Burning the Born Again... A New Philosophy
Okay, this is fucking awesome. The atmospheric, synthy Goblin-esque intro gives me a quick moment to tell you that Colorado's Satan's Host have been going for about two decades now, honing their underground thrash sound to a sharper and more serrated point. SO here we are in the year 2007 and purveyors of all things black, Moribund Cult Records, have snatched them up from the underground and given them a new purpose and new audience. Satan's Host are, like Napalm Death, a legacy band, founder Patrick Evil (YES!) having assembled a (mostly) new blood lineup, roughing up the edges of his sleek thrashy riffs, giving them a blackened discoloration. It's fucking cool though, the sound of "Burning the Born Again" is classic thrash, without the museum piece stigma or self-conscious retrofitting that often accompanies this type of musique. What we're left with is a smoldering slab of good ol' Satanic death-heaviness executed with aplbom and acumen! "Burning" is reminiscent of the sound of classic Swedish death metal, especially Entombed circa "Left Hand Path," evil thrash like Dark Angel, some tense Iron Maiden-y bits and a lot of the early deathcore like Carcass. It's dirty and grungy as fuck. Downtuned, buzzing migraine guitars and catchy, vile riffery gives way to technical sections that never forget the essential brutality of their tunes (but evoking that awesome unpredciable bird on a wire tension of metal), a tight, speedy rhythm section, great discordant leads landing between Motorhead and Morbid Angel, and sicko vocals like LG Petrov and Jeff Walker, just way more unhinged. That sense of wild abandon and dedication to their blunt-force craft, nudges them way above their younger peers.
Check the call-and-rssponse chorus of "H.E.L.L." - in between blistering speed runs! Or the brittle, doomy riffing in "A Darkmoon Gathering!" The Dead Can Dance interlude of "A New Philosophy!" The swaggering riffery on "The Unholy Sabbath!" There's like a million fucking songs on this album. No way that you won't get your money's worth. Here's hoping all those nu-thrash dorkos give the proper respect to these dissolute godfathers. Too good to be a cult obscurity.