for them, the focus was mainly on big riffs and brutality. Like thrash before it, there was a certain melodic groove to it, albeit buried under layers of monstrous guitars, thunderous drums, and bestial vocals.

Fast forward to the 21st century and for some strange reason, new death metal bands don’t seem to have anywhere near the same focus on musicality. Instead, it seems technical prowess, off-the-wall time signatures and arrangements, and headache-inducing discordance are the flavour of the time instead. The old bands realised death metal is still music, while the newer ones don’t.

A bit of dissonance and discordance, and brutal technicality can be great to listen to, but such things need to allow room for the underlying music to breathe, otherwise you may as well listen to Merzbow demolish buildings with decorated amplified white noise. Enter Flourishing, who connected things back up again.

“The Sum of All Fossils” has the groove and expressiveness so beloved by death metal’s founders, while incorporating the brutal technicality and clashing disharmonia so ever-present in today’s death metal. This is undoubtedly a death metal album, but thrown in are elements of Neurosis-like post-apocalyptic guitar scrapes, Skin Chamber’s industro-death blown throat dual vocals, and some big sludgy chunks of Crowbar. Imagine a harder edged Gojira partnered with pre-prog Pestilence, and Disharmonic Orchestra overseeing it all with bleak surrealistic cyberpunk lyrics.

There’s nothing as conventional as intro/verse/chorus/verse/chorus/outro songwriting here. The music, like the lyrics, seems to be stream of consciousness, but at the same time seems precise and rehearsed rather than loose and improvised. While the music is compelling and hard to break from, the lyricism seems dense and impenetrable. Observe “Fossil Record”: “Rates increase all the time and embrace all of these thoughts. So lost. Photographs fade in every era. Left with their solitude. Reasoning dulls. Voids become deep. Alarm. They plant seeds of high purpose. Mortals drone on.” It’s a bleak but powerful vision of… what? It seems left to the listener’s interpretation.

This is an album-sized exercise in brutality and beauty to be consumed in it’s entirety, rather than trying to pluck song from song, as it is a singular vision viewed in eight parts rather than a collection of eight songs squeezed together and called an album. “The Sum of All Fossils” fills a missing link between two divergent, distantly related metal sub-genre which share a common ancestor, but long ago branched in different directions.

Vim Fuego Goregrind – invented by Carcass, perfected by Regurgitate, and pushed to the absolute limit by Last Days of Humanity.

Everything Last Days of Humanity (LDOH) has ever produced has been extreme, pushing the boundaries between brutal uncompromising music and formless noise. This is what endears the band to it’s fans, and also deters potential new listeners. Just look at the band’s previous album covers. Gory pictures are the norm among goregrind bands, but LDOH’s album covers take the revulsion to new depths. Human bodies aren’t just mangled but are also decomposing, with images so visceral and disgusting you can almost smell the putrefaction and trigger your gag reflex. This music isn’t something which can just be explored casually.

And the music. It’s fast, distorted, guttural, and really fucking heavy, but often it dissolves into an indistinguishable blur. It’s a nasty, gut-punch kind of a blur, and quite satisfying in it’s own right, but it’s hard to tell where bass, guitar, vocals, and drums all start and end. There have always riffs lurking just beneath the surface, but like the Loch Ness monster, they have proved to be elusive up until now.

Right from the first few seconds, “Hematopoietic System Tissue and Lymphoid Fail” opens with an absolutely massive riff which wouldn’t sound out of place on Carcass’ first two albums, except that it’s crystal clear and monumentally heavy. It seems like for almost the first time in their career LDOH actually had a production budget.

However, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Hans Smits’ vocals still sound like a clogged drain in a pathology lab. Clearer production aside, this is still the familiar trademark micro-blast songs, sometimes lasting only a few seconds but run together so it’s often hard to know where one song ends and the next begins. Let’s face it though, this isn’t the sort of music you listen to for individual songs. Other than with the opening track, the only other time this matters is with a suitably mangled cover of Fear of God’s “Running Through The Blood”. Sometimes music emerges from the crimson maelstrom. Otherwise, this album is glorious, gory cascades of shredded, decaying human tissue.

So… is LDOH breaking new ground? No. Is LDOH still pushing the limits? Yes. Is this a contradiction? Maybe. Is “Horrific Compositions of Decomposition” any good? Yes.

Vim Fuego Ho, ho, fuck...

Yep, it’s Christmas time, so the world’s most (only?) Christmassy death metal band Coffin Fuck have made their annual trip to the studio somewhere near their home base of Hopatcong, New Jersey. COVID played the Grinch in 2020, the first time in a decade a Coffin Fuck Christmas single didn’t eventuate, so the three lads in their silly sweaters are making up for lost time this year.

But something has changed.

Yes, it’s the usual three self-professed dorks mangling a Christmas song in a so-bad-it’s-good completely unproduced metal manner. Yes, the lyrics are mostly inappropriate and silly. And yes, the artwork to this year’s offering “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree” looks to have been hand drawn using Microsoft Paint.

But therein lies a clue: there’s a rough hand-rendered version of the most famous image in black metal history. No, not Dead’s splattery “excuse the mess” farewell. No, no! Not Count Grishnakh posing with the over-sized butter knife. The OTHER most famous image from black metal. You know, Abbath and Demonaz in full battle dress and badger make-up ready to shovel snow with their guitars from the cover of “Battles in the North”.

Yep, Coffin Fuck have passed over to the dark side. This year’s Christmas single is... black metal!

And actually, it’s not half bad. Well OK, it is pretty bad, but that’s the point. It’s standard-ish black metal with fast, reedy sounding guitars, and blasts and snare drum flurries like you’d expect, but it’s the funny little foibles which make Coffin Fuck such fun. The tuneless vocal tuning at the start of the song. The clunky solo mid-song. The stupid lyrics – “You will get a detrimental feeling when you hear/heathens screaming, worship Santa” and “Have a Misanthropic day/Everyone glaring evilly/In the most trve nekro way”.

Yep, it’s dumb as fuck, but that’s why it’s fun. Merry Antichrist-mas!

Vim Fuego The 1990s saw Metallica start the decade as thrash metal’s biggest band. The band and genre was somewhat niche, and not particularly well known outside metal and alternative music scenes. By the turn of the millennium, Metallica had become the biggest band in metal bar none, and was surpassed in popular music by only a handful of artists, but in creating new music thrash metal had been left far behind. “Garage Inc.” as a covers and B-sides compilation album lays bare the influences mixed in to Metallica’s thrash metal roots which made “Metallica”, “Load”, and “Re-Load” the albums which led the band to world domination.

Disc 1 of this double album is freshly recorded covers. These run the full gamut of Metallica’s musical tastes, and some work better than others. Metallica can do punk, and do it well. We know this because of their covers excellent of The Misfits, and Anti-Nowhere League’s utterly filthy “So What”. However, Metallica aren’t too good at Discharge, with “Free Speech For The Dumb” and “The More I See” bookending this disc. These versions are too… clean. Discharge’s originals are scuzzy and discordant, from a band on the verge of starvation. Metallica just can’t reproduce the same feel. It’s hard to sound desperate when you’re a multi-millionaire living comfortably. Bob Rock does big, fat, and comfortable as a producer, with the latest in studio technology at his fingertips, while Discharge would have been recorded as quickly as possible on zero budget. The guitars are too warm, and too big. The bass doesn’t have enough distortion. And Lars just can’t play D-beat drums. Still, without Discharge, thrash metal wouldn’t have been thrash metal.

Metallica’s love of NWOBHM band Diamond Head is well known, so a Diamond Head song was inevitable here, and while “It’s Electric” is no “Am I Evil?”, in the same vein as that famous cover, it’s not far removed from Metallica’s own style.

Covering Black Sabbath isn’t always as easy as it seems. Slayer stumbled with their version of “Hand of Doom”, and Megadeth’s “Paranoid” is almost an unintentional parody. Metallica don’t fuck it up as badly as those covers, but “Sabbra Cadabra” isn’t particularly impressive. They just can’t reproduce Sabbath’s whacked-out stoner groove.

The first really impressive track here is “Turn The Page”, originally by Bob Seger. It’s a brooding tale of life on the road. James Hetfield’s vocals and the ruminating main riff seem to be an indicator of where “The Memory Remains” came from.

“Die, Die My Darling” is a welcome addition to the existing collection of Misfits covers. It’s not near as rough as “Last Caress/Green Hell” recorded a decade earlier, but it retains the boisterous energy and wicked dark humour of the original.

The inclusion of Nick Cave and The Bad Seed’s “Loverman” is the biggest what-the-fuck on the whole album. The original switches between minimalist restraint and raucous post-punk anarchy, and Metallica doesn’t attempt to pull it off, but instead smooths out the rough edges and makes it their own. Cave’s introspective oblique lyrics are somewhat different to the Metallica norm, but like “Turn The Page”, the song illustrates James Hetfield’s varied vocal abilities.

The five song Mercyful Fate medley is more traditional fare. The songs don’t exactly merge seamlessly, and of course there’s no King Diamond helium vocals, but it’s 11 minutes of 80s satanic metal goodness.

Blue Öyster Cult don’t often get the love they deserve, even though they are the band who wrote monster rockers like “Godzilla”, “Burnin’ For You”, and “Don’t Fear The Reaper”. “Astronomy” isn’t one of those monster rockers, but Metallica turn it into one.

“Whiskey In The Jar” is the best song on the first disc. It’s a boisterous, catchy party anthem, and a new take on Thin Lizzy’s take of the traditional Irish folk song.

“Tuesday’s Gone” was recorded during a radio broadcast in 1997 with a number of guest musicians, including members of Alice in Chains, Corrosion of Conformity, Lynyrd Skynrd, and even Les Claypool on banjo, and… it’s fucking tedious. Yep, it’s an all-star acoustic jam that’s an all-star acoustic bore. It also indicates where Metallica found the Southern rock and country influences which popped up on the Load albums.

Disc 2 is older stuff which already existed, but was sometimes hard to come by until this release. The first five tracks come from “The $5.98 E.P.: Garage Days Re-Revisited”, which had been out of print for the best part of a decade, and dedicated collectors had been paying exorbitant prices for copies of it. The E.P. also featured the first recordings of Jason Newsted with Metallica. This sloppy spontaneous recording is a little rough around the edges, but that’s a big part of it’s charm.

The next pair of NWOBHM covers were initially recorded as B-sides for the 12” vinyl version of “Creeping Death”, released as a single in 1984. The epic “Am I Evil?” is Metallica’s most famous cover, and is so well known it may as well be their own song. Diamond Head have done very well from it over the years, with Metallica’s cover helping revive their career and earning the band a decent sum from royalties over the years too. The other song is “Blitzkrieg”, originally by Blitzkrieg, is an up-tempo blitzkrieg of a song (is that too many blitzkriegs?), and it’s choppy riffing shows how influential the NWOBHM was on thrash metal.

“Breadfan” (originally by Budgie) and “The Prince” (originally by Diamond Head) were B-sides to the 1988 single “Harvester of Sorrow” may have been another couple of Metallica’s favourites, but these are two of the lesser tracks here, and aren’t particularly exciting.

In 1990 Elektra Records marked the label’s 40th anniversary by releasing a compilation of covers by their current roster of artists from their historic catalogue of artists. Metallica’s contribution was a version of Queen’s “Stone Cold Crazy”, which didn’t need much tarting up to make it a thrash metal song. It was later used as the B-side for the “Enter Sandman” single, and it also won Metallica the consolation Grammy for Best Metal Performance in 1991.

“So What” is Metallica’s most notorious cover. The filthy song by Anti-Nowhere League was originally a B-side for their own single “Streets of London”, and had at one stage been seized as an obscene publication in the U.K. The simplistic structure of the song and it’s exaggerated profane lyrics make it a lot of fun, and it remained a live staple for many years.

“Killing Time” by Sweet Savage is another NWOBHM cover, another B-side, and another not particularly remarkable song.

There are four Motörhead songs that aren’t exactly live, but were recorded during a rehearsal for a live performance in 1995. The performance was to celebrate the legendary Lemmy’s 50th birthday, where all the members of Metallica dressed as Lemmy and banged out some Motörhead tunes. A recording of the live performance would have been better, even if it was technically worse, because these four songs are flat and lifeless, especially “Too Late, Too Late”. Even a really rough recording of a live performance would have had more energy, and maybe a bit of spirit which is missing here.

Overall, the entire album is something of a mixed bag. The new tracks on disc one show a surprising breadth of musical likes and influences, and despite a couple of missteps is about as good as cover albums ever get. The second disc gathered together in one place all the covers recorded for various different releases, which was something of a relief for fans of the band struggling to collect them all.

That it followed the relatively poorly received Load albums (relatively – "Load" and "ReLoad" have both sold more than five million copies, as has this album) may contribute to how "Garage Inc." is perceived, but it is still a strong release in Metallica’s catalogue.

Vim Fuego French humour can be a bit hard to understand for non-French people. It takes huge chunks of absurdity and mixes it with social commentary, word play (“jeux de mots”, often untranslatable to other languages), and elements of what-the-fuck weirdness. Those of us who aren’t French can laugh along with the bits we do get, but we aren’t getting the full burn. However, not getting the full joke isn’t a problem when the bits you do get are actually really fucking funny. Take “Panzer Surprise!” here as an example.

You’re not going to expect anything too intellectual from a grindcore band called Ultra Vomit which has produced a previous album called “M. Patate” (Mr Potato), and another called “Objectif: Thunes” which has a piss take of a power metal album cover. And piss-taking absurdity is exactly what you get on “Panzer Surprise!”

(Now, a warning: my French isn’t too good. I used to take French at school mainly because the teacher was hot, and I was a horny teenage boy. I remember a few things, like merde is French for shit, fantôme means ghost, and saying “j'aime tes seins” to a girl is not very polite (it means “I like your tits”, and that was the last time I ever said anything in class when I didn’t know what it meant first!) Due to my linguistic deficiencies Google Translate has been used extensively here. If there are any language fuck ups, blame the interweb, not me!)

The funny starts with the cover art. “Panzer Surprise!” has a cartoon caricature of the band riding a tank through the Looney Toons famous end card, presumably squashing Porky Pig. That’s all, folks!

Intro track “Entooned” previews the musical madness here. Yes, the name is a play on Entombed, and you get a death metal version of the Looney Toons theme song.

Second track “Kammthaar” is more Rammstein than Rammstein. It has a massive martial main riff, a chantable chorus even if you don’t understand the language, it has the solemn almost-spoken breakdown, choral backing. It seems quite earnest and meaningful until you realise kammthar is a word play on the word “camtar”, or van. Yep, it’s a Rammstein style song about driving a truck.

Next comes “Un Chien Géant”, which literally translates to “A Giant Dog” (I guessed that even with my stunted French!) and is apparently in the style of French metal band Tagada Jones. Not heard of them, so not sure how accurate the parody is – it’s probably one of those jokes only the French would get. And the whole album continues like this. “Takoyaki” starts out sounding like a System of a Down parody, then the song breaks down, and out come the Japanese kawaii vocals a la Babymetal. “Super Sexe” is a dance club (maybe a strip club?) and it inspired a cowpunk song. “Hyper Sexe” is just the word “sexe” repeated 124 times. “Le Train Fantôme” is about a trip on train 666, a ghost train.

The next obvious parody is “Calojira”. It it’s a note-perfect homage to Gojira, combined with the lyrics of French singer/songwriter Calogero. Er, except Ultra Vomit shoot a seagull mid-song.

“Jésus” is perhaps the sharpest parody on show here. It turns AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” into a slick Christian rock anthem ripping TV preachers, and then somehow morphs into an homage to footballer Lionel Messi. It could be a comment on sport, religion, and mass media, or it could just be a really funny song. “Pink Pantera” almost reaches the same height of absurdity. Yep, the Pink Panther theme tune done Pantera style. And “Pipi Vs Caca”? Straight toilet humour. Not clever, but always funny.

For a grindcore band, there isn’t much grind on this album, so it looks like full on pig squeal pornogrind track “La Ch'nille” was thrown in as a reminder of what these guys can do when they put their minds to it.

And just to wind up this whole crazy, mostly illogical album, “Évier Metal” is a near five minute ode to a kitchen tap or sink, or some combination of the two (I don’t fucking know, I’m not French!) simply because the name Évier Metal sounds a lot like heavy metal. As stupid as it sounds, it’s a fucking banging straight up trad metal anthem.

All in all, it’s really best to just listen and enjoy, and not try too hard to understand exactly what these guys are on about. Making “Panzer Surprise!” a covers album would have been too easy and a bit dull. A parody album like this is far superior. Completely fucking insane.

Vim Fuego A&R man logic 101: If Band A comes from Country X, then Band B from Country X equals Band A. And just in case, grab Band C, Band D, and Band E before anyone else does!

Just so this makes more sense to those who don't work as music label A&R people, I'll explain. Band A is Sepultura, a band who gave thrash metal the biggest kick in the ass since Slayer's "Reign In Blood". Country X is Brazil. Bands B, C, D and E are the likes of Overdose, Ratos De Porao, Korzus, or this lot, Viper.

To be brutally honest right from the start, this album simply is not very good. It is the type of album critics of thrash metal would use as an example of why thrash is crap. It is simplistic, a little moronic in the lyrical department, and was several years out of date when released. The album sounds like it is full of songs and ideas Metal Church rejected for their debut album. It would have been a solid enough album in the early days of thrash in 1985, but for 1995, it's anachronistic and really a bit of a joke.

The essence of thrash was originally taking a hardcore influence and adding it to metal. While Sepultura were listening to Discharge and the Dead Kennedys and were taking it all in, Viper were listening to Bad Religion and The Ramones. The songs are bouncy, cheerful and vapid. In places, it sounds like early Helloween on happy pills, but with worse vocals.

A few allowances need to be made in the lyric department for these guys, naturally being Portuguese speakers, but the lyrics are like something out of a Motley Crue record, or a 13 year old attempting to write songs for the first time– "Makin' Love", "Somebody Told Me You're Dead", "Far And Near".

There are some positives though. There's the odd unusual percussive flourish, like the instrumental "405 South", and the songs are toe–tappingly catchy. Vocalist Pit Passarell has an excellent sense of vocal melody, and would do well fronting a pop–punk band.

While Brazil's underground scene undoubtedly produced some excellent bands, Viper is not one of them. The A&R man from Roadrunner who picked these guys up managed to find another filler for bargain bins the world over.

Vim Fuego “For fuck’s sake, give it here and let me show you how to do it properly!” – Carcass to every other melodic death metal band.

OK, this quote is obviously made up, but this is what “Torn Arteries” feels like Carcass is saying to other bands. After all, Carcass gave them the blueprints back in the early 90s. “Necroticism: Descanting The Insalubrious” showed societal satire could be combined with glorified gore and head kicking metal. And then with “Heartwork” they threw in huge chunks of unexpected melody, mountainous riffs, and a crystal clear yet distinctly deathly sound, and defined a whole new metal sub-genre. The band then got justifiably pissed off with the music business and fucked off for more than a decade. The creaky old zombie was stitched back together in 2007, and since then seems to be on a fairly relaxed album cycle. It’s been 8 years since “Surgical Steel”, and “Torn Arteries” was well and truly worth the wait.

You see, when it comes to melodic death metal, Carcass focuses on the death metal, and the melody comes second, and not the other way round. This is evident right from the first bars of the first track on the album, also the title track. It has a punishing drum intro and then into the trademark riffs. No samples, no atmospheric fucking about, just foot to the floor metal. Yes, there’s melody, but it’s dialled way back and comes more through lead guitars than vocals. It’s the perfect mix of “Necroticism...” and “Heartwork”, but dragged battered and bleeding into the 21st century.

The humour, both philosophic and comedic, drips from almost every track. “Dance of Ixtab (Psychopomp & Circumstance March No.1 in B)” refers to the Mayan goddess of suicide by hanging. “Eleanor Rigor Mortis” has the fastest intro this band has written since 1991, and thankfully has nothing to do with The Beatles song this title parodies.

“Under The Scalpel Blade” seems to be a pointed examination of the cradle-to-grave medical industrial complex, which profits from pain. “The Devil Rides Out” is an anti-Satanism song, but most definitely isn’t pro-Christian, with some evil, twisted riffs, an outro which could almost be a black metal parody. And then just to fuck with you, the intro to “Flesh Ripping Sonic Torment Limited” is some gentle acoustic picking… and then the song then smashes into full death metal fury, transforming into a near 10 minute epic. Yeah, they nearly went prog here, but kept it interesting.

From a band which seems to have produced masterpiece after masterpiece (consider “Swansong” a minor blip on the radar), and is justifiably said to have produced the best album of their career each time a new disc drops (yes, skip “Swansong” again), Carcass have done it again. Only the most primitive gore freaks who never moved on from the “Reek of Putrefaction” days could be dissatisfied with this album.

“Torn Arteries” takes everything Carcass has created over the past 35 years and distilled it down to the finest essence du mélodique morte métal. No one else is going to do it better than this.

Vim Fuego There is a famous incident now fondly recalled in metal lore where the legend who was Lemmy saved the career and possibly the lives of an up-and-coming Twisted Sister. The incident took place on July 24, 1982 at the Wrexham Racecourse Ground. Motorhead were already legends in their own lifetime, while Twisted Sister had been a huge fish in a small pond in their native New York/New Jersey, but weren’t terribly well known outside the East Coast of the United States. Twisted Sister’s manager wangled the band a spot in a line-up which also included such NWOBHM luminaries as Tank and Raven, and the veteran Budgie. Spot the mismatch? In a line-up of denim and leather there was Twisted Sister in spandex, stack heels, hair extensions, and gaudy make-up.

Due to cancellations and bands pulling out of the gig, Twisted Sister ended up in the slot directly before Motorhead. To say the band were shitting themselves was an understatement. In recent times the band Girl, featuring Phil Colleen in his pre-Def Leppard days, who had a less outrageous look than Twisted Sister, had been bottled off the stage. Anvil had received a similar reception for the crime of Lips wearing fishnet sleeves and playing his guitar with a dildo. Dee Snider and co. were anticipating a rough reception complete with a hail of bottles.

Lemmy, being the gent and rock and roll lover he was, said “I'll introduce you”. And he did. Lemmy told his loyal crowd to be respectful and behave themselves. And they did. Twisted Sister showed their true mettle (metal?) and eventually left the stage to what Dee Snider described as “...one of the greatest ovations of my life.”

If you’re wondering about the relevance of this story as it relates to Rogue Male, then here it is: Rogue Male never got their Lemmy introduction. If they had, then who knows what they might have done. The band had an outrageous look like Twisted Sister, but rather than psycho-glam, their schtick was more Mad Max meets Duran Duran. And they had a hard rocking sound – the second reason for the Lemmy/Dee Snider story – equal parts Motorhead and Twisted Sister.

Lead-off track on “First Visit”, their debut album, “Crazy Motorcycle” charges out of the speakers with the tempo of “Ace of Spades” or “Bomber”, with singer/guitarist Jim Lyttle rasping like a gravelly Biff Byford. Then second track “All Over You” rocks out like something from “Under The Blade”, a little more conventional and less frenetic than the previous track, but of no less a quality. “Unemployment” could almost be an alternate take on “Tear It Loose” – it actually comes uncomfortably close to the Twisted Sister song in riffs and vocal arrangements.

Title track “First Visit” is a blues-y rocker with a cocky, self-confident swagger. “Get Off My Back” is a high-paced jangling singalong, reminiscent of a cleaner sounding GBH. Throughout the album there’s no shortage of riffs and good, honest hard rock leads and solos. And the band seemed to slide effortlessly from style to style, from anthemic hard rock to near D-beat freak-out to triumphant NWOBHM majesty.

But Rogue Male just didn’t make it, and it’s hard to tell exactly why. They were touted by Kerrang! as a band to watch, so they weren’t without support. The album artwork on “First Visit” is a bit shit, like a high school art student’s take on the original Terminator, but a lot of bands with awful album covers have had long and successful careers. Hell, the album even turned up in Bad News’ touring van photo. It could have been the lack of an obvious single to promote in the different musical climate of the 1980s – while the entire album is better than average, there’s not really an outstanding song which jumps out and bores it’s way into your brain. This also means it’s hard to call “First Visit” a forgotten classic, because it isn’t, but it’s also better than a forgettable also-ran. Perhaps it’s easiest to describe this as an awkward to place album for those in the know to reminisce about and imagine what might have been.

Vim Fuego Is that a sitar? On a death metal album?

It’s an electric sitar, yes, but this isn’t really a death metal album. It’s a close relative to one though.

Before “Elegy”, Amorphis was a bit of a death metal icon. The band’s first album “The Karelian Isthmus” released in 1992 was much revered for it’s brutality and heaviness, with guitarist Tomi Koivusaari’s guttural vocals carving the band a unique spot in the death metal pantheon. And to follow that up you go even more brutal, right? Of course you fucking don’t. That’s how you paint yourself into a corner. No, you do what Amorphis did and innovate.

So, along came 1994’s “Tales From The Thousand Lakes”, and metal fans were in awe of Amorphis again. The album was still brutal and deathly, but this time it had clean vocals, courtesy of singer Pasi Koskinen. Sure, this wasn’t completely unknown, as Fear Factory had been doing it for a few years, but Amorphis did it differently, with a dose of melody, but without compromising on the metal content.

And so to 1996 and “Elegy” and the sitar. There’s also tambourines, accordions, keyboards and acoustic guitars, and it’s obvious Amorphis isn’t a death metal band any more. And that’s OK. In fact, it’s more than OK. No, the growls aren’t gone completely – they provide a stark contrast on most tracks, but Koivusaari enunciates far more clearly than most death metal vocals. The guitars are no longer distorted chainsaws, but they are far from completely clean. Amorphis was never a blast-after-blast style death metal band, more the mid-pace groove style. Their groove never really relied on chug-a-chug riffs much either, so the evolution to fluid melodic, veering on psychedelic riffs isn’t too jarring for most Amorphis fans. In fact, it all seems completely logical.

This sounds like a full-on mainstream sell-out, with a band seemingly turning it’s back on their dark, primitive roots. This couldn’t be further from the truth. As an album, “Elegy” is heavy as hell, and totally uncompromising. It’s just that it’s not traditional death metal-style heavy, and there’s no overt attempt to aim for a commercial market. This is a band well and truly expanding their horizons. Look at a track like “The Orphan”. It’s basically ambient metal, with vocals and swirling keyboards fleshing it out, and then without the listener realising it, there’s a chunky great riff playing under an ethereal choir. There’s even twin lead guitar melodies. This is the layered, textured songwriting style throughout the album.

Lyrically, the band have taken great inspiration from Finnish mythology. “Elegy” is based on the Kanteletar, a collection of almost 700 poems and ballads, and a companion work to the Kalevala, which “Tales of the Thousand Lakes” was based on. These folk tales of everyday life and philosophy seemed to have also inspired the band to folk music melodies, but still only a stone’s throw from full on metal song construction. There are so many damn good catchy riffs and melodies it’s hard to pick any in particular as the best example. There’s the mid-section of “Song of the Troubled One”, but then compare it to the introduction to “Against Widows”, or the outro to “On Rich and Poor”, and it’s impossible to say “yes, this one is the best” simply because these passages of music just keep coming.

“Elegy’ is often called a transitional album, between Amorphis’ death metal roots and their progressive metal destination, and often such transitional albums get overlooked because the albums either side are purer examples of the different genres. No band ever sets out to record an album thinking it’s going to be transitional though, and are simply making the music they feel inspired to create at that time. “Elegy” is not a transition, but an evolution, a triumph, and a masterpiece.

Vim Fuego Ever wondered what rocks Sepultura’s world? Yeah? Check this out.

The liner notes to Revolusongs say “We are a band that always played covers from the groups we liked; we learned a lot from them and had a lot of fun doing that.” And that’s what this is – a collection of songs getting “sepulturyzed” (their word, not mine).

First and foremost, Sepultura is a metal band, so you’d probably expect a decent dose of metal here. Sepultura made their name initially as an underground band in the tape trading scene and Hellhammer’s demos were a cornerstone of that scene, so the opening track “Messiah” is a fitting tribute to those days. While it was a reasonably fast track for Hellhammer, it’s a comfortable groove for Sepultura. Derrick Green’s gruff vocals are perfect for the track, out-graveling Tom G. Warrior. And most importantly, this song shows that a then-20-year-old riff still holds up decades later.

The next metal track is a rip through Exodus’ “Piranha”. The tune is absolutely vicious, like the nasty little fish it’s named after. Igor Cavalera absolutely nails the drum intro to this thrash classic, while Andreas Kisser puts his own spin on the Holt/Hunolt solo trade-offs.

The disc closes out with a spontaneous jam through the intros to Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” and “Fight Fire With Fire” - just a bit of silly fun which is cool to have on record.

Over the years Sepultura has taken metal into places far beyond their death/thrash roots. Checking the other tracks here you’ll see why. Paolo Jr is often the forgotten man of Sepultura, but without him, the band’s groove would be a bit thin and, well, grooveless. He’s absolutely to the fore in “Angel”, a Massive Attack cover. It’s a powerful song which builds on his massive bass foundation.

Sepultura flirted with hip-hop in the mid-90s while Max Cavalera was still in the band. The cover of Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos” shows that hip-hop fandom didn’t depart with him. The song features guest vocals from Brazilian rapper Sabotage, and additional scratching and programming from Ze Gonzales. Many metal fans aren’t particularly comfortable with hip-hop, but even if they aren’t this track spices it up with enough metal to keep it interesting.

In the past, Sepultura had covered punk bands like Discharge and Dead Kennedys and Ratos De Porao, and this made a lot of sense. After all, it’s not a huge jump from full on thrash to hard out hardcore. But Devo? “Mongoloid” was a weird little song even for the electro-punk new wavers. Here it has been given a full metal make-over, complete with crushing guitars and a blast-beat ending. Weird but fun. (Note: the name of the song is not seen as very politically correct these days, but the lyrics are a positive story of a man with Down syndrome living in a world where no one notices he's any different.)

“Mountain Song” was the first song alt-hard rock band Jane’s Addiction ever wrote, even before the band name existed. It’s perfectly titled, with a cascading avalanche feel which Sepultura nail perfectly. The biggest difference is in vocals, because Derrick Green’s voice isn’t within a million miles of the same register as Perry Farrell’s. No matter, it’s all transposed and beefed up to suit the rest of the song.

Now, I hate U2’s music with a vengeance. I find it to be mediocre and annoying beyond words. I can’t stand Bono’s po-faced political posturing, even though I have to admit he’s often making some good points. I find The Edge’s guitar playing to be pretty damn dull. And the other two blokes? Yeah, they don’t even register. And U2 have sold nearly 200 million albums, been streamed half a billion times, and are one of the most successful touring acts of all time, so what the fuck do I know? Sepultura obviously see something I don’t. And grudgingly, I have to admit, the cover of “Bullet The Blue Sky” is good. In fact, it’s really fucking good. Yes, Sepultura succeeded in making something I find wonderous from something I really hate.

Fuck, they’re good.

Vim Fuego Fuck The Facts has always been an abrasive band, usually right in your face, so that’s what most listeners would expect from “Pleine Noirceur”. And first track “Doubt, Fear, Neglect” doesn’t disappoint. It is just that, like a raging drill sergeant yelling in a raw recruit’s face. Until it’s not.

About three and a half minutes into the track, metallic riffs and lead guitar suddenly break into the mix. Sure, the drums are still exploding all over the place as you’d expect from a normal FTF album, but this new found dynamic is a surprise, and permeates right through the whole album. There are fans at the extreme end of the metal spectrum who dismiss or avoid grindcore because it often lacks sufficient metal elements or tropes. This is an album that can’t be dismissed quite so simply.

The band has streamlined it’s line-up since 2015’s “Desire Will Rot” album thinning down from a five-piece to a three-piece. It hasn’t made any noticeable difference to the size of the sound - it’s still enormous.

Second track “Ailleurs” seems like a return to type. It’s a minute and a quarter of blown bass, blasting drums and screeched vocals, but deteriorates into a soundscape like the last remnants of a wave washing out on a beach. Such subtlety would have been unknown to FTF in the past, as blasting angry noise usually filled the entire sonic register. Title track “Pleine Noirceur” (translates to “total darkness”) takes a similar but different dynamic (does that even make sense?) to the opening track. The introduction to “Sans Lumiere” is absolutely brutal, like a repeated kick in the face.

Vocalist Mel Mongeon is one of the best in grindcore and noisecore. In these genres, vocals are usually just another bludgeoning instrument, often rendered totally incomprehensible as a gurgle or a grunt, but hey, they sound brutal. Not so here. Mongeon’s vocals are brutal, but convey depths of emotion, and have a stark, spare beauty to them. You even fear for her emotional state in the gut wrenching “Everything I Love Is Ending”, which seems to be a bleak examination of human mortality. This album is also bilingual, as this Quebecois band writes in both English and French, and Mongeon is perfectly capable in both.

“A Dying Light” is a sparse instrumental with distant vocals more akin to a doom metal sound than something you would expect from a band which started life as a powerviolence project. “Dropping Like Flies” looks like a critical summation of 2020. It could be referring to the global pandemic which savaged the planet, or it could be about lack of respect for other humans’ lives which seems to have manifested in some sectors of society, or it could be a warning of impending environmental climatic Armageddon. Take your pick, or combine them all. Whatever the intention of the song, the lyrics paint a bleak picture.

The whole album has a cold, chill atmosphere to it, more often associated with black metal, but there’s nothing else of that genre on display here. The light/dark, hard/soft contrasts are not often expressed like this in grindcore, and the introduction of doom and death metal-tinged sections are a surprising but welcome addition to Fuck The Facts’ base sound. If anyone who has ever wanted to try grindcore but it has seemed too opaque or dense, this may well be the perfect introduction. Like a billowing mushroom cloud from an atomic bomb blast, "Pleine Noirceur" is an album of terrible but powerful beauty.

Vim Fuego Beef and Grizz were drunk again.

And when these two got drunk, everyone else knew all about it.

They weren’t nasty or violent drunks, no, quite the opposite. Grizz’s naturally friendly personality was amplified by the booze, so he became everyone’s best mate. Beef was a quiet guy, until he got a few drinks in him. Then, he was LOUD.

So, here’s the scene: we’re at a movie multiplex lining up for tickets for a late showing of the brand new Arnold Schwarzenegger movie “Last Action Hero”. We’d been out for a few drinks at a nightclub. It wasn’t a particularly classy nightclub – after all, it let us in, a bunch of bogans and farm boys – which thankfully played as much rock music as it did dance. The idea was to have a few beers, catch the movie, and then do a few laps around town, get a feed of KFC, do a few more laps, and then head for home.

Unfortunately, Beef and Grizz overdid it. They were boozed up and excited, like kids the night before Christmas. They were almost bouncing off the walls. They were shaking hands with strangers, introducing themselves, and asking if they liked AC/DC too. Y’see, Beef and Grizz couldn’t give a fuck about big Arnie’s new action-packed blockbuster. Shit, they would have been there if it was a weepy tearjerker or a documentary about echidnas.

No, it wasn’t a movie star which had brought them here, but a song. Best friends since boyhood, Beef and Grizz were AC/DC superfans, and “Last Action Hero” featured “Big Gun”, the first new AC/DC song since 1990. That’s why they were excited. We managed to corral the boisterous denim-and-leather-clad toddlers into the theatre. The pair of them chanted “AC/DC, AC/DC, AC/DC!” through the previews. All the while, the relatively more sober members of the group were trying to shush them, made apologies to the Arnie fans sitting near us, and assured the grumpy usher that our slightly intoxicated friends wouldn’t disturb other patrons.

The lights dimmed. Beef and Grizz cheered, chanted “AC/DC!” one last time, and promptly fell asleep. Yep, the darkened theatre was too much for the boozed-filled bogan boys to resist. And luckily, they didn’t snore too loudly.

Last Action Hero is a noisy movie. There’s explosions, gunfire, and car chases. On top of that, it has a loud rocking soundtrack. When this movie was released in 1993, metal and rock was in somewhat of a flux. Grunge was the hot sound, and rock fans were discovering it was OK to widen their listening palettes. The last struggling remnants of the glam metal scene was hanging on by a fingernail, and only the Big Four were really surviving in the thrash world. AC/DC, of course, were immune to any vagaries of scene or taste. And that’s exactly what this soundtrack illustrates.

Let’s leave AC/DC for now. What else set the mood in this fabulously messy flop? Let’s look at the grunge first. Like Soundgarden, Alice in Chains was one of those bands with a foot squarely in both the metal and grunge camps. “What The Hell Have I?” has a killer metal riff, some Middle Eastern-ish flourishes, and downer grunge vocals. Not exactly happy music. AIC got two bites at the cherry here. Second track “A Little Bitter” has heavy effects on the vocals, which are still dreary, and the guitars are nowhere near as metal, but are still reasonably noisy, on and off. However, there’s an evil bassline snaking through the song.

Hailing from Seattle seemed to give Queensrÿche a special place in the musical consciousness at this time. While never really a hair metal band, they were seen to be related to that scene, but the double whammy of “Operation: Mindcrime” and “Empire” meant they were loved by both the 80s metal crowd not easily adjusting to the new trends and sounds and the slacker generation who usually seemed to like their music less sophisticated. “Real World” is an epic ballad, with heavy sounding orchestration from the late Michael Kamen.

Somehow, Tesla managed to score the title track here. And “Last Action Hero” shows why glam metal had to die. Lame gang vocal in the chorus? Check. Simplistic, unimaginative riffs? Check. Whiny vocalist? Check. Predictable, dull song structure? Check. Too much wanking from the lead guitarist? Bingo!

“Two Steps Behind” huh, Def Leppard? Two years behind, at least. This sort of sugary power ballad sold by the bucketload in the late 80s, but times changed. You guys started at the same time and in the same scene as Iron Maiden? Where did your fucking bollock go? Go and take a listen to Aerosmith. “Dream On” might have been 20 years old at this stage, but it rocks harder than you do. Steven Tyler still had a voice at that stage, and Joe Perry absolutely wails live.

“Angry Again” shows why Megadeth were still relevant while a lot of their thrash metal contemporaries were falling by the wayside. It takes the slowed-down, chugged-up style from the “Symphony For Destruction” album and applies it to a brand new killer of a riff, adds an ascending crescendo passage, throws in some tasty leads, and tops it off with Dave Mustaine’s snarling vocals. Yeah, Megadeth were still doing OK because they were still making fucking metal.

Anthrax weren’t doing quite so well. Their most recent album “Sound of White Noise” had confused people a bit. Some were upset at the change in vocalist, while others didn’t like the slight shift in musical direction. In the background, record labels were being fucking dicks. Despite all this, Anthrax spat out this fucking killer of a track. It’s tight, angry, and brutal. John Bush was really gelling with the band, and gives a confident performance here. This is easily the second best song on the soundtrack after “Big Gun”.

Fishbone was one of those funky metal conglomerates that was a bit hard to classify. Long time metal fans were a bit confused by them, but the new wave of rock and metal listeners weren’t too terribly bothered, just enjoying a good tune when they heard one. “Swim” is a big chunky freak out with psycho vocals flying in all sorts of directions, while the main riff just destroys all in it’s path.

It used to be quite common to hear metal fans say “I hate all rap except…” There were a number of bands which possibly came after that “except”. It could be Beastie Boys, Run DMC, Public Enemy, NWA, or these guys, Cypress Hill. There’s not really much in “Cock The Hammer” for a metal fan to feed off, but if you like your hip-hop slightly THC-flavoured, love a squirming bassline and don’t mind the vocals, this is a rocking tune.

Buckethead has always been something of a musical chameleon. The instrumental “Jack And The Ripper”, credited here with classical composer and conductor Michael Kamen. It’s a movie soundtrack, but it’s orchestrated with guitars instead of the more traditional instruments. There’s all kinds of six string wizardry in here.

And finally, the big one, “Big Gun”. Anyone who has seen “Last Action Hero” knows that the song finally plays in full at the closing credits. It’s near on the perfect AC/DC song. It has a driving beat (apparently the final song recorded with larger-than-life drummer Chris Slade), a great main riff, Angus’ leads absolutely rip, and the lyrics are clever, full of double- and triple-entendres. If you have never seen the music video, do yourself a favour and check it out – see Arnie dressed as Angus! And of course, the opening riff woke up our sleeping beauties. There was a “yay, AC/DC!” some fists in the air, and a bit of gratuitous headbanging. Never mind that the boys had missed almost the entire movie. They got their AC/DC fix!

There’s a bittersweet end to the tale of Beef and Grizz. A couple of years later, AC/DC finally came to town. We all got tickets, which were all general admission. I watched the whole magnificent, ridiculous spectacle from the relative comfort of a grandstand, along with my family. Not Beef and Grizz. They lined up hours before gates opened at the stadium, and rushed the stage. They found themselves a spot at the barrier in front of the stage, and wrapped their arms through it. This was still three or four hours before even the support act Shihad was due to play. And they stayed there. Other friends helped them out with things like food and drink, and a convenient bottle to piss in. They took a hell of a beating too. Later arrivals tried physically to move them from the spot, but they held firm. Grizz wasn’t exactly the most physically imposing guy you’d ever meet. Beef however, was a bit bigger (why do you think we called him Beef?) and most people chose not to mess with him, but they were up against skinheads and gang members. Despite being punched and continually crushed against the barrier, the pair gutsed it our for what was as close as they ever came to a religious experience.

The concert was in November. Beef (real name Craig) was killed in a farm accident in February.

He was laid to rest in his tight black jeans, leather jacket, and AC/DC t-shirt. At his funeral, his car was parked outside the church. As his coffin was carried out, the massive sound system in his car (it doubled the value of his old Holden Torana) blasted out a final song as farewell.

“Big Gun” by AC/DC.

Vim Fuego OK, here’s the tl;dr on Napalm Death’s new album:

1. It’s still heavy, harsh shit.

2. It still sounds mostly the same as other Napalm Death records.

3. There’s some little bits that sound a bit different to other Napalm Death records.

4. This is really fucking good!

If you have a slightly longer attention span than the “too long; didn’t read” crowd, here’s a few more thoughts on “Throes of Joy in the Jaws of Defeatism”.

If you’re a Napalm Death fan, when was the last time the band genuinely surprised you? For most, it’s probably the first time you ever heard the band. But also if you’re a Napalm Death fan, can you honestly say that any two albums sound the same? There will be a few listeners who will say yes, but observe: death metal influence creeping in to “Harmony Corruption”, massive grooves on “Inside The Torn Apart”, the rediscovery of the band’s hardcore roots with “Leaders, Not Followers”.

That’s the essence of Napalm Death’s longevity. It’s not so much change for change’s sake, but the incorporation of new influences to combine with the band’s existing sound to evolve slowly to something new. This time, it seems there is a touch of alternative thrown into the mix. No, not alternative rock which seemed edgy for about 10 minutes in the 1990s, but the alternative to alternative, Harsh, heavy, and properly original, like Swans and Neurosis. Check the evidence.

“Fuck The Factoid” blasts past almost before you’ve noticed. The familiar wall of noise smacks you in the face as you would hope. Most prominent in this song, Danny Herrera still smashes the hell out of the drum kit in ways which shouldn’t be humanly possible. Shane Embury’s blown-to-bits bass is more visible on this album than in previous releases. Check his gargantuan intro to “Backlash Just Because”. The old school hardcore influence is still floating near the top. “That Curse of Being in Thrall” has abundant hardcore riffs and blastbeats, and then slams into a thunderous doom/death riff.

“Contagion” has hints of Necroticism-era Carcass in the guitar sound, but it has Barney’s dry bark layered over it, and an almost Neurosis-ish discordant drone to the chorus. Embury pulls off another vicious bass intro to “Joie De Ne Pas Vivre”, an almost otherworldly demonic sounding song with a Godflesh/Swans industrial dissonance to it.

“Invigorating Clutch” is an unabating robotic rockcrusher of a song, reminiscent of Monotheist-era Celtic Frost. No one else creates riffs like Mitch Harris – simple in the “why-didn’t-I-think-of-that?” vein, yet nobody else has thought of it.

There are so many references to different bands and genres which could be thrown in here that it makes your mind spin, but it’s all still Napalm Death to the (grind)core. There are subtleties and little flourishes which won’t be picked up on a first listen, and it’s all bathed in glorious stentorian noise.

Unlike “Apex Predator”, which was a more demanding and difficult listen, “Throes Of Joy In The Jaws Of Defeatism” could be presented to someone not familiar with Napalm Death as an introduction to the band. And for those already familiar with then band, it’s quickly obvious that even for a band well into it’s fourth decade of existence, Napalm Death is still producing music as strong and vital as at any time in the band’s long and celebrated career.

Vim Fuego 21 years ago when “S&M” came out, I eviscerated it.

I was being paid to write album reviews. Well, yeah, they were only a minor part of my job as an underpaid, overworked hack reporter for a small regional daily newspaper, but they got printed in the paper, so it counts! I called Metallica “…bloated rock dinosaurs of the type they once despised.” I said the double live album recorded with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra should have been cut back to a four-song EP, and the rest of the album should have been shelved as a failed experiment.

So much for the power of the poisonous pen. Metallica fans loved “S&M”.

It went at least gold in two countries, platinum in eight more, double platinum in four countries (including my home country of New Zealand), and triple platinum in Canada. And that’s just the audio version. The DVD concert film went gold in Austria, platinum in Brazil, six times platinum in the United States, and seven times platinum in Australia. In short, the whole “S&M” venture sold millions and millions of copies worldwide, and was an outstanding success.

With such a success the first time why not do it again on the 20th anniversary of the first collaboration? So once again, Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra performed together on 6 and 8 September 2019, and this album is the record of that occasion.

It’s a bit different to last time though. Personnel-wise, orchestra conductor Michael Kamen had passed away in 2003, with Edwin Outwater now in place. Robert Trujillo had long since replaced Jason Newsted in Metallica. And producer Bob Rock was also long gone, with Greg Fidelman now the man in charge of the mix.

The collaboration between band and orchestra seems more thorough than the original version too. There were times on the original “S&M” where the band just completely drowned out the orchestra, who seemed only to be there for decoration. This time, it seems the orchestra is more integral to the performance.

Metallica’s introduction music, Ennio Morricone’s stirring “The Ecstasy of Gold” is usually played via a tape. This time it gets a full orchestral rendition, and segues into the classically inspired “The Call of Ktulu”. Right from the first few notes, it’s immediately obvious the collaboration between band and orchestra is more thorough than the original “S&M” concerts. There were times on “S&M” where the band just completely drowned out the orchestra, who seemed only to be there for decoration. This time, it seems the orchestra is more integral to the performance.

The extra facets added to “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and “The Day That Never Comes” by the orchestra give both of these songs a fresh new sound. The rendition of “The Memory Remains” is beautiful in a heavy yet melancholic way. The audience filling in for Marianne Faithful is particularly moving.

Even the tracks from “Hardwired… to Self-Destruct” (another Metallica album I’m not keen on, but the hordes love) work really well here. “Confusion” shines with the orchestration. Lars sounds a bit puffed during “Moth Into Flame” though, lagging slightly behind the beat in the first faster section, but hey, it’s a live performance, so such things are always a possibility. Mr Ulrich gets a free pass on this one.

“The Outlaw Torn” gets it’s full ten-minute airing here, which includes the wonderful jam at the end of the song, which was foolishly trimmed from the studio original. “No Leaf Clover”, the better of two tracks originally written for the first “S&M” gets a repeat performance, with a sparkling new finish. Thankfully, the dire “-Human” doesn’t reappear.

Metal crowds aren’t really used to conductors explaining songs mid-show, but this is a reasonably common occurrence in orchestral performances. The spoken introductions to Prokofiev’s “Scythian Suite” and Mosolov’s “The Iron Foundry” do just this, and gives these pieces some context. It starts with Lars welcoming Metallica fans from dozens of countries attending the performance, and then introducing musical director Michael Tilson Thomas, who shared the background behind “Scythian Suite”. It is performed by the symphony orchestra without Metallica, and fits the program perfectly, proving classical music can be as heavy as metal. Written in 1915, the piece was originally intended for the ballet “Ala i Lolli”, but was rejected.

The collaborative performance of Russian futurist piece “The Iron Foundry” is outstanding, and is possibly the break-out performance of the entire concert. The orchestral/metal/industrial track is unbelievably heavy and mechanical, but still quintessentially organic. It segues into a beautiful introduction and rendition of orchestra and voice arrangement of “Unforgiven III”.

Apparently the late Cliff Burton first floated the idea of Metallica performing with an orchestra. In memory of Cliff, his writhing bass solo “Anaesthesia (Pulling Teeth)” gets an airing here. Principal bassist Scott Pingel had played in metal cover bands in his teenage years and was drawn to “Anaesthesia (Pulling Teeth)”, but never did anything more with it. His music interests strayed away from rock and metal, and via R&B, jazz, and fusion, ended up with a career as an orchestral musician. Pingel came up with the idea of playing the song on an upright electric bass with a bow. Initially, the song was to be a duet with Robert Trujillo, but on hearing Pingel play the song to the band, Trujillo insistent Pingel play it solo. It was the right decision. He nails Cliff’s sound and feel, but adds a modern warmth and nuance.

The final few tracks are the old classics you would always expect to hear at a Metallica concert. The orchestral representation of a battlefield at the introduction to “One” are particularly evocative. “Master of Puppets” is far more convincing a collaboration than the 1999 version. “Nothing Else Matters” was written and originally recorded with a string section, and a full orchestra only adds to the emotional depth of the song.

Overall, the orchestra adds a warmth and depth to the Metallica songs here. It seems to be a better mix than the first “S&M” album. The brass and horns add power, the strings emotion, the woodwinds beauty, and the percussion clarity. Another factor in making this the far superior orchestral collaboration is song selection. This time round it is mostly slower songs - there are no total mismatches like the dreadful messes that were “Fuel” and “Battery”. When the band does play fast, the arrangements are such that it doesn’t seem the orchestra are being left behind or just marking time until their next fill.

This could have been a pretentious mess, but it’s not. Metallica is not done as a creative force just yet. Don’t let any hack reviewers try to put you off. This album is incredible.

Vim Fuego KISS have long had a reputation for doing anything for a buck, and getting their name out in public. There are KISS coffins, er… sorry I mean KISS Kaskets, KISS cologne, KISS checkers, KISS Visa cards, and of course, the KISS comic books. Is it over-the-top tacky marketing of image over substance, or is it capitalism and market forces in action, and simply giving people what they want? With KISS, it’s an unclear mixture of both.

The Marvel Comics Super Special 1977 comic book saw Space Ace, the Demon, the Starchild, and the Catman battling villains Dr. Doom and Mephisto with their superpowers. The comic even has the band members’ blood mixed in with the ink. And so what does every comic book superhero want? A live action movie of course.

So the world got “Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park”, which first aired on the NBC network on 28 October 1978.

It’s like an overlong live action episode of Scooby Doo, but without the stoner humour. The plot is a bit convoluted. KISS are playing a series of shows at an amusement park. However the park is inhabited by a mad scientist who is supposedly developing animatronic robots for the park. But of course, he’s mad and therefore evil, so he’s creating robots of real people. He creates a Demon Gene robot which smashes up the park. While the band are busy performing, another robot is sent to steal their talismans, from which their superpowers come. And then it starts to get silly and confusing…

There’s more than half an hour of snoozefest before there’s any “acting” from the band themselves. None of the four had any acting experience, and the stilted delivery of their dialogue shows. Originally, all Space Ace was scripted to say was “Ack!” When the real Ace found out, he threatened to pull out unless he got some more lines. After demanding more lines, Frehley also didn’t show for filming some days, so his stunt double filled in. Peter Criss’ Catman lines were mostly feline puns, and his voice ended up being overdubbed anyway, as he didn’t turn up for looping (re-recording lines in post-production), and his broad accent. Gene’s Demon voice ended up either a demonic roar or a Satanic hiss.

Despite all the cheap and nasty sets, effects, and costuming, the fight scenes are actually pretty entertaining. There’s a kung fu fight after one of the concerts onstage and in the empty arena, and there’s a great slapstick/comic book-style brawl against various classic horror movie monster robots. And of course, there’s the climactic KISS robots vs KISS superheroes fight in front of a crowd going wild.

There’s concert footage interspersed through the movie. These parts offer sweet relief from the hammy acting. It was a real concert at a real theme park, set up especially to be filmed for the movie. After the real concert, the band also lip synched several tracks for filming. As you’d expect from KISS, the live performances are flamboyant and over-the-top. Perhaps a more traditional concert movie would have been a better idea?

So how did it all turn out? It was a fucking disaster of course! KISS hated it. For years, after, it was forbidden to mention the movie to anyone in the band. Gene Simmons compared it to “Plan 9 From Outer Space”, often considered the worst movie of all time.

Fans hated it. It got a worldwide release in theatres to a pretty tepid response. It was oddly popular in Australia, but this was probably because free tickets could be obtained by cutting 20 diamond shaped coupons from an ice confectionery cup called an "Icee" and pasting them onto a printed sheet.

KISS fans being what they are, eventually warmed to the movie. It slowly gained cult status, and was released on DVD as part of the “Kissology Volume Two: 1978-1991” box set. It’s one of those movies you see to say that you’ve seen it, but won’t remember well, and definitely won’t remember for the right reasons. The thought of a second viewing is a brand new horror show all of it’s own…

Vim Fuego “ReLoad” at first sight? Hey, at least this one doesn’t have jizz on the cover like “Load” did! It looks like an egg yolk, or perhaps an embryo. Wonder what the cover image is called? "Piss and Blood XXVI"? Well, fuck...

So, yeah. Like Metallica’s previous instalment in the series “How to Disappoint Long Time Fans, but Sell Millions Anyway” (more commonly called “Load” and released in 1996), this album is covered in bodily fluids. But then, should anything different have been expected? Originally intended to be released as a double album, “Load” and “ReLoad” were recorded in part at the same time. That even Metallica got bored and couldn’t be arsed to hang around in the studio to finish this off in one go is an indicator of what’s going to be offered up here.

Like “Load”, “ReLoad” is too long. Listening to it is a chore. However, it does have a couple of points of interest, but these really aren’t enough to redeem the album.

First track “Fuel” is a silly, double-entendre-laden cock rock parody. While it might be the closest thing here to Metallica’s thrash roots, the riffs are second rate and forgettable, and it is painfully infantile.

Second track and first single from the album “The Memory Remains” is the strongest song across both Load albums. It features a broken, despairing vocal from Marianne Faithful, representing a fading star lamenting a career which is slipping relentlessly from her grasp. This is pretty much as good as it gets as good as it gets. “Devil’s Dance” actually lets Jason play. Pity he’s restricted to a simplistic pulse under an unremarkable song.

“The Unforgiven II” is an unnecessary reworking of “The Unforgiven” from the 1991 self-titled album. Yes, it’s a ballad. Yes, it’s got loud and quiet bits (but in the reverse order! How thrilling!). Yes, it’s got abstract lyrics. Yes, it’s long and boring.

“Better Than You” demonstrates one of the big problems here perfectly. It’s a big, fat sounding rocker, with Bob Rock’s big, fat, comfortable sounding production stamped all over it. And that’s the problem. Rock is a well… rock producer. It’s just not metal enough. See, this band has “metal” in it’s name – the first five letters – so is it really that unreasonable to expect the band to maybe please, play metal? Oh, for Fleming Rasmussen’s sharper, crisper production style from the past!

“Slither” is filler. The first riff sounds like a truncated “Smoke on The Water”. And the vocal effects are annoying. “Carpe Diem Baby” starts off slow and pedestrian. “Carpe Diem Baby” finishes slow and pedestrian too. Another six minutes of your life you won’t get back. “Bad Seed” is sort of bluesy and bouncy, but it’s more filler.

“Where The Wild Things Are” is a bit more metallic, and has a memorable vocal melody. But those double-tracked vocals? Awful! Yuck! It’s also the last Metallica writing credit for Jason Newsted. “Prince Charming” starts off promisingly with a jamming riff, and an uptempo vibe, but at it’s core, it’s Motley Crue’s “Kickstart My Heart” forced through a Metallica filter.

“Low Man’s Lyric” however, is a revelation. A ballad that’s not your traditional power ballad, it features a hurdy gurdy and violin, giving it an almost folk rock feel. And there’s no amplified power to it. Just when you expect everyone to stomp on the effects pedals and rock out, the music pulls back from the brink again. Kirk Hammett weaves some subtle solos over this, and James Hetfield’s heartfelt vocal creaks with heavy emotion.

And then the mellow, melancholic feel of “Low Man’s Lyric” is stamped all over by “Attitude”. Nope, it’s not a Misfits cover, more’s the pity. It’s another five minutes of turgid, bland rock.

Then “Fixxxer” sneaks in at the end. Finally, something hard driving and compelling to listen to. No, not very metal, but this song is heavy in other ways. There’s some raking slide guitar, with clean solo counterpoints, a throbbing bass line, oblique lyrics, and some reptilian vocal effects. Yes, it’s similar in formula to several other tracks on the album, but for some reason which is hard to fathom, it actually works this time, after half a dozen previous fails.

This was the third album in a row Metallica had fashioned using the same safe but ultimately tedious formula with Bob Rock twiddling the knobs at the soundboard. It took them a few more years, and a disastrous attempt at changing the formula (yes, the dog turd on a putting green that is “St. Anger”) before they gave Rock the boot. While Metallica’s output since has been inconsistent to say the least, there have been no more of these flaccid monstrosities inflicted upon the metal world, so maybe it was ultimately Bob Rock’s doing? More than likely though, it was just the band’s mindset at the time. “ReLoad” may have left a lot of long-time fans feeling disillusioned and disappointed, but it was still a success in it’s own way. It didn’t chart or sell as well as “Load”, but that’s relative – it still went triple platinum in the United States, and sold multiple millions of copies worldwide. However, success isn’t a synonym for interesting.

Vim Fuego Metallica fans hate the fuck out of “Lulu”, and if it were a genuine Metallica album, this would be fully justified. I mean, take a look at it.

It’s a high concept album, based on two plays by German playwright Frank Wedekind, which in turn was turned into mostly spoken word poetry by Lou Reed, a man whose musical career is a real world embodiment of the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes. And the whole album is basically Reed droning on over some very bare bones music, which sounds like rough, rejected Metallica riffs from various times between 1984 and 1994. Any album which starts with a 69-year-old man channelling the spirit of a young girl drawling “I would cut my legs and tits off/When I think of Boris Karloff and Kinski/In the dark of the moon” isn’t going to go down well with a crowd who are more used to albums kicking off with “Lashing out the action, returning the reaction/Weak are ripped and torn away” or “Do unto others as they have done unto you/But what in the hell is this world coming to?”

But that’s the biggest problem with “Lulu” right there. It’s NOT a Metallica album. It’s a Lou Reed album, with Metallica as his backing band. The writing credits are all Reed’s, with Metallica as collaborators, and the whole album sounds like it.

And back to the self-amputation of legs and tits. This is the lead-off track “Brandenburg Gate”. Instantly, it’s obvious it’s not Metallica, but rather Lou Reed strained through a Metallica filter. “The View” sounds like a cross between Hero of the Day and King Nothing, but for the vocal delivery and lyrics. “Pumping Blood” pumps like, well… a heart, which is a blood pump. And then it goes into a section which bears a slight resemblance to the introduction to Dire Straits’ “Money For Nothing”.

“Mistress Dread” is an industrial loop freakout, the likes of which Metallica has never created before, repeating the same frantic (no not that fucking “Frantic”!) simplified stuck-record riff over and over, overlaid with drones and scrapes, and a depraved mistress caterwauling a missive to a lover over it. It’s the fastest thing Metallica has recorded since “Dyer’s Eve”.

“Iced Honey” bears striking similarities to Reed’s own “Sweet Jane”, and features his most tuneful vocal on the whole album. Musically, this wouldn’t have felt out of place on one of Metallica’s “Load” albums. The gentle intro to “Cheat On Me” sounds goes sour, and build into a brooding, throbbing self-examination.

There are a couple of quiet-ish songs which wander off into pointlessness. There seems to be little point to the self-flagellating “Little Dog”, and the minimalist “Dragon”. These are ambient spoken word tracks, until “Dragon” unexpectedly bursts into a full on rock track which wouldn’t have been out of place on the Black Album, except for Kirk Hammett’s schizophrenic lead guitar seizure. Reed’s vocals are some of his most aggressive and angriest on the whole album.

“Junior Dad” is a nineteen-and-a-half-minute marathon, which basically stretches a simple little rock ballad into a drawn-out ambient fade to musical oblivion, the last seven minutes seeming totally unnecessary, but hey, it was all part of Lou Reed’s vision, which the rest of us don’t need to understand.

Metallica exploded in the metal scene in the 1980s because they challenged the metal and musical establishment. Lou Reed, both as a solo artist and with the Velvet Underground, also challenged the musical establishment, but at a more fundamental level, even messing with the concept of what music actually is (see 1975’s “Metal Machine Music”). It seems that while Metallica were up for this deeper challenge, a lot of their fans weren’t. The obscure and emotionally confronting source material was perhaps too oblique for Metallica’s usual audience. “Lulu” isn’t easy to listen to. There are no songs of pure metal aggro, no comforting sing-along choruses, no searing solos, and very few big bollocked chugging riffs. “Lulu” delivers subtle new surprises every time you listen to it, but it seems it so alienated many listeners it won’t often get a second listen.

In essence, the biggest band in metal was reduced to the role of hired guns. Here it seemed they had surrendered creative control almost entirely to someone else, managing to throw in a few spontaneous studio jams, but otherwise totally in submissive bondage to Lou Reed’s ambiguous, androgynous vision. The lyrics and subject matter most certainly weren’t what the long-established team of Hefield/Ulrich would ever come up with. For example, what does “I puke my guts out at your feet/You’re more man than I/To be dead to have no feeling/To be dry and spermless like a girl” even mean? For a band usually in total control, it proved to be difficult to handle. Lars Ulrich was even called out by Reed at one point, challenging him to a street fight. Jason Newsted would have been entitled to have a bit of a chuckle at hearing this...

By 2011 when “Lulu” was released, Metallica was big enough that they could easily take risks like this collaboration and record an album which wasn’t a true Metallica album at it’s core, and the damage to their career would be minimal if it didn’t pay off. Lou Reed was long past caring what others thought of him, and understood the value of creating something just for the sake of creating it. His long-time friend David Bowie called it one of Reed’s greatest works, while Reed’s widow, electronica pioneer Laurie Anderson said “…this was really challenging, and I have a hard time with it.”

“Lulu” definitely didn’t pay off commercially, but it remains as a historic marker as to where the band, and a whimsical creative man, were at artistically and emotionally at this time.

Vim Fuego Yes, dear reader, this is a rap album review, but please bear with me, for a metal story is to follow. It is an ancient tale from far back in the mists of time. It is a tale of a hero bold and brave, and not really bright enough to know any better. It is a tale of fair maidens and slain dragons (or would be, if you think of the dragons in a metaphorical sense, and the maidens... er, would you consider random pictorials ripped from 1986 Penthouse magazines to be fair maidens?)

So “Licensed to Ill”? I really fucking hate this thing. I think this album is one of the worst pieces of shit I have ever had the misfortune to hear, but in all fairness to be able to write a fair review, I had to listen to it again. So...

Nope, 30 plus years haven’t improved it in my estimation. “Rhymin & Stealin” stole shit from Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin (hmm... maybe a little poetic justice in that?) with stupid whiny lyrics all over it, and it only get worse from there. “Slow Ride” pinches the horn riff from “Low Rider”, with something of a samba beat, and might be OK without the stupid raping over it. “Girls” is puerile, misogynistic Casio-rap. OK, the idiot party anthem that is “Fight For Your Right to Party” gets a pass. Its harmless, brainless throwaway rap/rock for white teenage boys. “No Sleep ‘til Brooklyn” is even more brainless, and shorter still on rock content, but does have quite the solo at the end. And the rest of the album, well there’s always the “skip” button. There, said it. Done. If all you’re interested in is what I think of the music, you can stop reading here.

However, I owe this album a lot. If it hadn’t been for the first rap album to go to number one in the charts, I might never have become the person I am today. “Licensed To Ill” started my quest for metal. Let’s wind back the clock to 1987. Internationally, it was the year of the Black Monday stock market crash, Ronald Reagan was slowly losing his marbles in the White House, a US politician shot himself on live TV, New Zealand hosted and won the first rugby World Cup, and Canada introduced the Loonie.

This story requires something of a cast of characters - no real names used here to protect the pathetic. There’s me, the heroic but slightly nerdy (OK, VERY nerdy) protagonist of this tale, and whose embarrassing nicknames will remain unrevealed. Next is Harry, music tragic, but the best friend you’d ever want, even to this day (See my review of Slayer’s “Seasons in the Abyss” for more adventures with Harry). Then there was Fru-Ju. The name has nothing to do with Jewish heritage or anything, It’s just his name bore a similarity to Fru-Ju ice creams. There was Nerd-gel, a ladies’ man in his own mind only. There were a few others too – Brickie or Brickman, Scummy (really unfortunate name, and given to him by someone whose own nickname was Egg), Jimmy… yeah, that’ll do before this all gets out of hand.

I was 14, going on 15, and was busy preparing for School Certificate, which were the big Year 11 exams in New Zealand, roughly equivalent to O Levels or GCSE in the UK, and whatever the US does at Grade 10. Basically, this means it’s a year where you’re supposed to work and study hard at school, but you’re starting to get interested in partying and fun. It’s that year when your parents say “the rest of your life depends on how well you do at school this year”, which generally turns out to be bullshit, but you’re not old enough to know it yet.

I had found that listening to music helped me with my studies, but I was quite puzzled trying to figure out what sort of music I really liked to listen to. I had a few Dire Straits albums, and I still rate the band to this day. I had Kevin Bloody Wilson’s “Kev’s Back”, the album with the infamous “Hey, Santa Claus” song, and I had a really badly recorded copy of Twisted Sister’s “Stay Hungry”. Otherwise, it was the radio. The problem with the radio was there was the occasional good song, followed by half a dozen shit songs, before the next decent tune. It was time to expand my musical horizons. But in which direction?

The radio wasn’t much help. I thought Michael Jackson’s “Bad” lived up to its title. U2 had lost some fucking thing they were looking for, but instead of looking in the last place they left it, wrote a song about it. Paul Simon wanted people to call him Al, but we all knew his name was still Paul. Talking Heads were on an endless road to no-bloody-where, and wouldn’t shut up about it. The song which was to Rickroll millions across the world decades later was unleashed on an unsuspecting public, who were gormless enough to make it the number one hit on 23 different charts around the globe.

A friend in need is a friend indeed, and I was a friend with needs, so I asked around. And what a useless bunch of pricks these guys turned out to be.

I started with Harry, who had the most valuable of all devices, a double tape deck. On the upside, Harry had few musical boundaries, so he gave me quite an eclectic mix tape. On the downside, Harry doesn’t have a bullshit filter. Nestled alongside gems like Quiet Riot’s “Cum On Feel The Noize”, Meatloaf’s “You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth” and Marianne Faithful’s “Ballad of Lucy Jordan” came turds like Kylie Minogue’s “Locomotion” and something or other by Icehouse.

Next I went to Fru-Ju. He listened to the radio more than anyone else. From him I got “Showing Out (Get Fresh at the Weekend)" and “Respectable” (which we renamed “Respectyourballs” in a show of high wit) by Mel and Kim (if you’re asking “who?”, then you’ll understand the problem), “Walk Like An Egyptian” by The Bangles, and “Venus” by Bananarama. Seems he was more interested in what the singers looked like rather than what they sounded like. On the plus side, he also recommended “All You Zombies” by The Hooters.

Brickie was a bit more promising. He suggested Europe, Whitesnake, and Bon Jovi. Scummy also reckoned Whitesnake was worth a listen. Nerd-gel was no fucking help. He really didn’t know anything about music. Jimmy was new at our school that year. He was what would be called a stoner now, but we had no idea back then. He suggested some weird shit – these bands we’d never heard of. “There’s this cool song called ‘Transvestite’ by Peter and the Test Tube Babies. The Dead Kennedys are really cool. And have you heard anything by Metallica?” He didn’t have anything by any of these bands, so I remained none the wiser.

And then Nerd-gel came up with a surprise. It was a tape with a crumpled aeroplane on the cover. Yep, “Licensed to Ill”. We’d all seen the riotous video for “Fight For Your Right To Party”, and here was the album it came from. Everyone got right into it. Except me. This shit was really stupid. It lived up to the witless label “rap crap” (yeah, not clever now, not particularly clever then) as far as I was concerned. Nerd-gel turned into a prick. First, he wouldn’t me borrow his tape. I wanted to hear it properly to see if there was something I wasn’t quite getting. I think he thought it made him special or something. Then he started adopting rap culture and language, and then so did Fru-Ju. It started with baseball caps and low-slung pants. The others weren’t quite so into the culture, but they all seemed to love this album. But I didn’t.

Then came the moment. Nerd-gel had some teen pop magazine with instructions on how to be a rap fan, and was reading it out to us in the corridor one lunch time. It had all about what to wear, what to say, and what you should and shouldn’t like. The uniform is pretty well known now. The language included idiotic words like “skeezing” (had no idea what it meant then, really couldn’t give a fuck now), and new definitions for old words, like “ill” (duh!). The shit you were supposed to like I don’t remember, but one of the things you weren’t supposed to like was heavy metal, and in particular, Deep Purple. That was the final straw for me. “Smoke On The Water” had been one of my favourite songs since I was a kid. At that moment, I rejected this fake, pretend “culture” this poser was embracing, and decided metal was what was important to me. What sort of dumb-assed trend needed a fucking instruction manual, for fuck’s sake? It was faux inner city/urban bullshit. We went to a small high school in a rural town in New Zealand. What the fuck did we know of life and culture in cities like New York or L.A.? It was about as urban as the Serengeti plains or the Amazon jungle. I’d like to think that I told Nerd-gel to fuck off, but I probably didn’t. Yeah, metaphorical dragon slain, but I was still a bit pathetic...

Almost immediately, I got Harry to get me copies of Bon Jovi’s “Slippery When Wet”, and “Masters of Metal”, one of those cheapie thrown together compilations by a record label that had heard of heavy metal, but didn’t really know what to do with it. I hammered those two albums and Twisted Sister while was studying for my exams. I passed with some excellent marks, as did everyone else, except Nerd-gel. Yep, he really wasn’t too bright.

More than three decades later, I’m still living the metal life, and still exploring and enjoying metal from the world over, while the rap/hip-hop culture proved to be a five minute fad for the others. I explored Scummy and Brickie’s suggestions further. I eventually discovered the bands Jimmy had suggested. I got a bit more metal off Harry, and gave him plenty more back in return.

Nerd-gel and Fru-Ju turned into right cunts the next year at school (quote from Jimmy: “What the fuck crawled up their asses?”), and along with Scummy weren’t around for the last year at high school. Brickie turned out to be incredibly studious, and worked flat out the rest of the time he was at high school, while Harry, Jimmy, and I enjoyed ourselves, but still did enough to pass.

So what happened to this merry bunch of nerds?

Last I saw Nerd-gel, he was working in a petrol station (that was more than 20 years ago, so he’s probably moved on from that. He was still a cunt though). Fru-Ju went off to boarding school for his final year, spent his time at university drunk, or at least he was every time I saw him, and is now a manager in one branch of his family’s business. Last time I saw him he was pissed as a fart in a restaurant with some woman (his wife, I suppose?) ranting at him.

Brickie did really well at university, and went into finance. I heard he’d had some serious stress related health problems in his early 20s. Last time I saw Scummy, he was a regional sales manager for an electrical appliance supplier. Jimmy took a gap year in 1990 instead of going straight to university like I did. He still hasn’t got there quite yet. It turns out I drive past the company where he is a manager on my way to work.

Harry and I partied too hard. Even though he did a bit better than me in our University entrance exams, he went back and repeated the final year of high school. He’s now an engineer who jets round the country, servicing high tech medical equipment in hospitals.

As for me, I went to university, and took five and a half years to complete a three year degree. I have since moved on to be an astronaut, rocket scientist, spy, and movie stuntman (what? It’s my story! Ah fuck it. I meant teacher, journalist, shop assistant, farm worker, and now technical writer). I discovered an absolute fuckton of metal on my mostly merry journey through this weird old life, and I owe so much of it to one crappy yet ground-breaking rap album.

So, thank you Beastie Boys. I hate your music, but I love what you have done for me.

Vim Fuego What offends people and what is considered offensive are unusual and changeable things. Guns n’ Roses once held the title of most dangerous band in the world, and have managed to offend countless people in a range of inventive and unusual ways. The way in which people take offence has changed over the decades since the appearance of “GnR Lies” the band’s second major release. It can be used as something of a potted study in how society’s attitudes evolve, and how something which seemed scandalous in the 1980s hardly raises an eyebrow now, while attitudes which were fine then are far from it today.

So, first the technical stuff. “GnR Lies” was released in 1988, and even the format of it is is a little ambiguous. It’s not technically a full album, but it’s too long to properly be called an EP. The first four tracks are demos recorded in 1986, but have been manipulated and cleaned up in the studio, with crowd noise and band banter added to make it seem like they are live tracks. This was originally released as “Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide”. The second set of four tracks are mostly acoustic songs recorded in the studio in 1988, and reportedly originally intended to be B-sides. Never ones to miss a trick, Geffen Records realised there was a huge demand for anything with Guns n’ Roses on it because “Appetite for Destruction” was going stratospheric, so the B-sides became side B of this album, the demo side A, and it started flying off the shelf.

Now to the offensive stuff.

Before you even get to the music, the cover is a mock-up of a tabloid newspaper. The headlines quite cleverly used the song titles with a quick blurb under it about each song, mixed in with a bunch of humorous fake headlines, and pictures of the separate band members. And what did tabloid newspapers used to have on page 3? Why pictures of scantily-clad young ladies of course, and this faux tabloid was no different. Yes, right there on the inside cover, the dream of many a teenage boy across the world – a topless woman! With no top on! Real live print boobies!

Naturally, such a thing caused a bit of a stir. A black bar appeared over the woman’s nipples in later versions. The human breast is a source of nourishment for infants, but apparently they are the only ones allowed a peek of nips! The naked human body is nothing to be ashamed of, but there is a time and place for nudity, and apparently it’s not on the inside of a record cover.

And on to the music.

The song which caused the most offence in 1998 was “Used To Love Her”. It’s an acoustic ballad, with a wicked dark streak to it. The protagonist of the song had been in love with a girl, but ended up killing her because she wouldn’t stop talking. It’s open to interpretation, but it’s easy to imagined the guy singing the song is talking to either a psychotherapist or is in a police interrogation room confessing all. Why? He may be haunted by the spirit of his dearly departed, reflecting shades of Edgar Allen Poe, or perhaps he has descended into insanity, driven to psychosis by his vile crime. Either way, the song has the sting right in the tail. On the front cover of the record there is a quick description of the song – “a joke, nothing more” - and to anyone sane or sensible, that’s exactly how it should be interpreted. The band even said it was one of the few songs they had ever written from a purely fictitious point of view. So of course, it got taken “seriously” by people looking for attention and an excuse to be righteously outraged, and they blew up an absolute shitstorm. The band were accused of promoting violence against women, murder, and misogyny. This was during a time when the PMRC were still trying to label and censor records because lazy parents weren’t supervising what their children were doing. This storm in a teacup blew over pretty quick, and it gave the band free publicity and added notoriety, which bumped up album sales even more. In the subsequent years, a psychopath has claimed he killed his wife because of this song, but there is no evidence to the truth of this, and was more than likely part of an attempt to appear insane to avoid justice.

The song which caused a bit of offense at the time, but was still deemed fit for release was “One in a Million”. In the 2016 reissues, it was left off the album. Why? Because standards of offence had changed, and the band themselves agreed. The shame of this is, it’s a powerful song, and ill-considered choices of language aside (which aren’t going to be repeated here - you know what the song says), it’s the best song on the whole album. The acoustic/semi-electric mix of guitar here lets some simple yet effective riffs shine through. Axl Rose’s vocals are some of the most raw and angry of his career. There’s venom and frustration in his lyrics, and it demonstrates feelings of disgust and helplessness at what Rose experienced when moving from small town USA to the seedier side of Los Angeles.

Since we’re on the acoustic side already, let’s deal with the other songs here. “You’re Crazy” is an acoustic version of a song from the band’s “Appetite for Destruction” debut, and if anything, rips all the harder for it. There’s a few more “fucks” and a “motherfucker” in it than on the original, and Axl spits it with seething venom, rather than wild fury like the electric version. The offense? Obscene language.

And “Patience”. This was a hugely successful single for the band. For a period of time in 1989, you couldn’t turn on FM music radio without hearing it. The song is a sickly ballad, supposedly about Axl Rose and his stormy relationship with Erin Everly, who was the subject of another GnR ballad, the far superior “Sweet Child o’ Mine”. So you’re wondering how a schmaltzy love ballad could be offensive? Just think back to the band’s debut album. What powered it’s massive sales figures? It wasn’t all just marketing and flash. Nope. It was a raw, energetic, angry rock album. “Patience” is the opposite. So the Gunners offended their own fans. A bare 18 months after the release of one of the most incendiary albums of a generation, many fans were already calling this the beginning of the end.

So let’s deal with the electric side. “Reckless Life” starts with Slash screaming “Hey fuckers, suck on f Guns N’ fuckin’ Roses!” Great! An obscene intro to the song and the album! Apparently this is an old Hollywood Rose song. Apart from the intro, it’s not particularly offensive, but it’s a good demonstration of the rough and raw rock sound which earned Guns N’ Roses their reputation.

Next up is the old Rose Tattoo rocker “Nice Boys”. The energy is similar to the original, and Rose Tatt’s singer Angry Anderson was obviously a big influence on Axl Rose’s vocal style. The offensive thing here is rock and roll itself – the full title being “Nice Boys (Don't Play Rock 'n' Roll)”. You couldn’t call either band nice boys. The sleaze and seediness of the song for both bands, from the rough side of town.

“Move to the City”, like “One in a Million”, is another small-town-kid-shocked-by-the-big-city song. It deals with a teen runaway unhappy at home, who steals from their parents to hit the city, but then finds it’s not all it’s cracked up to be – hard drugs, prostitution, all the fun stuff. It’s a fairly typical GnR rocker. Yeah, also not very offensive, but it’s about a pretty gritty sort of life.

And finally the Aerosmith standard “Mama Kin”. Aerosmith knew a thing or two about offending people, having been doing it for nearly two decades at this stage. However, for such a hard-living band, they were a bit thin skinned, as if threatened by the young upstarts. It wasn’t exactly offensive, but there were some comments in the press at the time which saw the bands sparring with each other in public. The Gunners had opened for Aerosmith on tour, and seemingly stole the younger sector of the audience from their heroes. It also didn’t help that GnR were partying hard at a time when the Steve Tyler/Joe Perry toxic twins were trying to dry out and stay off addictive substances. It’s been an on again/off again relationship, with the bands occasionally performing together in the years since.

In a single 33 and a half minute release Guns N’ Roses managed to offend a lot of people. But they also managed to sell over five million copies of what was essentially a cobbled together compilation, short on new content, but packed with attitude. It demonstrated where the band had come from, but, with the acoustic side, where they were heading. It’s paradoxically an easier and harder album to listen to than “Appetite for Destruction”. “GnR Lies” is the same but different. And it still has the power to offend.

Vim Fuego Have you ever had the chance to go back and take a look at something you did a long time ago with a critical fresh perspective on it?

From 1999 to 2001 I was a full-time newspaper reporter for a regional daily newspaper in New Zealand. Due to the paper having a limited roster of reporters, I had a number of different rounds outside agriculture and general news reporting, which were my main focus. This meant I got saddled with a few rounds I knew nothing about, including environmental news (it’s funny, but conservationists don’t like talking to farming reporters), hunting and fishing (er, never done either of those recreationally), religion (atheist, so I gave all the different churches the same time coverage), and real estate (yawn!). It also meant I got a few plum roles too – back-up sports reporter (I got paid to watch rugby!), back-up politics (I got to talk to all the opposition MPs) history (which I have a degree in), and entertainment. Entertainment was my favourite, because it meant I got to interview any passing stars of stage and screen (and radio too), and I got free stuff – concert and movie passes, CDs, video games, books etc.

The CDs I got sent for review were mostly mainstream pop music. I did my best to be impartial, but some of them were just dreadful! So I did what any self-respecting headbanger would do in my position. I started reviewing stuff from my own collection! From 1999 to 2005 (I carried on writing as a stringer after 2001) the paper I worked for had more metal than any daily paper in the whole country. Probably.

By now you’re probably saying “So what? What does this have to do with Deicide? Get to the fucking point or I’m going to stop reading!”

OK, here’s the point: Deicide’s “Insineratehymn” was one of the albums I reviewed. I have just dragged out a yellowing, tattered cutting of the Ashburton Guardian entertainment page for Thursday, November 30, 2000. The page has an interview with Kiwi rock band Shihad (former thrash metal band – sellouts!) and reviews of “Suburbia” and “Insineratehymn”, all written by yours truly.

In the interview, Shihad were promoting their latest album, which I hadn’t heard (oops! Not a great way to research your interview!), but I got to shoot the shit with bass player Karl Kippenberger, who was genuinely nice, and was happy to talk metal, and was very polite when it was revealed I hadn’t heard the new album. Full confession: I still haven’t!

“Suburbia” was a novelty album. The cover had Astroturf stuck to it, and it was 74 minutes of someone mowing the lawn. Yep, the drone of a lawnmower going up and down a lawn. Not exactly riveting, but it did make a great Christmas present for my younger brother.

Alright, if anyone is still reading, time for the Deicide review. From here on, this is the actual text from 2000, with my 2020 comments in [square brackets].

***********************************************

Deicide have often been criticised for their unwavering use of death metal clichés.[For some context, I think it was probably me accusing Deicide of cliché more than the metal media at large. I can’t remember why, but I wasn’t that keen on the band at this time. It makes me wonder why I bought the CD in the first place!]

Vocalist Glen Benton has never sung a note in his career, drummer Steve Asheim still abuses his double kick drums, and guitarists Eric and Brian Hoffman still reel off cheesy guitar solos. [I suppose I meant Glen Benton had always growled his vocals, but I probably should have pointed this out in such a mainstream publication. Those might be clichés, but Deicide’s sound has always been unique.]

However, Deicide have been playing this way for more than a decade now, and there is no reason they should change now. Does anyone ever tell AC/DC they need to change?[I still agree with this. Deicide’s sound was really distinct then, and still is now.]

As usual with Deicide, Glen Benton travels down the well-worn Satanic/anti-Christian lyrical path. While often working well, Benton dishes up a bit of a dud once on the album. The chorus to “Bible Basher” is almost funny. You can’t scream “bible basher” over and over and sound scary, Glen![Yeah, the chorus to “Bible Basher” still sounds really fucking stupid!]

However, Deicide are one of the few bands who practice what they preach. Benton still brands an inverted cross in his forehead on a regular basis, despite many thinking it was just for show.[I should have explained what the significance of the inverted cross brand was, for the non-metal audience again. How did I ever get paid for writing this shit?]

The Church of Satan has made him an honorary member, while shock rocker Marilyn Manson had to pay for his membership. Even the album cover has a stylised 666 on it.[Yeah, enough of the Satan shit. Did you forget you have a limited wordcount in a newspaper? What did the fucking music actually SOUND like? Mentioning Marilyn Manson was a good touch though – he was public enemy number one at the time, guaranteed people would read this, and probably the only Satanist most people had heard of.]

Deicide have slowed down on the odd track, to great effect. [Er, shouldn’t this be up a paragraph or two? And name some you lazy bastard! “Forever Hate You”, “Refusal of Penance”, “Standing in the Flames” maybe?] Some of the riffs come through with a crushing heaviness, where they would have been lost in a high speed blur in the past.[True. On the first two albums Deicide was just about straightforward speed. This really limited the scope of their music. The different dynamics after that really helped. Some of the slow chug riffs here, like on “The Gift that Keeps on Giving” paint a distinct contrast to the Asheim-led blast beats. “Halls of Warship” does it well too, the name of which looks like a typo, but the song’s lyrics also use the word “warship”. Who knows?]

Deicide will probably not pick up many new fans with this album, but the band has a well-established base, and are continuing to do what they believe in.[Actually Deicide didn’t really believe in this album much. It was a contractual obligation album, when the band’s label Roadrunner were being less than helpful. Deicide was far from a typical turn-of-the-millennium Roadrunner band, in that they weren’t playing commercially orientated nu-metal or rap metal, and had zero chance of ever gaining any radio play. However, in smashing out an album as quick as possible, Deicide produced a very strong album, almost accidentally. It was poorly received on it’s release, but it has actually held up well. There are some classic riffs here, and Benton’s vocals were clearer than on previous albums, but still just as bestial. He’d matured as a vocalist, if not lyricist. No, the song “Bible Basher” hasn’t got any better despite the passage of 20 years, but the other nine songs here are worthy additions to the band’s legacy.]

***********************************************

Back in 2000, I would have rated this album 2 out of 5, but this is 2020. Now, I’d double that score. This is easily a 4 out of 5. It has all the essential elements of a good Deicide album – fast, heavy, chaotic, blasphemous. Unfortunately, it has the dud opening track, which drops it’s value a little. However, get past that and you’re into some good, solid Satanic death metal.

As for a fresh perspective on the writing? It’s fucking terrible! The original review does little to adequately describe the actual music, and fails to address it’s actual audience and panders instead to a small clique of readers. The paper’s circulation was about 6,000 copies a day. Hopefully, few people if any, remember this review besides me. On the other hand, every single issue of this paper back to it’s creation in 1880 has been archived, so this hack piece will be preserved forever more. Fuck…

Vim Fuego With a band name like Cock and Ball Torture, you know you’re not going to get high art, but you can reasonably expect something extreme and nasty. “Sadochismo” is extreme and nasty, but not how you’d normally expect.

The opening track is called “Where Girls Learn To Piss On Command”. Right, nasty enough sounding so far. The first riff has something of a steady groove, and feels like it’s preparing to burst into something heavier and faster. Waiting... there’s the cum-gargling vocals. Can’t understand a thing because they are pitch-shifted to monstrous levels. Waiting... yes, there’s the double time section, and here comes the blast beat... waiting... waiting... more double time, surely it’s time for the blast beat... waiting. And that’s the end of the song. What?

OK, second track “Heterosexual Testosterone Compressor”, here we go. Ominous riff, feels like it’s building to something. There’s the horny grumbling crocodile vocals again. Oh good, a double time section… and an impending bla... nope, slowed down again. Ooh, a massive breakdown. Surely it’s time for a blast beat. Waiting... OK, double time, yes, yes, yes... no, no, no... hmm... finished again without the orgasmic release of a blast beat.

In the world of modern home-made porn, this is known as edging, or prick teasing in the old days. The victim is aroused to the edge of climax, and then... stimulation is withdrawn and they deflate again, as it were. The delicious torment continues, building to a massive, gushing, shuddering release of pleasure and ecstasy... but it never arrives. Nope. This entire mostly mid-paced album is without blastbeats!

There are other sorts of extremity on show though. “Instant Onanizer” is the most unsettling track here. Have you ever seen a Japanese porno? If not, don’t go out searching for it online. Let’s just say that female participants do not enjoy these movies. So of course, these sickos have a sample from such a flick (no, it’s not a fucking snuff movie. Even perverts have standards!). Domination and humiliation are the main objective here. You’ll either be disgusted or aroused, or disgusted that you’re aroused. And then there’s a few seconds of music.

None of this album is a comfortable listen in any way, but at the same time is somewhat hypnotic. The three-piece band do hit massive grooves, and it’s speaker-wreckingly heavy at times. The song titles are amusingly filthy – “Kamikaze Incest”, “Aphrodisianus” or “Cellulite Convoy” anyone? And the lyrics are probably along a similar line, but who the fuck can tell? Pornogrind’s most extreme element is also it’s weakest – the vocals. Yes, the voice is another instrument, and is as distorted as the other instruments, but that also renders it a bit useless to convey anything other than sound shapes. This is the reason John Tardy originally didn’t have set lyrics to Obituary’s songs. He wanted to make the right noises for the songs, and the words didn’t matter. Unfortunately, Sascha’s sicko gurgling don’t compare to Tardy in the slightest. Oh well, at least it sounds extreme as fuck.

The other problem with playing heavy and extreme is that there’s little variety in the songs. True, it’s a pretty good initial sound, but there’s little to differentiate between “Enema Bulldozer” and “G-spot Gigolo” (couldn’t resist another couple of song titles!). There’s not even a lot of variation in tempo.

In the end, this album leaves you with a case of grindcore blue balls (or the equivalent organ, whatever your gender orientation). It teases, titillates, and tortures, but ultimately doesn’t deliver.

Vim Fuego OK, so I’m not a huge Poison fan. I was right into them at one stage though. I listened to “Open Up and Say... aah!” til the tape wore out (yes, back in the 80s), and I own “Look What The Cat Dragged In”, but then I stopped listening some time around the time I first heard “Unskinny Bop”. Being bored in lockdown, I had a quick squiz through my CD collection at a few albums I hadn’t listened to much, and came across “Seven Days Live”.

I don’t actually remember buying this particular album, let alone listening to it, and can’t understand why I would have bought it in the first place. After all, I parted company with Bret Michaels and the boys in the early 90s. I was in search of harder, faster music, and they certainly weren’t producing it. And besides, no self-respecting thrasher would admit to owning a Poison album. But I must have dragged this thing out of a bargain bin at some time. Poison were always the butt of jokes for their massive hairspray abuse, feminine looks, and CC De Ville’s supposed shortcomings as a guitar player. By the time this was recorded in early 1993, CC had been ejected due to tension in the band caused by his drug abuse problems, and hotshot guitar hero Richie Kotzen had taken his place. There was a joke circulating that Kotzen would have to wear boxing gloves to play as poorly as De Ville. Funny, but unkind.

So not being familiar with Kotzen-era Poison, this is all pretty new to me. What do we have? The first couple of songs I had no fucking idea about. Bland glam pabulum. This doesn’t seem promising. If the whole album is like this, it’s going to be hard going to get through this. Third song “Ride The Wind”? Oh fuck, I HAVE heard this before! I thought it was Bon Jovi. And no, that’s not necessarily a good thing.

The next track is “Good Love”, from “Open Up...”, but I didn’t recognise it at first because it had more of a blues rock swagger than the studio original. Yeah, nah, don’t fuck with it. It wasn’t the best song ever written to start with, but if you’re going to do it different, at least do it better!

“Your Mamma Don’t Dance”, the band’s infamous Loggins and Messina cover, has a 12 bar blues swagger missing from their studio version. This time it improved the song, bringing it closer to the Loggins and Messina version. It’s still a silly party anthem.

Brett announced “Body Talk” was off “Native Tongue” so I don’t know it, but this ain’t too bad. Bobby Dall’s bass is more than solid, and these guys nailed the backing vocals. Kotzen finally lets rip with a too short solo, and Michaels proves he’s actually a pretty fucking good singer. Who’d a thought it? I hadn’t. And then Kotzen comes back for a longer, more satisfying solo. And apparently he cut it off short, because it was meant to be Brett’s piss stop song. Never mind...

You know that horrible taste you get in the back of your throat when you almost-but-don’t-quite vomit? Yeah, that’s “Something To Believe In”. Being live doesn’t improve it.

And “Stand”. More wimpy bollocks which I had heard before, but this time thinking it was Extreme. I really wasn’t paying much attention to these bands at the time these songs came out. I have no idea who these power ballads belonged to because I was more concerned with Sepultura’s changing sound, whether Bolt Thrower’s bottom end could actually wreck your speakers, and looking forward to what Entombed were going to do next.

“Fallen Angel” was a rare (for Poison’s first two albums) thoughtful song. It’s about the pitfalls of seeking fame and fortune in the big city, which the band knew about too well. It seems to have some deeper meaning to them than some of the other songs. It could have been a weepy ballad, but it’s a driven rocker instead. It’s one of the highlights of the whole show.

“Look what The Cat Dragged In” was silly, harmless fun when it was released, and it’s silly harmless fun here. It’s the epitome of what glam metal was supposed to be all about. Rikki Rockett punctuated it with a drum solo, and you know what? He’s not bad. No, he’s not Nico McBrain or George Kollias, but he knows a good rock groove when he hears it. And the solo isn’t too long, so no chance for it to get boring.

Blame the Black Crowes for “Until You Suffer Some (Fire & Ice)”. They made everyone think Southern rock was cool again. Hey, it never wasn’t cool, but the Crowes inspired mush like this.

The band really shines on “7 Days Over You”. Yes, it’s more blues rock, but this time it’s done well. It’s one of those week-long hungover break-up songs, when you realise she’s not worth it. It’s the best of the Kotzen-era songs. He shows he’s got the wailing licks and rocking chops to make a real go of this sort of music.

And so just when you thought Poison had got too mature and serious, up pops the dopey duo of double entendre filled sexytime songs in “Unskinny Bop” and “Talk Dirty To Me”. These are the sort of dumb fun anthems that made cock rock popular in the first place, but also ultimately led to it’s demise.

Or was it the ballads? Nobody ever out-ballad-ed “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn”, the quintessential acoustic glam weepy. Michaels and Kotzen together on guitar add an extra layer to the original. And that voice. No, he’s not one of the all-time great singers, but this is a guy who had perfected his craft through years and years on the road, and can connect with his audience.

Imagine finishing a show on such a downer. Well, yeah, maybe a band like My Dying Bride could finish on something melancholic, but this is supposed to be one of the ultimate party rock bands, so the finale is a belting version of “Nothin’ But A Good Time”. And this is what this is – a band having a good time, with a crowd also having a good time as a means of escaping their regular workaday lives. It’s fun, and unapologetically so.

Yeah, so Kotzen didn’t last too long after this. He turned out to be human filth and got caught fucking Rikki Rockett’s missus, so got booted from the band later in 1993. Poison sounded different with him – more mature and subtle, but a lot less chaotic and fun. He was replaced by Blues Saraceno, and eventually CC made up with Bret and got back into the Poison fold.

OK, I gotta say it. Bret, and the rest of the fellas onstage at the Hammersmith Apollo on April 23 1993, that was actually a pretty fucking good time.

I still don’t know where the fuck this CD came from though.

Vim Fuego King Diamond has one of the most remarkable voices in metal. His operatic falsetto wail was the outstanding feature of Mercyful Fate’s supernaturally powerful, distinctive sound. He then forged a successful solo career, along fairly similar lines, a little less technical, a little more theatrical. Diamond had done so much for metal. So why the hell did he inflict this monstrosity upon us?

There’s nothing wrong with the music on this album. Diamond has always assembled outstanding musicians, and the songwriting is impressive. The playing and arrangements are second to none. His voice is top notch. So what makes it a monstrosity?

The first clue is in the first few seconds of the album. “Out From The Asylum” is one of the cheesiest, stupidest introductions to an album ever. It’s just totally fucking silly. And it all just gets worse from there...

So, yeah, apparently Grandma has kangaroos loose in the top paddock, but it’s time to welcome her home from the asylum. What could possibly go wrong?

Grandma has a tea party with people who aren’t really there, but King is told to forget about it. Next, Grandma offers to teach him about Amon over another cup of tea, this time with Ma’s blood in it (hint: Amon isn’t Chris Amon, the motor racer who competed in 96 grand prix, and won the 1966 Le Mans 24-hour race).

There’s the voices of “them” which the album gets it’s name from, his sister Missy tries to stop “them, so “they” chop her to bits with a broken teapot, King stumbles outside, snaps out of the enchantment, kills Grandma, and ends up in an asylum himself. It’s such a dumb fucking story. If you’re going to do a concept album, don’t write a concept which reads like a nine-year-old’s idea of a horror movie. This is just impossible to listen to without rolling eyes, cringing, and wondering how the hell such an iconic metal artist thought this was a good idea, not to mention his band, label, or even management. Artists should have full control over what they create, but at the same time, there’s nothing wrong with someone tapping them on the shoulder and asking “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

The answer is “no it wasn’t.” If you want a good fix of King Diamond, go and listen to “The Eye” or “Abigail”, or “Fatal Portrait”. Save your rolling eyes from the strain of “Them”.

Vim Fuego Have you ever judged something and got it completely wrong? I have.

You know, made a big mistake, like Ford taking a bath on the ugly, awful Edsel, or like NASA losing a Mars lander because of a confusion between metric and Imperial measurements. Fortunately the mistake I made was a bit less costly. But first, let’s get back to music.

Most thrash fans know the story of Acid Reign reasonably well. The band had a brief, bright career in the late 80s, but called it quits in the early 90s when thrash fell out of favour. They stayed an underground cult favourite, with regular calls for them to reform, which finally happened in 2015. The reconstituted band was received enthusiastically, so tested the waters with a couple of singles, and in 2019, finally recorded their comeback album “The Age of Entitlement”. Vocalist H also decided it was time to gather up the band’s hard to find back catalogue, and put it all together in one four-disc anthology called, unsurprisingly enough, “Anthology 1987-2017”.

During their early career, Acid Reign recorded handful of demos and singles, the wonderfully titled EP “Moshkinstein” and the albums “The Fear” and “Obnoxious”. Each has it’s own dedicated disc in this compilation. It’s hardly worth reviewing each release individually, because there are perfectly fine reviews of all of these. Instead, a general impression of what the band sounded like is probably more important. Probably the most distinctive element of Acid Reign’s sound was and is the choppy, loose rhythm guitar smashing out riff after riff, giving the band a warm, organic feel at a time when other bands were looking for accurate, tight but ultimately cold and dry sounds. Over this, H wailed and shouted to his heart’s content. Not the most technically able singer in metal, H never let limited ability get in the way of enthusiasm and ambitious ideas.

All the albums, demos, and singles here have been given a studio make-over, sharpening up blunt edges, and shining dull surfaces. Each major release comes with added extras to flesh out the disc. “Moshkinstein” comes with the independently released cassette demo of the same title, a couple of tracks from the “Humanoia” single, and some extras from “The Least Worst of Acid Reign” compilation, originally recorded during the “Moshkinstein” session. This means there are three versions of “Goddess”, and two of the Norman Bates internal monologue track “Motherly Love”. This might seem like overkill, but the completeness of the collection is more important on this occasion. “Magic Roundabout” is a suitably mad cover of the kid’s TV show theme tune. “The Argument” is a discussion between H and guitarist Kev, accidentally recorded at rehearsal but kept for posterity. “Sabbath Medley” is exactly what it says on the tin. “The Fear” disc also features four tracks demoed before the release of the album, along with the track “Humanioa” from the single of the same name. The remastered album sounds better than ever.

Remember that misjudgement I was rambling about at the beginning of the review? Yeah, well here it is. Disc three features “Obnoxious”. I think I once said “very badly done”, “poorly executed”, and “a band committing musical suicide” in reference to this shocking pink clad album. Yeah, well I was wrong. Three decades after it’s initial release, re-listening to this revamped version of “Obnoxious” shows it to be ambitious, contemplative, thought-provoking, and ahead of it’s time. This is a certifiable reconditioned classic. There’s no demos with this disc, but there are the tracks from the “Hangin’ on the Telephone” single, which includes the wonderfully chaotic live cover of Bad News’ “Warriors of Genghis Khan” and a live version of “Motherly Love”. “The Joke’s on Us” and “Three Year War” were basically the swansong of Acid Reign’s career. The songs were recorded for their label Under One Flag, who apparently didn’t like them, so the band split up. Shortly after, they appeared on “The Worst of Acid Reign”. On Under One Flag. Go figure... “Big White Teeth”, “Zzur”, and “Zzur Mix” are just a bit of harmless fucking about. “A Mother’s Love” features H on vocals with Italian blackened thrash band Satanika. The band is well worth checking out.

The fourth disc in this compilation tidies up the final loose ends, with the last few old demos, and then into the new stuff. “Plan of the Damned” was the first new Acid Reign material in 24 years, and it almost seemed like the band hadn’t been away, followed a couple of years later by “the Man Who Became Himself”, demos of the two, and it’s all rounded off with a cover of “Goddess” by up-and-coming Northampton band Cerebral Scar.

Chances are if you’re an Acid Reign fan like me, chances are you have gaps in your collection, or you have these releases in a number of different formats. Here it all is together in one place, neatly underlining the first part of the band’s career, and preparing listeners for the next chapter. Long may Acid Reign.

Vim Fuego Bootleggers have been a double-edged sword in the music industry as long as there has been recorded music.

You can look at them as leeches, profiteering off someone else’s work without the true creator getting the credit and payment due for creating the original work. They often release sub-standard products, ripping off consumers and tarnishing artists reputations with low quality product. Besides all that, bootlegging is illegal.

On the other hand, consumers often buy bootleg products, knowing full well they are getting an inferior product, simply because they love the artist in question. And obviously the bootlegger is supplying something the artist isn’t. Some artists, like Metallica, embraced the bootleggers. They acknowledged bootlegging would happen, and used it as a promotional tool during their early career. Wanna get your music out there? Get ‘em to share it, even if it’s ill-gotten. The ultimate celebration of this was Metallica’s glorious lo-fi tribute to their late bassist in “Cliff ‘em All”. (Let’s not mention the Napster debacle, OK?)

Bootleggers often force the artists’ hand to release, re-release or repackage old material too. Great for consumers, shit for artists. An example of this? Unleashed releasing a live album in 1993 because there were poor quality live bootlegs circulating. The band were brilliant live, but it was an unwelcome expense for the band so early in their career. Another example? The release of Repulsion’s “Horrified”, years after the band had split up.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Morbid Angel didn’t release “Abominations of Desolation” in 1986 because they didn’t like it. The production was thin and sub-par (produced by David Vincent, before he joined the band), and then Trey Azagthoth and Mike Browning had a falling out. Browning went off and formed the awesome sci-fi death metal band Nocturnus, while Azagthoth regrouped and rebuilt Morbid Angel. Most of the songs here were re-recorded or reworded for later Morbid Angel releases, and “Abominations of Desolation” was shelved for good.

Except it wasn’t. It kept popping up in bootlegs across the world. Hell, the bootleggers were bootlegging the bootleggers, with the audio quality taking a dive with each iteration And Morbid Angel’s label Earache were getting more than a little pissed off with it. In an attempt to put a stop to the highly collectable (imagine it on red, yellow, splatter, translucent cream, or picture disc!) but dogshit sound quality product, Earache released the album in 1991 with a warning sticker that it was NOT an new Morbid Angel album, but WAS taken from the original master tape.

So what do you actually get? Well. There’s a silly invocation called “The Invocation” as an intro to “Chapel of Ghouls”. Once the music starts, it’s obvious straight away the music is slower. Browning, while a great drummer in his own right, is no Pete Sandoval. There’s a slightly tinny edge to things like cymbals and lead guitars, and Browning’s vocals aren’t near as guttural as Vincent’s from “Altars of Madness”. On the positive side though, there’s something about Azagthoth’s and Richard Brunelle’s soloing which sounds slightly more unhinged than the re-recorded versions. There’s a rough, spontaneous quality which had mostly been smoothed out in the intervening three years.

And that’s basically the story of the album. Anyone familiar with Morbid Angel will know these songs. Everything here got reworked with new lyrics, new titles, or new arrangements on “Altars of Madness”, Blessed Are The Sick, “Covenant”, and “Formulas Fatal To The Flesh”, except the track “Demon Seed”. And is it worth picking up “Abominations of Desolation” just for that 2 minute 12 second track? Honestly, no it isn’t. However, this album IS worth picking up if you’re interested in hearing how songs and ideas develop from their rough or initial forms through to the finished product. None of these versions are superior to their later counterparts, although “Welcome to Hell” which became “Evil Spells” is at least the equal of the later version.

There doesn’t seem to be any indication that this was re-mastered or had any other such studio trickery applied in 1991, so from the sounds of it, and the limitations of the day, David Vincent did a pretty reasonable job, despite Azagthoth’s dissatisfaction. Would it have made a big difference if this had released in 1986 instead of 1991? After all, it would have predated Death’s “Scream Bloody Gore”, and would have been the first fully fledged death metal album. Probably not. No one was listening then. Or, not enough people were. Bands like Necrophagia and Repulsion were making similar sorts of noise at the time, but had tiny underground followings.

The extra few years saw the appetite for death metal grow, along with Morbid Angel’s fearsome reputation in the metal underground. It also helped that the band had secured a record deal, and were able to record “Altars of Madness” with a professional mix and at least a little bit of a recording budget. So really, this is for completionists only. But if you’re a Morbid Angel fan, you’re going to be a completionist anyway.

Vim Fuego The state of Western Australia is big. Really big. It’s so big that if it was a country in it’s own right, it would be the 10th biggest country in the world (for comparison Texas, which is a metaphor for big itself, would be the 39th biggest country). But then at the same time, there’s hardly anyone there. In a land of over 2.5 million square kilometres, 1.7 million people live in and around Perth, and population density across the entire state works out to a bit less than one square kilometre per person. Perth itself is a long way from Australia’s populated east coast. The flight distance to Sydney is 3290 kilometres. The distance from Sydney to Auckland in New Zealand, considered one of the most isolated countries in the world, is only 2164 kilometres.

So far, so high school geography class, you might be saying. What’s the point of the demographic and distance statistics here? The point is, that if you were trying to come up with a place where the biggest band in Aussie metal came from, Perth would probably be well down the list. But it happened. The place which gave the world actor Heath Ledger, musicians The John Butler Trio, and writer Greg Egan also produced Allegiance.

Allegiance came to the thrash scene just a little late, forming in 1990, but the band had an almost instant impact on the Aussie metal underground. Three well received demos and tight, hard-hitting live performances of intense, technical sounding thrash cemented their reputation as the must-see band of the early 90s. Music press plaudits and industry awards abounded. Taking Testament’s silky smooth fluidity with a bit of Metallica-style bludgeon, and their own original twist on thrash, Allegiance crafted two fine albums during a reasonably brief but notable career, the first of which is was the excellent “D.e.s.t.i.t.u.t.i.o.n”.

There’s the obligatory intro called “Intro”, and then the band smashes in to “Chaos Dies”. Initially, it sounds like something you could hear on any one of hundreds of earnest, well executed thrash albums of the era. It doesn’t really strike you as anything too remarkable, but hey, it’s listenable. Vocalist Conrad Higson has a Phil Rhind/Chuck Billy vibe to his voice – tough and a little raspy, but clear with a touch of melody. And then three quarters of the way through the song it all changes – all of a sudden the tempo kicks up a step, and solos fly off in all directions, and then it stops on a dime. Sit up and take notice – these guys have some fucking serious chops. They really know their stuff!

“One Step Beyond” chugs and stomps, and then accelerates into a headlong charge. The song eases between the two tempos, hits a blast beat, is topped by some fine liquid lead guitar, all while maintaining a consistent groove through the song.

“Torn Between Two Worlds” is another old fashioned chugger transformed to a feeding frenzy, and back again. There’s nothing obvious happening here. Each song seems to turn and twist in it’s own direction, unexpected, but not unwelcome. There’s variety in the song writing, but it’s all anchored fair and square in thrash.

“Morally Justified” hits with a high speed riff which would have left Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King wondering why they hadn’t thought of it. It chokes back in the chorus, but then blasts off again throughout the song. And in this, it demonstrates what Allegiance did so well with song dynamics. Thrash metal fans love thrash metal because it’s heavy, and because it’s fast, and sometimes because it’s both at once. These guys perfected the art of knowing when to play heavy, fast, and heavy and fast.

And then the eighth track “Path of Lies” throws in another fresh ingredient – death metal vocals! Yep, two thirds of the way through the album and these guys unleash another secret weapon. A short-ish blast of a song, the guttural vocals accentuate it’s brutality. And just to prove it’s not all about brutality, technicality and speed, closing track “Tranqullity” is a gentle piano piece played by guitarist Jason Stone, accompanied by a string section. It has that most vital of effects in an album closer – it leaves you wanting more.

It’s hard to pick a single highlight above all others, such is the quality of the work here. The guitar duo of Stone and Tony Campo trade off slamming riffs and solo duels. Drummer Glenn Butcher drives it all in an impressive performance, punctuating fills and varied rhythms with blast beats where appropriate. Bass player and lyricist David Harrison doesn’t often come to the fore, but when he does, it’s obvious he’s a master of his art. His lyrics are both thoughtful and thought-provoking.

These guys became the biggest metal band in Australia, without compromising their sound, but that’s precisely what metal fans love – integrity and lack of compromise. Just look at the band’s thanks in the liner notes. There are thanks to dozens of bands, zines, magazines, metal radio shows, tape traders, distributors, and fans the world over. They played the Big Day Out, and toured with such luminaries as Fear Factory, Kreator, and Fight. [As an aside, Rob Halford and his management company promised big things to Allegiance, but sadly never delivered. Who knows how much bigger this band could have been if things had played out more favourably.]

And then it all abruptly came to an end. The band split in 1997. Allegiance have become cult favourites since, and have reformed sporadically. They were inducted into the Western Australia Music Industry hall of fame in 2003. “D.e.s.t.i.t.u.t.i.o.n” should be inducted into your metal collection as soon as possible.

*in the writing of this review, I have variously typed the word Allegiance as Allegaince, Allergiance, Alegiance, and Alllegiance. This officially makes Allegiance the hardest band name I have ever had to spell. I struggled less with the name Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis.

Vim Fuego Metallica’s self-titled 1991 album was a big surprise.

Also known as the “Black Album”, it surprised long-time fans in the radical change of musical direction the band took. The cover was a bit of a surprise in its Spinal Tap-like none-more-blackness. The choice of Bob Rock as producer was a big surprise, since Rock was better known for producing metal pretenders like Motley Crüe, not a contender like Metallica. And perhaps the biggest surprise of all was how the popularity of the album absolutely took off. It sold tens of millions of copies, made Metallica a household name, and made a huge impression on metal and rock the world over.

Following up such a monolithic album was always going to be a challenge, but this was a band which had always tackled challenges head on. They had been uncompromising as a young band, hiring and firing who they felt they needed to complete their all-conquering line-up. They soldiered on and recruited a new bass player after the tragic death of Cliff Burton. They didn’t bow to MTV pressure and achieved success on their own terms. And then they created a big, black-clad monster. What came next was anyone’s guess.

And nobody guessed.

Five years after the “Black Album”, “Load” hit the shelves, with a sticky looking cover, made of blood and jizz. Inside the bodily fluid covered cover, there was photographic evidence of haircuts, new wardrobes, and make-up. All this caused a stir even before the album landed. Yes, there had been a single released a few months earlier, the hard-driving “Until It Sleeps”, with its Heironymus Bosch-inspired music video, but it didn’t prepare fans for the massive image shift.

And then the biggest surprise? The music. Of course it was the music. It’s always meant to be about the music. And surprisingly enough, what “Load” served up was an even duller version of the “Black Album”.

There was no return to the thrash roots, as many long-time fans were still vainly hoping for. The heavy was dialed back – there’s nothing that approaches Sad But True’s Godzilla stomp. And there were a few more non-metal shades infecting the music. It sounded like more of the same, but less. And more. More in that this album is too long. It’s an absolute chore to sit through all 79 minutes of it. Towards the end of the album, you find yourself checking “Is it nearly done yet?” Ever done that with Ride the Lightning or Master of Puppets? It seems the band had got too big, and too self-important, and just didn’t know when to fucking stop. And who was going to tell them to?

The album kicks off with “Ain’t My Bitch”, a slightly more up-tempo song than those on the “Metallica” album, but James’ singing seems to have lost its edge. Also, the gut churning bottom end which made up for some of the previous album’s loss of tempo is gone. “Ain’t My Bitch” just ain’t as heavy.

“2x4” swaggers and swings, and Kirk wails on the lead, but it’s ultimately pedestrian. It’s different to what Metallica had ever done before, but it is also unadventurous.

“The House That Jack Built” is more like it. The dark Lovecraftian Gothic shade hinted at by the “Until It Sleeps” single is back. It has some great melodies, it’s has the body-slamming heavy vibe, and there’s even vocal harmonies. There’s some creepy wah pedal effects, along with talk box guitar, popularised by Peter Frampton, and used by Mick Mars on “Kickstart My Heart” – could this be Bob Rock’s influence again?

“Until It Sleeps” is the first outstanding song on the album. It is nightmarish and creepy, heavy and compelling. It uses contrasting dynamics highly effectively, and isn’t ploddingly obvious like some of the other songs here. James Hetfield’s oblique esoteric lyrics are open to interpretation (hint: it's about cancer!), but this definitely isn’t a happy song!

“King Nothing” and “Hero of the Day” are slightly less dark, but both are hard driving, dynamic songs. “King Nothing” harks back to the “Black Album” again, with a big main riff, but with more going on around it, and like “Enter Sandman”, revisits childhood verse in an adult context. “Hero of the Day” mixes soft/loud/soft, light/heavy/light song structure, and builds to an almost thrash mid-section, punctuated by stuttering kick drums from Lars Ulrich. The song includes some of Kirk’s best lead guitar on the whole album, and one of Hetfield’s smoothest vocal performances ever. By the final fade, it feels like Metallica might have pulled it out of the fire, and delivered a good album after all.

Yeah, nah. Didn’t happen. It’s mostly downhill from here.

“Bleeding Me” is just long and boring. Yeah, there’s another big riff, there’s more solos and shit, but it’s all the same damn plodding tempo we’ve already heard.

“Cure” is pure filler that those kings of poorly padded albums KISS would be proud of. What’s the fucking point of this song? It’s a boring shit sandwich of a song, the lowest point on the whole album. It’s only slightly longer than “Fight Fire With Fire”, but feels like it’s never going to end.

“Poor Twisted Me” has a megaphone vocal effect, which is really the most interesting thing about it. Once again, mid-tempo and little purpose. “Wasting My Hate” starts with a bluesy riff and vocal, and threatens to take off, but just settles into that mid-tempo groove again. Every time it seems like it’s going to get good, it gets pulled back from the brink and ends up squarely in mediocre again.

If you make it through those four turgid lumps of over-produced yet half-baked stodge, you’re treated to a diamond in the not-rough-enough. “Mama Said” is a country-tinged ballad. Though they built their reputation on hard charging thrash, Metallica have always been amazing balladeers, because they always avoided the clichés the 80s hair metal bands built their hits around. Metallica always understood when to stomp on the overdrive. The song is fleshed out with multi-tracked vocal harmonies, a string section, and steel guitar. “Mama Said” is heart-felt and emotionally powerful, written about Hetfield’s mother, who died of cancer when he was only 16.

“Thorn Within” once again promises much, and delivers little. There’s simply no risk taken. It drives straight down the middle of the road Metallica have been building for much of this album. “Ronnie” is painful country/blues infused mid-paced metal. Yep, mid-paced. Again. It’s like the whole album is stuck with the handbrake on.

Don’t expect any mercy just because you have reached the end of the album “Outlaw Torn” creeps promisingly, like a bulldozer track, slowly crawling and crushing all beneath it. And finally, what we’d all been waiting years for but heard only sporadically – Jason Newsted prominent in the mix! His subtle but supple bass weaves through the main theme of the song. With all the ostentatious egos and undoubted talent of other band members here, it’s easy to forget what a maestro Metallica had in their bottom end, but here is one of their greatest resources wasted on a meandering fade out to nothing. This song clocks in at nearly 10 minutes long, but apparently is missing the best part of the song cut off the end, because they ran out of space on a CD. You should have dumped one of the other songs, you stupid bastards!

“Load” is what Metallica felt like they had to record. It’s safe and unchallenging. After all, what do you have left to do once you’ve conquered the metal and musical world? You cement your base by delivering more of the same, without alienating or scaring your massive fan base. There IS a good album in here. It’s just it’s buried under an avalanche of pointless detritus.

Vim Fuego No compilation is quite definitive of a genre.

Think about it. One of the most famous compilations in all of metal is the 1980 album “Metal For Muthas”. This album exemplified the essence and feel of the NWOBHM, a scene which combined an invigorating new take on metal combined with the DIY ethos of the punk scene. It was a great starting place for the scene, but definitive? The NW in the acronym stands for new wave. Nutz had been releasing albums for six years. The B stands for British. E.F. Bands was Swedish. And the HM is, of course, heavy metal. Toad The Wet Sprocket and the aforementioned Nutz let the team down here. There was some excellent stuff on this album, like Iron Maiden, Praying Mantis, Samson, and Angelwitch, but Geoff Barton, he who coined the tongue twisting NWOBHM acronym, rated this album a lowly two out of five. He called the album an embarrassment, and “metal for masochists”, because it basically missed the point of the NWOBHM. Perhaps “Metal For Muthas” was too ambitious, or the whole scene too wide and amorphous to be covered by an album or two (the second inferior volume followed later the same year). Think of the names missing here – Def Leppard, Saxon, even Diamond Head.

However, compilations were a hugely important promotional tool for underground music scenes. Many punk scenes the world over did a great job of getting their sounds out there through the art of the compilation. There would be unexpected hits and inexplicable misses, but compilations were often the best way to get music to a wider audience when there was zero chance of radio play or mainstream media coverage.

As the NWOBHM faded, the winners departed on world tours, the losers went back to their day jobs, and another embryonic scene started to bud and blossom. It was more international than the NWOBHM, but was still a bottom-up groundswell, and borrowed a bit of the punk sound as well as the ethos. That was the speed metal movement, or as we know it in hindsight now, thrash metal. The first compilation to include this new style of music was volume 1 of Metal Blade’s long-running “Metal Massacre” series, released in 1982 and featuring a band called “Mettallica”. Yeah, Metal Blade’s forte was metal, not spelling.

By 1985, this scene was really starting to come into it’s own, and a handful of independent labels were starting to grow some impressive rosters. Through cross promotion and co-operation, British label Music For Nations managed to secure tracks from some of the more important independent metal labels and almost put together a genre defining compilation. Almost...

If you run through the roster of bands here, you find Venom, who along with Motörhead were really the grandads of thrash metal. You get three of the not-yet-labelled Big Four (it seems that label arose in 1986). There’s Celtic Frost and Possessed, without whom doom, death, and black metal would be very different beasts to what we know now. You get Exodus, who were a bit late out of the starting gate. There’s a track from Canadian space cowboys Voivod, before they went full cyberprog. The most obvious gap here is the German one. Yes, there’s Destruction at the top of their bestial game, but the rest of the German biggies are missing – no Kreator, no Sodom, no Helloween (Helloween belonged in that company in those days, and Tankard was still a year off releasing their debut album). So not a perfect definitive roster, but pretty fucking impressive in it’s own right. So what’s actually here?

First track “Metal Merchants” by Hallows Eve is probably the easiest to digest stepping stone for a traditional metal fan stumbling across this album. It’s a perfect cross between NWOBHM melody and the new-fangled speed metal tempo. The noodling riff and militaristic snare of the introduction (actually a separate track called “Valley of the Dolls”, but run together here as one song) pulls the listener in before the smack in the face of the main song bursts into full on thrash riffing overlaid with NWOBHM leads.

Hallows Eve really doesn’t prepare the listener for the next track. Exodus’ “A Lesson In Violence” is just what it says. This song is violent as fuck. Paul Baloff’s vocals are vicious and full of hate for the uneducated. There are a lot of ifs, buts, and maybes which have dogged Exodus’ career. Forget them and soak up the metallic fury here instead.

Destruction’s “Bestial Invasion” is a good choice here as it is a lot darker than the catchier “Mad Butcher”. There was an element of Venom worship in some of Destruction’s early material, but Schmier’s vocal style is quite different to Cronos, and this is far more technical than what Venom was famous for, and showed a band which had carved out it’s own evil little niche.

Bulldozer is the least known band here, having formed in 1980. If even recognised at all, these Italian thrashers are often remembered as second rate, but “Insurrection of the Living Damned” is the blackest song here (yes, even more so than Venom), and their evil sounds have attained a strong cult following in the black metal underground. Alberto Contini’s gruff vocals are particularly impressive, and this track showed a band confident enough not to have to play flat out all the time.

Metallica sounds streets ahead of everyone else here. “Fight Fire With Fire” is professional and clear sounding, and fast as fuck, sharp, and vital. If you don’t know this song, you probably shouldn’t be reading this review, so no use in describing it. Where did this band go? And how the hell do you follow the most intense song of Metallica’s career? Well, with Slayer, quite obviously. While it’s not stated here, and hasn’t ever really fully been clarified, this sounds like the in-studio-live version of “Evil Has No Boundaries” from the “Live Undead” EP. It’s barely controlled chaos. The lyrics and image are cheesy, but it’s executed so convincingly that listeners forgot to laugh at them. A young Tom Araya sounds particularly gleeful here.

Possessed kick off side 2 (This was 1985. CDs were ridiculously expensive to produce, and most metal labels couldn’t afford to press them, so you had vinyl or cassette) with “Pentagram”. It is Satanic and evil sounding enough to have caused a Christian panic, complete with backmasking and and an evil sounding riff.

Exciter was right there when it started, one of the first handful of thrash metal bands to release an album, not far behind Metallica and Slayer. Yet “Riders From Darkness” is the weakest track on this entire album. It’s earnest but silly speed metal, and really demonstrates why Exciter are a footnote in metal history and not remembered as a major player.

The version of “Black Metal” included here is not the same as the one from Venom’s classic second album of the same name. The production has been tightened and sharpened, which removes the blackened rough charm of the original. Fear not though, this makes up in power what it lacks in raw energy, and isn’t a disappointment.

Speaking of raw, Voivod’s “War and Pain” is bleeding edge, with lacerating guitars, weird, crashing riffs, and nasty, incomprehensible vocals. Voivod has never been an easy or comforting band to listen to, and fans wouldn’t have it any other way.

You can’t keep a good Dave down, and Megadeth’s “Rattlehead” is a storming track. Technical, sharp, and fast, nevertheless it’s not as heavy as Metallica. And this is the last time you’d see the two bands on the same bill for 25 years. Never mind, listening to Dave Mustaine trying to out-do his former bandmates is always a pleasure.

“Into The Crypts of Rays” is a bit faster than most Celtic Frost songs, but this is a speed metal compilation after all. The song perfectly displays the proto-death metal riffing and Tom G. Warrior’s signature death grunt, and is a strong finish to a classy collection.

The best thing a compilation can do is to whet the listener’s appetite to explore further. “Speed Kills” teases and titillates like a lingerie ad on a bus stop. You want more? Go get it. Just keep your state of arousal under control in public.

Vim Fuego When Possessed went through their various bust ups, there was a feeling among fans that the band’s true potential was never fully realised.

Through the legendary “Death Metal” demo, the influential “Seven Churches” album (NOT the first death metal album. No, it just fucking wasn’t, even if this site says it is!), the slightly more polished “Beyond The Gates” (which has one of the stupidest album covers ever), and the mellower “Eyes of Horror” mini album, Possessed had created a small, powerful, but occasionally patchy catalogue of evil, high energy thrash.

The band first split in 1987, not long after the release of “The Eyes of Horror”, with a variety of fates befalling the various band members. Guitarist Larry LaLonde joined fellow San Fran thrashers Blind Illusion, and then to rock weirdos Primus. Guitarist Mike Torrao continued with the Possessed name, but the band’s reputation had declined to the point where they suffered the indignity of playing support to an up-and-coming unsigned band by the name of Machine Head. Bass player/vocalist Jeff Becerra was shot in 1989 during a robbery, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Swept away in the great metal purge of the early 1990s, it seemed this legendary band had died young and left a beautifully ugly corpse.

But then an unusual thing happened. Possessed came back from the dead. “Revelations of Oblivion” is the result. The wheelchair-bound Becerra decided that 32 years was long enough for the world to be without a new Possessed album, so put together a band, wrote some songs, and recorded this little beauty. It all looks so easy when written like that...

When the creation of this album was first announced, the naysayers were quick to jump in with opinions on how bad it would be. After all, there’s only one original member left in the band, often not a great recipe for success. However, the most important element is the one that’s left – Becerra’s distinct shout/scream vocals. Have you ever tried singing sitting down? No, not just at a birthday party or in church (eek!), but really SINGING. Ever notice that professional singers always stand? Look at opera singers, choirs, and pretty much any band or performer you ever see. Singers stand. Why? Because that’s where the power comes from. Volume and breath control comes from being able to stand and move freely. See where this is going? Jeff Becerra is confined to a wheelchair. Listen to his vocals. The difference between 2019 and 1987 is negligible. Yeah, studios, recording methods, technology and all that shit have advanced immeasurably in those three decades, but you can’t work wizardry unless you have the right noises to work with in the first place. Becerra still sounds angry, evil, and most importantly, powerful. Don’t underestimate the difficulty of what he has achieved here.

And the naysayers can fuck off. “Revelations of Oblivion” finally realises the full potential of what Possessed always threatened. No, this won’t have the impact or influence that the band’s earlier work did, mainly because there’s a shit-ton more top quality extreme metal in the late 2010s than there was in the late 1980s. Extremity has sprouted in numerous black, dead, grinding, and technical directions since that time, and any single release now will have a more specific audience than back in Possessed’s initial run. However, if old school thrash which dabbles in cartoonish Satanic themes is your thing, then you won’t top this.

“Chant of Oblivion” is ye olde traditional spooky intro track. Tolling bells fading in with spooky horror movie orchestration and chants. So far, so clichéd, so fucking good!

And then the album bursts straight into the speedy evil “No More Room In Hell”. The first and most obvious thing is that while the sound is sharp and clear, it’s distinctively Possessed. No one else wrote or played wrist snapping riffs like that. Spiky, sharp guitar riffs, courtesy of Daniel Gonzalez and Claudeous Creamer, fly off each other. And that’s the great thing here. There’s nothing these two do which would have been out of place if done by LaLonde and Torrao. It’s Possessed, done in the style of Possessed.

Drums were always the weak link in the original Possessed line-up. Mike Sus was enthusiastic, but never very technically proficient, and couldn’t quite keep up with the rest of the band. No longer. Well, Sus is no longer in the band anyway, having gone on to become a psychologist, but drummer Emilio Marquez doesn’t miss a beat, which is a dreadfully clichéd way to describe a drummer, but this guy is faultless and powerful, and clichés become clichés because they fit.

Drums and guitars aside though, this is really the Jeff Becerra show. “Damned” has a great vocal melody, with rapid fire rhyming couplets, which gives it a weird evil Dr Seuss feel, but it’s near flawless. “Shadowcult” features a wicked chant. “The Word” blasts in with a great opening riff, but as soon as Becerra’s rasp hits, it’s obvious the guitars are only there as a vehicle for this voice.

In 2006, Celtic Frost surprised the metal world with “Monotheist”, easily their strongest album, a decade and a half past their supposed prime. Strongest, yes. Most influential, no. It was never going to be since times had changed. The same thing has happened here with Possessed. “Revelations of Oblivion” is stronger and more consistent than anything Possessed created in the 1980s, but despite finally realising the band’s full potential. it’s not going to have the impact of the previous albums. Unlike Celtic Frost though, let’s hope Possessed don’t call it a day after this.

Vim Fuego Having lived and worked on farms most of my life I think I’m a pretty good judge of the gory and gruesome.

I have picked swarms of maggots from the putrefying flesh of living animals. I have been splattered in grey matter (yep, calf brains) and guts, bathed in piss, and showered in shit. I have removed rotted placenta and foetal material from the birth canal of a half-ton beast. I have cleaned up two inch deep jellied blood from euthanised sheep. I have killed animals with blunt force and firearms alike (clarification: never, ever for fun - always from necessity). I now work as a medical writer, dealing with pictures of gonorrhoeic genitalia, ulcerated eyes, suppurating sores, and scathing skin rashes. Blood, pus, viscera, excreta, it’s all part of life. Someone has to deal with it, and quite often that someone has been me.

Pissgrave have achieved something with the cover of their second album “Posthumous Humiliation”. They caused me to look away in disgust. Yep, the cover of this album is utterly revolting. Well done!

Why “well done”? Because it’s hard to get a reaction of disgust out of me, without resorting to inhuman and inhumane cruelty (I don’t go looking for torture and murder for fun). While the victim of the illustration here is obviously dead, it looks like the result of a violent accident rather than a willful act of violent depravity. Cannibal Corpse left the imagery of a hammer smashed face to the listener’s own imagination. Pissgrave brought that image to life... er, death.

And after a cover like that, you’d probably expect a vile mishmash of formless near noise, right? Not this time.

Pissgrave’s thing is some pretty fucking solid death metal, accented with guttural beyond goregrind vocals. This differs from your usual loose labial grinding gore mess in that it’s tighter than a gerontonecrophiliac’s nutsack at the site of a plane crash full of senior citizens. The music is structured, and the riffs are actually pretty fucking good. If you’ve ever thought “I wonder what Autopsy would sound like if they had been a bit faster and tighter”, then here’s your answer. Of course, part of Autopsy’s charm is the way the band always skirted the edge of total disaster, but still...

Pissgrave’s riffs are tight and focused. This is proper death metal, and while not up to the quality of something like Cannibal Corpse or Morbid Angel (what is?), it’s streets ahead of the heavy-for-heavy’s sake deathcore/slam multitudes. There are solos in the frantic Rick Rozz style of old school Death and Massacre, strings squealing on the verge of snapping. The drums aren’t mindless blasting or a robotic mechanical rattle. Don’t worry – there’s more than enough blast beats and double kick drums to go round, but there’s enough space left in the mix for contrast and definition.

The vocals are the big point of difference. The pitch-shifted guttural growl is amped and fuzzed within an inch of white noise oblivion, almost completely blown out. A lot of grind bands do this by accident with a mushy, muffled sound. In this case, it’s voice as instrument, like John Tardy’s early Obituary efforts, except a shitload faster, and more mangled and manipulated.

Pissgrave are really at their best when they hit a high speed groove, like in second track “Canticle of Ripping Flesh”. The music is frenetic and chaotic, but from it a sub-melody emerges. It’s the kind of groove death metal pioneers hit, and new school tech-deathsters miss. That’s why a lot of people still love the old shit and get left cold by a lot of the new stuff. It brings death metal to life. And despite the dead bad luck of the unfortunate cover model, this is an album full of life. True, the “life” is probably gangrenous, highly infectious, and purulent, but this is an album which is much smarter than it may appear at first glance. If you’re brave enough to take a second glance, Pissgrave have distilled the essence of old school death metal and spiced it up with some new school flavours.

Just don’t look at the album cover while trying to eat...

Vim Fuego Dear Sony Music,

I wish to take issue with, and express my displeasure at, your 4 disc compilation album “Pure…metal”, released in 2014.

It seems like a generous compilation, pulling together 61 songs for a discount album price. However the title of this album, I believe, is misleading, if not downright false. While this album does contain metal, it is not pure, in any way, shape or form. Please observe the following:

Disc 1: Exhibit 1: “Breaking The Law” by Judas Priest and “Poison” by Alice Cooper. Right, so I have contradicted my argument with the very first piece of evidence… or have I? While there is nothing wrong with either song, and both qualify as metal (just, in the case of “Poison”), I believe these are so over-used in compilations as to render them diluted. “Breaking The Law” features on two more compilations I own, while “Poison” appears on five other compilations, including another IN THIS SERIES. “Poison” is featured on the “Pure…hard rock” compilation too, which pre-dates this one by three years. Had you run out of ideas Sony Music, or did you not suspect that a metal fan might also be a hard rock fan?

Exhibit 2: “Slither” by Velvet Revolver. This song won the Grammy for “Best Hard Rock Performance” in 2005. Hard rock is not pure metal. Exhibit 3: “B.Y.O.B” by System of a Down. Actually, this song fucking rocks. Note to self: come on dude, focus. We’re looking for the clueless shit here, not the stuff that fits…

Exhibit 3a: “Tears Don’t Fall” by Bullet for my Valentine, “Got The Life” by Korn, “Scream With Me” by Mudvayne, “Welcome Home” by Coheed and Cambria. Bullet for my Valentine is undoubtedly a metal band – now. However “Tears Don’t Fall” came from the band’s first album “The Poison”. It is an emo album. Korn and Mudvayne are nu-metal bands. I object to them on principle. Coheed and Cambria does not qualify as metal. While undoubtedly a fine progressive rock band, they do not belong here, and besides, they bore the tits off me. Exceptions on disc 1: “Whose Fist is This Anyway?” by Prong is mechanical industrial metal might. “Vote With A Bullet” by Corrosion of Conformity sounds like they put down the joint just long enough to jam out this little beauty. Lemmy always reckoned Motörhead was a rock n’ roll band, but even demigods can be wrong, and “Bad Religion” is blues infused metal heaven (of course the fucking pun is intended!) “Widow” by Paradise Lost is a bit gloomy, but if you see where these miserable fuckers came from , you would be too. Warrant’s “Machine Gun” scrapes in as glam metal, but it’s not very interesting. I suppose you could call HIM metal if you squint a bit, but you definitely can’t call “Buried Alive By Love” interesting. Just because Infectious Grooves has members of a metal band in it, it doesn’t automatically become a metal band. This is a funk band. Except this time. It’s funky and metallic, and annoyingly catchy, and I didn’t want to like it, but I do. Bugger.

Disc 2: Well fuck, ya don’t half know how to make a critics job hard, Sony Music. There’s not a huge lot to complain about on this disc. “Metal Health (Bang Your Head)” by Quiet Riot, “Headhunter” by Krokus (it’s still a fucking flower, no matter how you misspell it guys!), and “Say What You Will” by Fastway all offer a flashback to 1983, when metal was metal, and thank fuck things have moved on since then… “Voices in The Sky” by Motörhead and “Electric Eye” by Judas Priest both offer up second shots of bands which have already featured, although there’s no reasonable complaint about either.

“Girlschool” by Britney Fox is formulaic misogynistic crap so typical of glam metal, “Sport’n A Woody” by Dangerous Toys is silly double entendre laden childish humour so typical of glam metal, and “Evil Twin” by Love/Hate is intelligent, thoughtful social commentary, so atypical of glam metal. ”Pictured Life” by Scorpions shows why they were one of the great bands of the 70s during the 70s. “Thundersteel” by Riot shows how one of the great bands of the 70s could change their approach to metal and be a great band in the 80s. “The Battle Rages On” by Deep Purple shows one of the great bands of the 70s could still sort of rock in the 90s.

“Battle Angels” may make some people question why Sanctuary ditched thrash, when they were obviously so good at it. These are people who have not heard the even greater greatness of Nevermore.

Suicidal Tendencies… No, I can’t pull the old “these guys are a punk band” trick, because “You Can’t Bring Me Down” is metal as fuck. So is “The Final Word” by Metal Church.

Ah! Got a couple!

Exhibit 4: Gotthard is a Swiss hard rock band. And “Firedance” is a bit boring. Pink Cream 69 (how fucked up were these guys when they thought up THAT name?) is a German hard rock band. And “Keep Your Eye On The Twisted” is even more boring than “Firedance”. (Note to self: this evidence is getting a bit feeble. You sure this is really such a bad compilation?)

Disc 3: Yes! Paydirt!

Exhibit 5: On what planet is “Down” by 311 metal? Yes, it’s more infectious than measles at an anti-vaxxer meeting, but metal? No. And neither is “Bartender by (Hed) P.E., or “Someday” by zebrahead. There are also the highly objectionable Korn and Mudvayne again, and whoever put Three Days Grace on a metal compilation album needs a smack around the head with a pipe, just to remind them what metal actually is.

OK, I’ll give you Eighteen Visions. It’s not the heaviest shit here, but “Victims” could almost slip in as a metal song. However, Crossfade is a fail. It’s hard rock at best, and that’s being generous.

Well Mr (or Miss, Mrs, Ms, or whatever qualifier you may or may not like to add before your name. I’m trying to criticize your work, not make it something personal) Sony Music Compilation Compiler, you finally got warmed up for this disc and put in some proper fucking metal! “The Last Time” by Paradise Lost is a good dose of Gothicism. Opeth’s “Master’s Apprentice” isn’t. It’s 10 fucking minutes of boring bog standard death metal by a highly overrated band, but that’s just my opinion. Many other metal fans will be jizzing in their undies (or creaming their knickers – not trying to exclude anyone here) at the inclusion of this track. “Her Ghost In The Fog” by Cradle of Filth gets back to the gothic stuff again, except a bit faster and more atmospheric than Paradise Lost.

You remember what I said about Bullet For My Valentine before? Yeah, well, “Your Betrayal” is actually a METAL track! Or mostly metal anyway.

Exhibit 6: Dear oh fucking dear! Someone is a bit lacking in reading comprehension here. LOOK AT THE TITLE OF THIS FUCKING SONG! “Hard Rock Hallelujah” by Lordi might have won the Eurovision Song Contest, but it’s NOT METAL! The biggest clue? The. Name. Of. The. Song…

“The Bear Song” by Green Jelly is a guilty pleasure for many a metalhead, but most aren’t going to admit it. Not near as charming as their legendary “Three Little Pigs”, but it’s got a silly singalong melody which many of us remember from our childhoods. Steve Vai reckons “The Audience Is Listening”, but I reckon he’s just showing off.

Disc 4: OK, so I suppose by the law of averages, you were bound to get things mostly right for most of a disc eventually. Is that why these compilations are four disc sets? Three discs to get things started, and then finally get it right on the fourth? Why not just save yourselves some time and effort Sony Music, and just release the fourth disc on it’s own!

Anyway, “Trip At The Brain” by Suicidal Tendencies is a classy crossover thrasher. “Lost and Found” by Prong is a harsh industrial pounder. “Babalon A.D. (So Glad For The Madness)” by Cradle of Filth is pseudo-black metal. “Feed My Frankenstein” is another over-compiled Alice Cooper track, but I’ll let you away with this one because, well, fuck it. It’s Alice! Krokus’ “Midnite Maniac” is more flower power… er, but it’s not very powerful and quite forgettable.

Bonham’s “Guilty” is guilty of taking all it’s cues from Jason Bonham’s Dad’s band, but Led Zeppelin worship isn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, sticking a Bon Jovi-esque chorus in a song is!

The Scorpions were “Raised On Rock” a very long time ago, but these metallic senior citizens get a pass for this song, for their efforts in growing old disgracefully. “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” by Warrant is a tricky one, because while it’s not named after the novel by Harriet Beecher Stowe, it’s still quite serious, which was very un-Warrant-like. Damn you Warrant for making me take you seriously!

“Clean My Wounds” by Corrosion of Conformity basically showed every other stoner metal band in the world how to do stoner metal properly. “Cult of Personality” by Living Colour showed a band could enjoy a bit of glamour but still be smart and have a message to convey, and could make radio friendly music without compromising their principles. OK, so Infectious Grooves’ previous song wasn’t metal, but “Violent and Funky” is violent and funky. And metal. “For The Love Of God”, Steve Vai, we know you’re an exceptional guitarist, but fuck, this song is so boring! And Anathema, you miserable bastards, “Make It Right” is such a moody downer to finish the album on.

Exhibit 7: Ha! There’s two fuck-ups out of 15 songs on this disc! Your best strike-rate yet! “Bury White” by Far, and “Silver” by Hundred Reasons aren’t metal. So there!

So in summary Sony Music, I put it to you that you compiled a 61 song, 4 disc album and called it “Pure…metal”, when clearly it’s not pure metal. This is adulterated with hard rock, alternative, funk, pop rock, and whatever the fuck you call 311’s music. This is not pure. Perhaps if you had called it “Unrefined…metal (And Sundry Detritus)” or “Fuck, We Don’t Really Know What Metal Is, So This Is A Bit Of A Guess At…metal” or “Blatant Rip-off, Trying To Cash In On Our Back Catalogue…metal” the title may have been more accurate. I for one would have appreciated more honesty in the naming of this compilation. Yes, I could skip the tracks I dislike, but having paid for all of the songs here, I believe I have the right to have a bit of a moan about the ones I don’t like and the ones which don’t belong here. After all, everyone’s a critic.

Yours in sincere displeasure and high opprobrium,

Vim Fuego

Vim Fuego The Salvation Army and two bucks led me to a revelation, and a deeper understanding of the wider world around me.

No, I haven’t abandoned a lifelong lack of belief to worship any sort of supernatural being, deity, cult leader, or graven image. Instead, I finally understand something which had hitherto been a mystery to me. Why did a certain sector of the rock community always heap such praise on Van Halen?

My first experiences with Van Halen were with the stadium schlock rock of the ever-dreadful “Jump” and the misogynistic teen wankfest of “Hot For Teacher”. So far, so mediocre. A bit later, I encountered the stomping “Runnin’ With The Devil”. This was more like it. It fuckin’ hard rocking, if not quite metal, but no matter. To this day it remains my favourite Van Halen song. And then there was the cover of The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me”, which is in take-it-or-leave-it territory.

So where do the Sallies and two bucks come into it? I’m all for good works for the community, regardless of religious affiliation, and so I support the Salvation Army by donating unwanted stuff there so that someone needier than me may get some sort of use out of it, and the Sallies might make a few bucks too. I buy stuff there too, often not out of need, but just because it’s there, and hey, it’s cheap! On one expedition, I was perusing the CD racks. You’re more likely to find Daniel O’Donnell than Dani Filth in these racks, so I wasn’t expecting much. I found a pristine copy of “Van Halen” by Van Halen, and the price was two dollars, so I thought “fuck it, why not?”, and then thought “is it blasphemous to think the word ‘fuck’ in a Sallies shop?”. This was followed by the thought “you don’t believe in God, so therefore, you don’t believe in blasphemy, and you haven’t been struck down by lightning yet, so it’s probably OK.” By the time I got to the counter with my purchases, I had resolved the internalised theological dilemma, and the lady at the counter was more than happy to take my money.

And now for the revelation. Finally, a few days later, I had the opportunity to finally listen to this album.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

I’ve waited over 40 years to finally hear this album in it’s entirety, and now I get it. Now I get why guitarists rave over Eddie’s technique. Now I get why the Diamond Dave vs. Sammy Hagar debate is important. Now I get why 80s glam metal sounded the way it did – those bands were chasing the dragon, and here’s that addictive high they were after.

It probably helps that the first track is “Runnin’ With The Devil” (good thing the ladies in the Salvation Army shop didn’t see that song title!) What’s the best thing about it? Eddie Van Halen’s fluid, classy soloing? His crunching main riff? David Lee Roth’s soaring vocals? Nope. It’s Michael Anthony’s thudding, hypnotic bass line, which ties in perfectly with Alex Van Halen’s straightforward, solid drums. Michael and Alex are often forgotten in this band, but remember, no Michael and Alex, no foundation for Eddie and Dave to show off.

And then “Eruption”. This is the track which caused so much consternation among budding guitar heroes the world over. Hell, even some pros were stumped by it. One of the Schenkers (jokingly) threatened Eddie Van Halen with physical violence if he didn’t show him how he played this less than two minute interlude. It squeals, shreds, soars, trills, and leaves your jaw lying on the floor. This is absolute mastery of your instrument. And unlike so many other shredding interludes, it’s actually fun to listen to, and doesn’t just reek of fretboard masturbation. And then the cover of The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me”? Take it or leave it? I’m fuckin’ taking it this time! The new leads Eddie added to what’s a fairly basic song set it off. It makes more sense in the context of this album than on it’s own.

“Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” shows off a quality not often noted when talking about Van Halen – it’s got a strong metal riff to it. Eddie’s solos are what people remember, but the main riff, underpinned by Michael’s driving bass, makes what might ordinarily be a fairly tepid love song into a hard rock masterclass.

And so proceeds the rest of the album. “I’m The One” has a rocking boogie rhythm to it. Eddie’s guitar almost talks on “Jamie’s Crying”. “Atomic Punk” isn’t punk, but it’s got an overdriven gallop to it, like a rocking Judas Priest track. A couple of things haven’t aged well. It was a different time, but “Feel Your Love Tonight” is a bit date-rapey. Unfortunately, this lame duck track seems to be the one most emulated by the 80s hairspray and heels brigade.

The bluesy swagger of “Little Dreamer” pulls things back from the brink. Diamond Dave shines on this track, showing a soulful side to his voice. For all his narcissism and other faults, the guy could fucking sing!

“Ice Cream Man” is a second blues tinged song, with a double entendre laden acoustic intro. Just when it seems the whole song is going to be just guitar and voice, the rest of the band, and the amps kick in, and it turns into an old time rock and roller. Eddie shreds and shreds and shreds, while Dave wails and Elvises it up a bit.

“On Fire” closes the album with another driving rocker of a song, once again ending up somewhere near Judas Priest territory. There were multiple facets to Van Halen shown on this highly impressive debut. The band eventually followed their more mainstream commercial leanings, but there was enough hard and heavy material here to keep the headbangers interested. And that guitar playing… Many people have wanted to play like Eddie Van Halen, but no one else quite cuts it. Every listen reveals another fill, solo, or lead which you missed before. There are hidden depths and details to what seem superficially simple compositions.

All in all, this was two bucks well spent.

Vim Fuego 23 March 1990.

OK, so I’ve used this introduction before, for a different Metallica album, but hey, if I have a record of it, why not? 23 March 1990 was the day I bought “Kill ‘em All” and I became a Metallica completist. Yep. I had all four albums. (The two major E.P.s then in their repertoire followed soon after – “The 5.98 EP – Garage Days Re-Revisited” on 28 March 1990, and “Creeping Death/Jump In The Fire” on 18 June 1990.) In those days, that made me metal as fuck! I didn’t know anyone else with all four albums. Fuck, I only knew two other metal fans...

Anyway, “Kill ‘em All” was and is a primitive thrash metal tour de force. On the whole it hasn’t aged well. It was already sounding dated in 1990. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that it documented some of the earliest beginnings of a brand new genre of metal. Yes, Venom or Overkill or Exodus or Sodom might be older, but this is really the point where thrash became a thing, where people outside of a very small scene started to take note of it. So what’s actually happening here?

Well, it’s like the NWOBHM with a punk rocket up it’s ass. The noisy racket of “Hit The Lights” was Metallica’s first song, and is the perfect high energy song to kick off the album. The main riff is a bit messy and clumsy, as many of the riffs on this album are, but it is electrified by Lars Ulrich’s enthusiastic drumming and Kirk Hammett’s wild leads. James Hetfield shreds his throat with a near hysterical shriek.

“The Four Horsemen” has a more conventional metal riff, which borrows heavily from the likes of Diamond Head or Angel Witch, but it’s actually faster than it sounds. Hammett’s leads wail a bit more than the first track. This track was co-written by Dave Mustaine, and while Metallica’s biblical inspired lyrics are better, Mustaine’s revved up “Mechanix” version is far the superior song.

There are some absolute fucking ragers on this album, and “Motorbreath” is the first of them. This is where the full on punk energy first comes through. This is like a more metallic Motörhead with higher pitched vocals.

While this entire album must be considered a classic, “Jump In The Fire” is a bit of a clunker. The main riff is too long and a bit over-ambitious for a first album. While it’s not a bad song, it just seems plodding and a bit pedestrian in comparison to the rest of the album.

“(Anaesthesia) – Pulling Teeth” was unlike anything I had ever heard before. I didn’t know you could make noises like these with a bass guitar! This is also possibly the most mature, fully developed track on this entire embryonic album. Cliff Burton showed off his wonderful range of skills with this solo track. It’s also the perfect lead-in to the album’s best (to my ears) song...

“Whiplash”! The pounding tom tom intro hints at something massive and menacing, and it fucking delivers! This is a full-on discharge of well... Discharge! Hetfield’s riffing is insanely fast for the time. This would still have to rate as one of Metallica’s faster songs still. As an ode to headbangers, the lyrics are naïve but heartfelt. And this ode gets the hair flying and necks snapping.

“Phantom Lord” is full of youthful enthusiasm and breakneck speed, and some kind of cheesy lyrics, but hey, it was 1983. It’s one of those songs which races along flat out, gets the speed wobbles, but recovers just before disaster strikes.

“No Remorse” has a chunky main riff, and seems like a solid mid-pace stomper. And stomp it does, very well for nearly five minutes. Just when it seems the song is winding down, it kicks up a gear, with the battlecry “attaaaaack!”, and follows with some of the fastest riffing on the album, finishing with a wrist snapping frenzy.

“Seek and Destroy” is one of the stand-out tracks on the album. The main riff is possibly the best on the album, the best mix of It’s a live favourite to this day, and the simple “Searching/Seek and destroy” refrain is a major reason why. Who can resist headbanging and yelling along to this? “And to round this all off, “Metal Militia” is another rager. “Oh through the mist and the madness/We are trying to get the message to you”. We got the message loud and clear.

While not as technically accomplished as the band’s later albums, even though “Ride The Lightning” followed only months later, “Kill ‘em All” blazed the trail. Albums from Anthrax, Slayer, Celtic Frost, Kreator, Voivod, and Metal Church followed soon after, laying the foundations for thrash and extreme metal in general. Without “Kill ‘em All” to lead the way, extreme metal would not be what it is today.

Vim Fuego Short and anything but sweet, this is 2018's Christmas offering from Coffin Fuck. This is "Silent Night" as you have never heard it before.

This year marks the 200th anniversary of the composition of "Silent Night". The words had been written in 1816 by Father Joseph Mohr, which schoolmaster and organist Franz Xaver Gruber put to the now famous melody two years later. The original German version is a song of beauty and contemplative charm.

And then two centuries later, Coffin Fuck violated it's corpse.

If you've never heard these guys before, here's a quick description: imagine lo-fi home recorded death metal which rips off Christmas tunes and adds silly comic book violence death-growled lyrics, done by three guys wearing stupid Christmas sweaters. The music isn't very good, but it's fine for a bit of a giggle at Christmas.

The joke would wear thin if Coffin Fuck ever got serious and released more than just a Christmas single a year, as they have done for almost a decade, but it's only once a year, it's mercifully short, and it's a tradition which I want to see continue.

And extra kudos to the Coffin Fuckers... er... lads from Coffin Fuck for not falling back on the obvious "Silent night, violent night" rhyme!

Vim Fuego You know how thrash metal died in the early 90s, and it’s only produced rehashes of it’s glory days over and over again ever since? Yeah? Well, you don’t know shit.

In the past few years there have been a number of fresh, new, young bands revitalising the genre. Warbringer, Nervosa, Power Trip, and Vektor have done more than reanimate thrash’s mouldy corpse. Bands like these have taken the vital building blocks and constructed something new, keeping the foundations in the 80s, but the superstructure is something fresh and new. There is another name to add to that list of bands: Alien Weaponry.

Three lads of Maori descent from the Far North of New Zealand have been making a huge racket for a good few years now, and still aren’t out of their teens. For those unfamiliar with Alien Weaponry, the band is made up of brothers Lewis and Henry De Jong and their good mate Ethan Trembath, and formed in 2010. Henry was 10 and Lewis was 8. Ethan (the same age as Lewis) joined a little later, knowing Lewis from Primary school and then clown school. A former ukulele player, he got the job as bass player because he was the only one who’s arms were long enough to reach the end of a bass guitar. Yup. This is truly a 21st century band.

The martial spirit of Maori culture has been crying out for a full metal release for decades. Every Man For Himself came close with their 2010 EP “Te Pae Mahutonga”, but it was more a hardcore release steeped in self-help and wellbeing philosophy from a Maori spiritual perspective, and the lyrics were in English. “Tu” on the other hand is a bilingual tour de force.

So what’s the meaning behind “Tu”? Well, that’s open to interpretation. Maori is an expressive rather than strictly descriptive language, and meaning is often dependent on context. The album title is an example. The word tu can mean to stand, to stop, to be established, to be wounded, to remain, sort, or to take place. Which meaning is appropriate here? It’s up to the listener to decide. [Note: any translations from here on are my own interpretations and might be light years distant from what the band meant. I’m not a native Maori speaker, so any mistakes and limitations with the language are all mine. I also don’t have macrons on my keyboard, for the written language.]

Introductory first track “Whaikorero” (formal speech) opens with the eerie moan of the purerehua (bull roarer) and the otherworldly voice of the koauau (flute) accompanying the verse of the whaikorero. It is a short story about a nineteenth century encounter between the band’s ancestors and invading/colonising British forces. It was recorded in the Waipu caves, near the boys’ home, further enhancing the atmosphere. It is one of several tracks recorded by Tom Larkin, New Zealand metal royalty, better known for his role as drummer for Shihad.

And then into “Ru Ana Te Whenua” (Shaking my homeland). It starts with a chanted challenge, and then rips into an introductory riff, pounding drums, and suddenly it’s like Pantera reborn and singing in a different language. The guitars are fucking massive! The vocal melody and chanted breakdown are familiar to anyone who has experienced the Maori culture, with the call and response style chants, only it’s never been done before with chunky metal riffs and double kick bass drums.

“Holding My Breath” is written in English. It shows the maturity of songwriting of these young men. It could be considered a teen angst song, but that would be selling it well short. These lyrics apply to anyone suffering anxiety or depression at any age. This trio has already won song writing awards, competing against much older and more mature songwriters.

“Raupatu” (Conquest) goes fully political. To simplify a very complicated story, the Treaty of Waitangi is New Zealand’s founding constitutional document, a treaty signed between the British crown and Maori in 1840. There were problems right from the outset, as the treaty dealt with Maori as a united entity, when really it was a fractured, tribal society. Some tribes signed on behalf of others without their knowledge, giving away rights which weren’t theirs to give. What’s worse, there were problems in translation. The Maori word “rangatiratanga” and the English word “sovereignty” mean quite different things, but were used to mean the same thing in the treaty. The British settlers merrily confiscated huge tracts of prime land all over the country, while Maori thought of it as a loan, or thought they retained ownership. This led to armed conflict, and a number of wars between the Crown and Maori, including the massacre of unarmed civilians at Parihaka in the Taranaki region. The wars led to more confiscations by the crown, a shameless land-grab disguised as punishment. Much of the land confiscated came from tribes not even involved in the fighting. Right… Get all this straight in your head, and a lot of the songs here start to make more sense.

“Kai Tangata” (Human Food) sounds more disturbing than it really is. It’s not a Cannibal Corpse-style slasher cannibal story. It describes a pre-European war party, as they prepare for battle. Their goal is to take the enemy’s heads or liberty. Maori warriors defeated in battle expected their foes to eat their bodies, to incorporate their spirit, or to become passive slaves, who could also be killed and eaten at any time. It was a brutal, uncompromising custom, while the song veers between the brutal and the melodic.

And really, brutal but melodic is the prevailing theme for this entire album. “Rage – It Takes Over Again” could be about teen angst, online bullying, or just good old-fashioned rage-fuelled violence. “The Things That You Know” looks on the surface also like it could be another angst anthem, but a slightly deeper examination points at how some people have problems leaving behind preconceptions.

The whispers of “Whispers” are governmental promises made and broken. There is a sample of former conservative politician and reserve bank governor Don Brash (think Donald Trump minus the rampant ego and dead cat hairpiece), parroting anachronistic, patronisingly racist attitudes to Maori and their culture. Those attitudes almost brought Brash to political power in 2005. Almost… The lyrics pull no punches, in both English and Maori, and point out how the government of New Zealand does not look out for Maori interests, despite the Treaty of Waitangi.

The lyrical and musical maturity on show throughout this album belies the tender age of these three young men. For a debut album, “Tu” is highly impressive. It doesn’t go off the rails by the band trying too hard to impress. While there are a couple of missteps, these are minor issues. Thrash metal is far from dead, and has a bright future. The future has arrived already.

Vim Fuego Back in 1989, Terrorizer showed the metal world that grindcore didn’t have to be mired in shoddy D.I.Y. hardcore production and sounds, and could have a metallic sharpness to it. The band has rightly been praised and idolized for their influence on grind and death metal. Lyrically, they straddled the line between the political early grindcore, like Napalm Death and Sore throat, and the gore and horror of early death metal, like Autopsy and Necrophagia. Terrorizer was also famed for the high levels of musicianship demonstrated too, with the Morbid Angel pairing of Pete Sandoval and David Vincent showed that simply abusing the hell out of the kick and snare drums, and distorted blown-out bass weren’t the only way to play grindcore. Jesse Pintado’s breakneck riffage saw him fit in perfectly to Napalm Death.

For many years, it seemed “World Downfall” would be a one-off, treasured by fans of extreme metal the world over. Until 2006 it was. And then something happened to change history. Terrorizer dared “reform” and record a second album! “Darker Days Ahead” was poorly received, and was somewhat overshadowed by Pintado dying only days after it’s release. Another album “Hordes of Zombies” was released in 2012, and a fourth album, “Caustic Attack”, arrived in 2018. The three 21st century albums have been criticised for ruining the legacy of the band, and are supposedly pale imitations of the ’89 original.

The observant reader out there might have noticed the word “reform” was in “quotation marks”. It was like that for a “reason”. The criticism levelled at the “reformed” Terrorizer, and the three subsequent “albums” really is moronic. It is proof that those voicing these criticisms are elitist fools of the highest level, and have no idea of the true legacy of Terrorizer. A bold claim? Perhaps. But then, consider this:

TERRORIZER BROKE UP IN 1988.

Yep. There was no such band as Terrorizer in 1989 when “World Downfall” was released. What’s more, some of the songs on “World Downfall” weren’t even Terrorizer songs. Explanation time.

After Terrorizer broke up, Sandoval joined Morbid Angel, and vocalist Oscar Garcia continued to work with his other band Nausea. Bass player Alfred Estrada ended up in jail. Enter one Shane Embury. Napalm Death’s four string grind maestro Embury loved Terrorizer’s demos and the split they had shared with the aforementioned Nausea. He pestered Earache Record’s main man Dig Pearson into funding a posthumous Terrorizer album. And the rest is history? Well, not quite. There was the matter of recording the album.

Sandoval was ensconced in Morrisound Studios in Florida, busy recording Morbid Angel’s incendiary debut “Altars of Madness”. Garcia and Pintado arrived at the studios to put the album together. Busting Estrada out of jail was a bit beyond the resources of the band, so Sandoval’s band mate Vincent was pulled in to cover bass and some vocal duties. Right so time to rip into it? Er, not quite… Garcia had also played guitar in the original Terrorizer, but realised he couldn’t remember how to play most of the songs. No matter, Pintado had that covered. And away we go… almost. There weren’t actually enough Terrorizer songs to fill an album. What to do? Well, why not borrow some Nausea songs. So they did. Eight hours in the studio, with Vincent and Scott Burns twiddling the knobs in the studio, and “World Downfall” and Terrorizer were done.

So, a band which no longer existed recorded a single album of songs that weren’t even all theirs in super quick time, and what happened? Well, basically everyone fucked off to their respective new gigs, “World Downfall” hit the shelves, and extreme metal fans went mad for it.

So, back to the present day. 29 years after the band’s debut, a fourth Terrorizer album has arrived. There will be the usual naysayers and elitists going on about how it won’t be as good as the original, and that present day Terrorizer isn’t Terrorizer, that it’s a cash-in, a rip-off, a fake, or whatever else. Let them fester in their smug elitist stink. Anyone who takes the time to actually listen to “Caustic Attack” will be rewarded with what Terrorizer has always produced – sharp, intelligent metallic grindcore which is both thought provoking and fun at the same time.

The biggest difference between “Caustic Attack” and “World Downfall” is the improvement in production and sound quality. While “World Downfall” set new standards for grindcore clarity, “Caustic Attack” is sharper still.

Sandoval’s performance in particular is stunning. He has more room to explore looser high speed rhythms than he did in Morbid Angel. Three decades have not dulled the man’s skills in the slightest. From the first moments of lead-off track “Turbulence” he’s straight into his trademark machinegun double kick drums and rattling the snare like a man possessed. What is also instantly obvious is that the trademark Terrorizer riffs are there in bucketloads, and that the new line-up of Sandoval, bassist/vocalist Sam Molina and guitarist Lee Harrison are a match of any previous line-up of the band.

In the past, Terrorizer has mainly produced on short songs, with only a few making it past the three minute mark. Hell, the legendary “Dead Shall Rise” only just clocked past that mark at 3:05. This time out, there are a few longer songs. Does it mean the band has slowed down at all? Nah, you definitely haven’t been paying attention. Five songs come in over four minutes long. This is not a bad thing at all. It just means there’s more Terrorizer to savour. “Crisis” is the first of the longer tracks, but it doesn’t seem like it.

That’s not to say that the hardcore blasts of the past have disappeared either. The title track and “Poison Gas Tsunami” are sharp and, well, caustic and leave the listener salivating for more.

There’s nothing groundbreaking or new on offer here. That is not why you listen to Terrorizer, because the band broke that ground already, in 1989. This is simply the fourth installment from a highly influential band which never managed to record an album in it’s original incarnation. Anyone unable to get past that is a fool to themselves. Extreme metal, grindcore, deathgrind, or whatever other label you want to slap on this band, simply doesn’t get much better than this.

Vim Fuego Grindcore has a reputation for covering some really sick shit sometimes. Shit is the preferred thematic matter for many bands, but there’s other subjects, like sexual perversion, necro-sadism, extreme violence, and all manner of gore, viscera, bodily functions and excretions, and general dark fucked-upped-ness which pervade the various grind subgenres. However, look back at grindcore’s roots, at bands like Napalm Death, Sore Throat, or Electro-Hippies, and what was a big chunk of the subject matter? It was politics.

Back in the day, it was raging against Thatcher and Reagan. Today, chaotic grind duo Anal Trump has realised that the sickest shit going now is the one man idiot show of the current American president.*

“The First 100 Songs” is unashamedly political. It was released on the day of the 2018 mid-term elections. It is a compilation of Anal Trump’s previous EPs, with 30 new songs added. All 100 are “songs” in the same way that namesake Anal Cunt’s “5643 Song EP” really has 5643 songs. These are short, chaotic, incoherent blasts of noise lasting anywhere from fractions of a second to a few seconds. If you sit and watch carefully, your media player might show you when one song ends and another begins, but you’re not going to hear it yourself. It’s all done in about 11 minutes. The song and EP titles are politically biting and highly offensive, but the most offensive thing about them is a lot of them came directly from Donald Trump’s own mouth. Just to remind you of how repulsive a human being Trump actually is, this is interspersed with samples of The Donald, in all his grammatically incorrect, politically illiterate, and morally reprehensible glory.

The duo of Travis Trump and Rob Trump are not doing this for money. Both have day jobs in real bands. Any profits from previous recordings have gone to various socially worthy charities.# “The First 100 Songs” is pure novelty and sick parody. Shit, even the cover has a picture of Trump’s face attached to a naked fat masturbating body. It can’t be taken seriously, but it’s making a serious statement. This is shit which needs saying, sadly, because it needs saying.

*Please note these are my own opinions of the person elected to lead the American people, and in no way reflect the attitudes, opinions, or editorial stance, of Metal Music Archives – V.F.

#As at time of writing it’s unclear if any profits are going to a charity this time, but personally I’d suspect so – V.F.

Vim Fuego In which the Big Four became The Fucking Enormous One and The Big Three.

In hindsight, 1991 was a watershed year in rock and metal, but it was hard to see at the time, as such events often are. The previously dominant forces in those genres changed in a momentous few months, the results of which are still felt today. The style-over-substance excesses of 80s glam metal which had so dominated MTV and rock radio were dramatically replaced by an anti-style. At the same time, the underground erupted overground, and the alternative became the mainstream.

And really, it was the period of August and September 1991 where three releases ushered in this change. World politics and society had recently been through a huge shift with the almost overnight downfall of communism in 1989. Music doesn’t exactly dictate how millions of people are forced to live, or whether people can be oppressed, persecuted, imprisoned, or murdered for their beliefs or race, but there was a similar scale of shift in the musical microcosm. Glam metal, which had so dominated the late 1980s had burned out and was beginning to eat it’s young. Thrash metal, so long underground, was needing new outlets because the building popularity was hardly being contained underground. And in Seattle, the rising slacker generation was starting to stir.

These three releases were a hit, a miss, and a where-the-fuck-did-that-come-from broadside. The hit was Metallica’s self-titled fifth album, released on August 12. The miss was Guns N’ Roses “Use Your Illusions” albums, the twin album follow-up to their phenomenally successful debut, released on September 17. The broadside was Nirvana’s second album “Nevermind”, which exceeded original sales targets by a scale of 100, released on September 24.

In the time it took to write these four paragraphs, including fact checking, rewording, interruptions for a phone call from my mother in law, and from Jehovah’s Witnesses who left fearing for my soul after me saying we were atheists, the entire 62 minute album has played through.

And I don’t want to listen to it again.

It is my practice to listen to whatever I am reviewing while I write, no matter how many times it plays through. If it is a short EP, this can mean several repeats. But you know what? This is the most damning indictment on this album. I simply cannot face listening to it again. So this is now a much shorter and changed review from what I intended.

So… If you’re even a casual metal fan, you already know what this sounds like. It’s heavy and loud, which is good. However, it plods along, barely getting past a mid-tempo stomp. Metallica used to play really fast before this album, so slower is bad. This left a lot of Metallica’s fans really confused. “Heavy = good, slow = bad, what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

While these bewildered millions (and Metallica was selling millions, even before this album) tried to decide whether to love it or hate it, tens of millions more who would never have even given Metallica a second thought, decided they loved it. There’s shit to say about radio friendly singles, an overplayed but visually stunning video for “Enter Sandman”, Bob Rock being a cunt, Jason’s bass finally appearing, subtlety, ballads, wolves, nightmares, minimalist artwork, but it’s all been said before.

It doesn’t matter that pre-black album fans like me think this is dull, and would have preferred “…And Justice For All Part II”. It still pointed where metal was going. Just look at the rest of the Big 4. Megadeth followed suit, by slowing down and getting heavier. Anthrax slowed a little, and incorporated more melody into their music. Slayer took their sweet time before releasing anything else, but probably changed the least of the four, and have kept their reputation most intact because of it. A lot of next tier bands changed too. Exodus’ “Force of Habit” was a bit directionless. Kreator incorporated industrial elements to their music. Overkill released arguably their weakest album in “I Hear Black”, while other bands like Death Angel, Dark Angel, Forbidden, Sacred Reich, and Testament fell on hard times or split up.

On the positive side, Sepultura discovered their groove with “Chaos AD”, and Pantera and Machine Head emerged as genuine contenders for a scene which was no longer subterranean.

And the GnR/Nirvana points I was labouring earlier? Guns N’ Roses got too big for their own good. No one had the guts to tell them that releasing two albums padded with covers and sub-par shit was a bad idea, when they should have released one fucking good one. As a result, their career took a bit of a nose dive, and the rest of the glam scene collapsed around them. Don’t feel sorry for them though. The Gunners still made millions (both albums have sold over 18 million copies). It was the other dumb bastards who found their poodle perms and gender bending androgyny no longer counted for anything.

Nirvana was a garage band which had managed to wangle a decent record deal and recording budget, and with more attitude and good intention than actual talent or skill, recorded an album which unexpectedly grabbed the music buying public’s attention. It was simple music which appealed to the simple millions (about 30 simple millions, according to some estimates). Grunge replaced glam, and rock clubs started to stink of body odour instead of hairspray.

Since I’ve mentioned the supposed sales figures for the other two, “Metallica” by Metallica has reportedly sold 31 million copies. I have owned two of those. The first was a cassette bought the day it was released. I didn’t like it. I listened to it over and over, analysed it, looked at different interpretations and alternate meanings of the lyrics, played it quiet and loud, fiddled with the graphic equalizer, tried it on a number of different pieces of audio equipment. I still didn’t like it. So I bought it on CD a number of years later.

It was still dull. Fuck, I’m dumb…

Vim Fuego It can be a bit risky covering some of your influences, particularly when they are also your contemporaries. After all, some of these bands are still going, and it would be inevitable for the Dying Fetus crew to cross paths with them. What happens if you’ve covered one of your idol’s songs and fucked it up?

Fortunately, there’s no worries here. Brutal death metal doesn’t get much more brutal than Dying Fetus, and this is a nice indicator as to where some of that violence came from.

First track “Fade Into Obscurity” was originally recorded by Dehumanized. Most musicians have a local scene they grew up with and were a part of, and Dehumanized inhabited the same part of the world as Dying Fetus. It’s tight, deathly as fuck, and if you don’t know the original (I don’t) it could easily be a Dying Fetus song.

“Unchallenged Hate” might seem an unusual choice of song. The anti-racism song from Napalm Death’s legendary “From Enslavement To Obliteration” album is more grind oriented than the usual Dying Fetus fare. However, grindcore and brutal death metal are probably the two closest related major genres in extreme metal, and have often cannibalised each other. This version has more of a groove than the original, although the vocals retain a bit of Lee Dorrian’s screech and growl.

“Gorehog” is a cover from Broken Hope’s 1991 debut album “Swamped In Gore”, but is given a 21st century make-over here. It’s still just as guttural and gloriously gory, but the sound is fuller and Fetus-ized.

“Rohypnol” is a 43 second rape revenge original, not to be taken too seriously, although it has a seriously good blast beat at the end of the song.

Bolt Thrower is a band not often covered, or at least, not often enough. “Unleashed Upon Mankind” is a song with a relentless mid-pace riff, like a rumbling tank, and is punctuated with faster passages. Bolt Thrower didn’t use traditional blast beats, and it would have been tempting to add a few here, but no, this is a faithful cover. John Gallagher’s vocals use a different tone to Karl Willett’s electronically lowered voice, but it seems to suit the song.

“Twisted Truth”, originally by Pestilence, is another less obvious choice. Something from Pestilence’s more brutal Martin Van Drunen era would have seemed more likely, but this came from the more melodic Patrick Mameli-fronted “Testimony Of The Ancients” album. And ya know, Dying Fetus might be famous for brutality, but there’s nothing wrong with their ability to produce a melody either.

Final track “Born In A Casket” in a Cannibal Corpse classic, so of course, it sounds like a chorus of vomiting zombies wreaking havoc in a malfunctioning iron foundry, like it should.

Like most covers collections, there’s nothing stunningly surprising, although the injection of a bit of groove and melody here and there can raise an eyebrow. This was an appetizer while the band prepared a new album. It serves that purpose perfectly, leaving you looking forward to your next feed of ‘Fetus.

Vim Fuego See that splattery carcass on the front cover? How do you feel looking at it? If you feel revulsion or disgust, look no further. You won’t like this at all. If you’re curious or morbidly drawn to it, this could be of interest. If you’re sexually aroused, then you have some serious problems, and this is a great soundtrack for a date.

Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis is a couple of noisy Mexicans who love mixing gruesome gore with sadistic sex. While many would say the only remarkable thing about the band is their lengthy name, goregrind/pornogrind fans have a bit of a soft spot for these cheerful chaps. Ginecologic Cryptococcidioidomicosis (better known as Isaac to his Mum) on drums, vocals, and intro samples, and Infection Cutane and Sensational Genital (called Hugo when he’s down the pub) on guitars, bass, and vocals play noisy, downtuned, sludgy, amorphous grindcore. The aim of this music seems to be to play seemingly random rhythms as fast as possible, while simultaneously filling as many bass frequencies as possible with gargling, throbbing, beautiful noise. Thousands of bands the world over do it. Some do it better, a lot do it worse. The important thing is at least they are doing it.

So, once you get past the gaping chest cavity on the front cover, the CD inside is covered with intestines. Take it out and you reveal a collage of sexual horrors on the back inlay, which include gaping orifices, multiple organs, bodily fluids, and various glorious, sickening perversions. Packaging and presentation is a big thing with this style of music. If you’re going for disgusting, you need gross in as many elements as possible.

Oh yeah, there’s some music here too.

First off, there’s an intro called “Toward The Apocalipsex”, to lull the unwary into a false sense of security. It’s a little unexpected, combining despairing cries with acoustic. This is well executed for a band playing in a genre often known for endless churning distorted chords, rather than finger picking.

It leads into second track “Uruporfironogenodescarboxilandome Y Pustulandome Con Tu Anorgasmia Exaclorobencenosisticarial Sexo Traumatizante” (I love copy and paste with these song titles!), which starts with a movie soundtrack sample combining shagging and slaughter before the music bursts forth in all it’s filthy glory. Often bands of this ilk can’t write a riff to save themselves, and cover their deficiencies with incessant grinding, persistent blast beats, and as much gutturality (is that a word? Fuck it, it is now!) as possible.

Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis set themselves apart by crafting a lot of memorable riffs, although the riffs don’t exactly shine through the musical murk, and the song construction seems somewhat haphazard. The top end is also not neglected, with plenty of squeally guitar silliness that isn’t exactly leads or solos, but the icing on the top.

The lyrics are rendered indecipherable through a combination of lengthy medical terminology, distorted, garbled vocals, and Spanish. Hey, I’m not being discriminatory here. I’m sadly monolingual, but I’m betting even a dedicated Mexican grind lover couldn’t tell you what was being growled here.

Third track “Grotesque Mucopurulence (Disgorge's Sensation)” throws in something a little different. The vocals are indecipherable English this time.

By now it should be obvious what the remaining tracks are going to sound like. Rather than list all ten with their medically improbable names, describe the disturbing samples, and attempt to explain what differentiates one song from the next, it is easier to say the band has a formula, but this is not formulaic. These guys know what sort of noise they like to make, and are pretty fucking good at it.

This music is underground for a reason. If you’re feeling brave or adventurous, exhume and enjoy. If you’re struggling to keep your lunch down, no one will think less of you for it. And if you’ve been whacking off whilst listening to this, I really don’t want to know what sort of porn you have on your hard drive.

Vim Fuego Motörhead’s “1916” came after four years of label problems, and other bullshit with the business side of music. That wasn’t what Lemmy was about. The man just wanted to play his own mutant version of rock and roll. The band’s previous album, simply called “Rock ‘n’ Roll” was not as well received as its predecessors, so expectations for “1916” were not high.

Fuck expectations. This is Motörhead. The band had occasionally dabbled outside the blues/rock/punk/metal mix. For example, “Orgasmatron” could be considered proto-doom-death metal, but most of their albums stuck fairly closely to the old formula. First track “The Ones To Sing The Blues” threw out the formula and shattered all preconceptions. Unlike a number of other Motörhead tracks, it’s not particularly bluesy, but thunders along, powered by Philthy’s legendary double kick drums. On “I'm So Bad (Baby I Don't Care)”, the blues does raise its leery head, along with Lemmy’s clever, incisive lyrics. What seems like a song full of tall story bragging actually reveals his inspirations. “Going to Brazil” is a blues boogie road song which only Lemmy could write. It has a bit of a story behind it. The band recorded four songs with producer Ed Stasium. When Lemmy listened to a mix of “Going to Brazil”, he asked Stasium to turn up four tracks, and on doing so heard claves and tambourines added without the band's knowledge. Stasium was fired and Pete Solley hired as producer. And thank fuck for that!

And next, a big step sideways. Judas Priest had faced a civil suit in 1990, around the time Lemmy was writing songs for this album, and one of the accusations levelled at the band was that they had hidden subliminal messages in their cover of Spooky Tooth’s “Better By You, Better Than Me”. Always one who stuck up against injustice when he saw it, Lemmy deliberately filled “Nightmare/The Dreamtime” with backmasked vocals and music, which were far from subliminal, giving the song a truly eerie vibe. And what did he actually say? Even that’s open to interpretation, perhaps proving once and for all that backmasking is rather an inefficient way of conveying a message.

“Love Me Forever” is a power ballad from an era when power ballad were ubiquitous, but it’s far from typical. For a start, it’s not weepy or self-loathing, instead showing both sides of love and relationships, a black/white, all/nothing contrast.

“Angel City” is a filler when you don’t write fillers. Like the “Going To Brazil” road trip, it’s a fun descriptive song of life in L.A. at the tail end of the glam era. It’s followed by another good time rocker in the form of “Make My Day”.

Lemmy was asked why he wrote the song “R.A.M.O.N.E.S.” The answer? “’Cos I like The Ramones”. Best answer ever to a stupid question. The Ramones liked the minute and a half long song so much they covered it themselves. Basically, it’s The Ramones put through a Motörhead filter.

“Shut You Down” is an “I’m outta here” break up track, in a fashion only Motörhead could pull off, like a metal “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”.

These ten tracks would have made a very good Motörhead album, showing some new musical facets, and more energy and drive than the previous album. But this is Motörhead. Expect the unexpected.

“1916” is unlike any song ever recorded by this or any other metal band. First, it’s not metal. Second, it is such a visceral, heart rending tale, it is more an accompanied epic poem than a song. Musically, it is part hymn, part sombre march, with simple orchestration, cello, a military snare, and Lemmy’s voice quavering with more sensitivity than you might think possible. While it is a song about World War One, it is so thought provoking and emotionally wrought it could come from any war, where young men think they are heading off for a great adventure, only to be dehumanized, ground up, and spat out by an unfeeling, unstoppable war machine. Like no other song, “1916” vocalises the true stupidity, futility, terror, and waste of human life of war.

It seems Lemmy understood how deeply emotionally and psychologically damaging war could be to those caught in the fighting. My own Grandfather fought in the Pacific Islands during World War Two. In the 26 years I knew him, he spoke of the war to me only once, and then only to relate a funny tale of having to run flat out from tent to surf when going swimming, in order to avoid mosquitoes. In his last few lucid hours, he suffered nightmares and flashbacks to those days six decades before. Even though this song is of a different war, now a century past, it still makes me think of my Grandfather and the terrible things he may have seen and experienced, which are beyond my imagination and recognition. It took a special kind of bravery to have faced a mortal enemy, who was probably feeling very similar emotions and terrors, and then to return to civilization and lead a productive life, all the while keeping those horrors locked away. It may not have been the intention of this song to cause this reaction, but it does.

And so the song “1916” elevates the album “1916” from the realms of very good into great. It also secured Motörhead’s future, both financially and musically. The band finally had a decent record deal, and had explored some new musical avenues which opened new frontiers for the band to explore for the remainder of its existence. Albums like “Ace Of Spades” and “No Sleep ‘til Hammersmith” established Motörhead’s legendary status in rock and metal. “1916” cemented it.

Vim Fuego “Incesticide” is a rare thing. For a rapidly thrown together record label stop-gap, it is actually a pretty good compilation.

“Incesticide” was made up of demos, b-sides, unreleased tracks, and other extraneous material recorded between 1988 and 1991. Released a year after the revolutionary “Nevermind”, it was intended to be a high quality version of material which was already circulating in bootleg form. Geffen Records decided not to promote it heavily, in case fans suffered Nirvana burn-out. Yeah, right Geffen, so why release the fucking thing in the first place then? Despite this, it still went platinum in the US, UK, and Canada.

So why did “Incesticide” do so well? Simply put, the album includes some of the best material Nirvana ever recorded. It shows off the breadth of Nirvana’s influences and the diversity of the band’s sound. Was Kurt Cobain a misunderstood genius or an overrated junkie slacker? Who the fuck knows. He made some interesting, noisy music, then blew his brains out, and left it up to the rest of us to decide his place in history.

First song “Dive” came from a recording session for Sub Pop which was intended to be for the follow-up album to “Bleach”, and was released as the b-side to “Sliver”. Of course, we know the follow-up didn’t come out on Sub Pop, and this song would not have fit on “Nevermind” anyway, with a feel closer to “Bleach”. The song has a fatter, warmer sound than the “Nevermind” album. Like all things Cobain, the lyrics are either cryptic or nonsensical, depending on your own interpretation.

Just to get things ass backwards, “Sliver” appears after “Dive”, even though “Dive” was the b-side to this single. Anyway, “Sliver” has the most memorable hooks Nirvana ever recorded, both in the bouncy bass line and the “Grandma take me home” lyric which constituted the song’s chorus. The lyrics are trivial, but engaging, seemingly taken from a child’s point of view, remembering an evening with grandparents.

“Stain” has a rougher edge than the previous two songs. It was originally released on the “Blew” EP. It’s a shouty punk song, with a great discordant noise solo, and is basically musical simplicity itself, both catchy and compelling.

“Been A Son” is a later song, recorded for the Mark Goodier radio show for the BBC in November 1991, with "(New Wave) Polly" and "Aneurysm" coming from the same session. It has another of those trademark vocal hooks, with Cobain slurring his vocals a little.

"Turnaround", "Molly's Lips", and "Son of a Gun", were recorded in 1990 for the John Peel Show for the BBC. “Turnaround” is a Devo cover, but is a surprisingly forgettable and unlikeable song. The next two tracks are Vaselines covers, and have a seemingly happy, bouncy feel to them, despite the reasonably grim subject matter of addiction on “Molly’s Lips”.

“(New Wave) Polly” shows the band made an excellent decision by sticking with the acoustic version of the song for “Nevermind”. While not a bad song, the shock value, and raw emotion present on the acoustic version of the song are not near as striking on this version.

"Beeswax", "Downer", "Mexican Seafood", "Hairspray Queen", and "Aero Zeppelin" all came from Nirvana’s first studio demo, recorded in January 1988. These show a young but focused band, playing like their whole lives depended on it, with a feel of determination edged by desperation. It demonstrated an early incarnation of the grunge formula of mixing garage punk with classic rock and pop sensibilities, with the added ingredient of emerging slacker cynicism. “Hairspray Queen” in particular fully demonstrated the musical weirdness which could emerge from such a mix, with a simple, yet effective three note bassline from Krist Novoselic, while Cobain’s vocals vary between Bobcat Goldthwaite rant, a subterranean grumble, and a crystal clear coherence. “Aero Zeppelin” is a straighter style rock song, and is really the first time on the album things seem to drag. While quite a powerful track, it seems too safe and mainstream compared to the rest of these demo tracks.

“Big Long Now” was recorded during the “Bleach” sessions. It would not have been too far out of place on that album, but was probably too slow paced. It is a dragging dirge, and feels like trying to emerge from a deep, deep sleep, but the grip of Morpheus is not ready to let go.

Final track “Aneurysm” combines the band’s noisier aspects with a driving punk beat. Kurt Cobain’s vocals are at their raggedy, melodic best, and the song has hooks big enough to catch mako sharks.

For such a diverse collection of recordings, “Incesticide” is surprisingly coherent. At the same time, it shows the breadth of vision of a group of young musicians, led by a reluctant mouthpiece, who didn’t care for the rules of how music should be created or sound, and wrote their own rules. Then they broke them repeatedly, and the outside world came to embrace their vision. Whether the outside world ever understood that vision then or now doesn’t matter. The resulting music speaks for itself.

Vim Fuego A black metal album with a fucking big tank on the front? Finally, someone gets it!

Actually, there’s two versions of this album, but both have a fucking big tank on them. One’s a Swedish Stridsvagn 104 main battle tank and the other is a German Panzerkampfwagen VI Tiger heavy tank used in the Battle of Kursk in July 1943. But let’s not get hung up on tanks. This is still about the music.

Marduk is one of those black metal bands, like Immortal and Impaled Nazarene, which metal fans can get into without having to swallow the whole black metal schtick. Yes, it’s fast and anti-Christian, but there’s no deeper pretence about the music being anything but metal. Forget atmosphere, melody, and non-metal instruments, just write some evil fucking tunes, and play ‘em fast as fuck until yer balls are hanging out! That is what black metal should be.

So, what we have here is a 30 minute album full of war themed songs. Some are describing real events, which others are repurposing the theme for a blitzkrieg on Christianity. The first song and title track best illustrates this with the line “Panzer division Marduk continues its triumphant crusade/Against Christianity and your worthless humanity”. Glad we cleared that up...

Run through the rest of the songs and you get “Baptism By Fire” which uses bombing raid imagery as an attack by Satan on Christianity. “Christraping Black Metal” taunts Christ on the cross. “Scorched Earth” describes tanks racing back and forth through the Losheim Gap, the main invasion route into France and Belgium for the Germans during both World Wars, and the location of a famous tank battle during the Battle of the Bulge in 1944. “Beast of Prey” and “Blooddawn” further explore the war/anti-Christianity theme.

"502" refers to the 502nd Heavy Tank Battalion, which was involved in the Siege of Leningrad. While the rolling Panzers must have been an awe inspiring (or dread inspiring, point of view is important here) sight, history has recorded what happened to this force. Despite destroying 2000 enemy tanks (according to the song - official figures put the number at 1400, plus 2000 guns destroyed) during the infamous 900 day siege, Russian forces eventually prevailed, and the Germans were sent into full retreat. The 502nd was eventually redesignated the 511th in early 1945, and continued to fight up until April 27, and finally surrendered on May 9.

The final track has the gloriously offensive title “Fistfucking God's Planet”. And as you can probably guess by now, it’s anti-Christian/pro-Satan. There’s nothing new about it, the music is still breakneck speed fast, but it’s still fun to listen to.

And that is the lasting impression of this album. It’s got bits about tanks and wars. It’s got bits about Satanism and how Christianity is bad. It’s heavy. It’s loud. It’s metal. Full fucking stop.

Vim Fuego There was a time in the early 90s when Dio was a figure of ridicule and mirth. Jokes were made about his Elf-like height, his swords and sorcerers lyrics, and his over the top stage persona. Those doing the laughing had obviously never met the man.

Like no other figure in the history of metal, perhaps up until the death of Lemmy, Dio’s death was mourned by metal fans the world over. Ronnie James Dio earned respect like no one else in metal. Not expected or demanded, but earned. Why? Because he always had time for fans. He was famous for staying behind hours after shows had finished to meet and greet fans, sign autographs, talk to people about music, and just be a thoroughly decent human being.

No musician had a bad word to say about the man. He always helped out up and coming new bands. He never forgot where he came from. The proof? Every artist on this album, except Killswitch Engage, has a picture with the man himself, and he looks just as happy as the fans cum musicians he is with. And most of all, up until his death, he always, always produced incredible music. Look at the list of bands he sang with – Elf, Rainbow, Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell, and in his own right as Dio. The proof? Just listen to this tribute.

First up is Anthrax with “Neon Knights”: from Dio’s stint in Black Sabbath. It’s a fairly faithful version, benefitting from modern production values, and beefed up a little by Anthrax, but surprisingly, Joey Belladonna’s vocals don’t quite cut it. He seems to be straining and a little out of breath. Belladonna has one of the best vocals ranges in all of thrash, so this shows how good Ronnie actually was in his heyday.

“The Last In Line” by Tenacious D has their trademark silliness mixed with their respect for metal. As usual, Jack Black’s vocals are stupidly over the top, while Kyle Gass’s recorder solo actually made me laugh out loud the first time I heard it. That they won the Grammy for best metal performance in 2015 with this cover shows how out of touch and clueless the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences actually is, but that’s a bit off topic here.

Adrenaline Mob’s take on “The Mob Rules” is another very faithful cover. There’s nothing new added, but then you don’t want anyone fucking with perfection anyway.

Corey Taylor and his backing band featuring Roy Mayorga (Stone Sour, Soulfly), Satchel (Steel Panther), and Christian Martucci (Stone Sour) did what always should have been done with “Rainbow In The Dark” and made the fucking thing heavier. Ronnie himself hated the song, and was ready to destroy the original master tape of the song with a razor. The rest of Dio stopped him, the song became a huge hit, and the rest is history. As for the performance here, who knew Corey Taylor could fucking sing? I didn’t, but I generally avoid his music like I avoid genital warts. Oh well, you’re never too old to learn something new.

Halestorm’s “Straight Through The Heart” is a great rendition, and Lzzy Hale’s vocals are more than ballsy enough to do the song justice.

Now, who would have ever dreamed of Motörhead with Biff Byford on vocals? It’s a match made in metal heaven, with a modern... er, old school take on the Rainbow classic. Lemmy still growls along backing up Biff, but the song is the real star of the show here.

The Scorpions are the only band in metal which could even come near to Dio’s longevity, so it’s nice to hear their rendition of “The Temple Of The King”. It’s a change down in pace. Klaus Meine does a great job vocally, and the Schenker/Jabs guitar duo has the skill and subtlety to pull off Ritchie Blackmore’s solos without losing the feel of the song.

Doro makes “Egypt (The Chains Are On)” her own, a song she claims as one of her absolute favourites. Because she has such a good feel for the song, it sounds like it was written for her, and is one of the best performances on the album.

Confession time. As much as I dislike Killswitch Engage, and metalcore in general, I have to give them credit for their version of Holy Diver. It’s pretty good… Ah, fuck it. This is a confession. It’s fucking great! Howard Jones’s theatrical vocals are a great fit for the song, and the two blokes on guitar heavy things up, and manage to hit the solos pretty near on perfect. Killswitch Engage, you are both gentlemen and bastards, first for being so respectful of one of metal’s great anthems, and secondly for making me like you.

Glenn Hughes is one of the few vocalists of Dio’s generation still going who is still able to cut it. And cut it he does, on “Catch The Rainbow”. It is a beautiful rendition of a beautiful song, ably backed by Craig Goldy, Rudy Sarzo, Simon Wright.

In 1989, Dio made waves in the metal world by replacing departing guitarist Craig Goldy with a 17 year old Rowan Robertson for the album “Lock Up The Wolves”. Long-time bass player and song writing partner Jimmy Bain also left the band. Fast forward to 2013, and the pair played together on this cover of Black Sabbath’s “I”. This seems a bit of an odd choice of a song, but that doesn’t stop this mid-pace stomping song from being a great addition to the album. It’s a strange old world...

In something of a supergroup, a union of Rob Halford, Doug Aldrich, Jeff Pilson, and Vinny Appice produces an unusual version of “Man On The Silver Mountain”. Despite all the talent and years of musical experience, this lacks the drama and feel of the original. The guitar work from Aldrich is pretty fucking good though.

Metallica being Metallica, they decided one song wasn’t enough, so they stuck together a medley of four Rainbow songs. The medley comes in at nearly 10 minutes long, but who the hell is going to tell Metallica they need to cut things back a bit? No matter, like what they did with the Mercyful Fate medley on “Garage Inc.”, this Frankensong is pretty fucking good, not dragging or seeming like it’s 10 minutes long. It’s also refreshing to hear a band doing something a bit different with the music, as in adapting it to their own style, instead of sticking faithfully to the original.

And what better way to round out a tribute to Ronnie, than to include an atypical song by the man himself? Recorded in 1996, “This Is Your Life” is an almost operatic composition, backed by piano and strings, which affords the great man’s voice the space it needs to really flourish. The purity and clarity of sound on this track is almost never heard in rock music. More than anything, it shows that the others here, no matter their pedigree, are pretenders, existing in Dio’s shadow, even from beyond the grave.

There is a bonus track to the digital version of this album, with Jasta performing “Buried Alive”. It’s a bit jarring after the beautiful Dio track. Hardcore shouter Jamey Jasta proves he can sing, and his band can play more than just metallic hardcore, and this is a great, heavy version of the song. However, the person who came up with the idea of tacking this onto the end of the album needs a punch in the throat.

Tribute albums like this can come across as a bit half assed at times, but this is the exception. Often tributes make you long for the originals. This album does not. Everyone on here was a fan, and knew and respected the man in question, and loved the music. That love and respect shows through here.