Elegy for the Weak

Lord Sral sat behind his oak desk in his office overlooking the river Styx. In the background he could hear the tortured screams of thousands of musicians who had sold their soul for fame. It was music to his ears. Lord Sral’s official job title was Bastion Of Hades Infernal Corrupter, Audio. BOHICA for short. His job was to corrupt the hearts and souls of musicians, urging them to sell-out and compromise for the lowest possible amount. Sral’s secretary paged him over the intercom.

“Beelzebub on line two, Lord.”

“Thank you, Durst.”

A short click and the Lord of Flies’ voice boomed across the line. “Sral! How are you, you old goat?” It sounded to Sral as if the Dark Lord had another three martini lunch again.

“Not bad, Bill. What can I do you for?” Sral replied. “Madonna wanting another shot at sainthood again?”

“Nothing that easy this time, Sral.” The demon chuffed. “Got another Metal band from the Netherlands that has my office in a tizzy.”

“That’s nothing. I’ll wave a large advance in their face, talk them into a few Gothenburg cliches and before you can say ‘Bob’s yer Uncle’ we’ve got another At The Gates clone.” Sral replied, checking his manicure.

Satan growled, belched and farted twice. “Not gonna be that easy. This ain’t no wanna-be Korn clone that’ll sell out for a free tattoo and a dozen cases of Yoo-Hoo. How is Durst, anyway?”

“He’s fine. Looks good in a dress, just not as tight as he once was. I think he gave me the clap, though.” Sral shifted uncomfortably. “Seriously, Bill. If I can corrupt Metallica I think a bunch of Tulip sniffin’ cheese monkeys will be no challenge at all.”

“You’d better be right, Sral. If you fail… Let’s just say that you’ll be wearing the dress when you next come to my office.”

“Not a problem, Oh Dark One. Whose dreams am I crushing?”

“Legion Of The Damned.They are re-releasing some old songs from Elegy For The Weak, released during their previous incarnation as Occult. I do not want this released! If metalheads find out about this album it could be bad. I especially don’t want those insufferable assholes at the Treehouse Of Death to know. ”

Sral placed Feel The Blade into his player and turned the volume up. Nuclear Torment blasted from the speakers and threw Sral across the room. Maurice Swinkels howling vocals screeched into Sral’s ears, popping his left eardrum. Rising to his feet Sral could feel the concussive force of Erik Fleuren’s drums batter his skull. Songs began to meld themselves into a hellride of epic proportions. Harold Gielen’s bass rumbled across the room while Richard Ebisch thrashed his guitar within an inch of Sral’s life. Feel The Blade cut into Sral’s spine with scalpel like efficiency while guitar hooks tore into his flesh like a rabid wolverine with a meth habit. By the time Chronic Infection pounded it’s way through the speakers Sral had been turned into a limp rag-doll, his blood splashed across the walls of his office. As the CD spun to a halt Sral sat dazed and exhausted.

Durst chimed in over the intercom. “Beelzebub on line two again, Lord.”

A chunk of ice formed in Sral’s stomach. “Tell him that I’m out to lunch.”

Durst’s voice rang out again. “He’s not buying it, Lord. He says that you’d better answer or he’ll have you turned into a wart on the nether-regions of Tommy Lee.”

Straightening his tie and wiping as much of the blood off of his face as possible Sral composed himself and picked up the phone. “Well?” The Lord of Flies barked.

“Uh, we have a problem Oh Dark One. This music is…is…brutal. It borders on being almost out of control and, dare I say, vicious. We must declare this album krieg and prepare for the fallout.”

Beelzebub sat quietly for a minute taking this in. “I agree.” He answered, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ll do what I can to stop the damage, planting seeds of discontent that this album is rehashed thrash and all that. Let’s just hope that I can be convincing. By the way Sral, I expect you in my office in the next hour. Wear that slinky red number.”

Hanging up, Sral began to weep.



Originally posted at the Treehouse Of Death

Yet another kick ass thrash album released in 2008. Simply put this is awesome death/thrash: nothing less and nothing more. No nonsense, but a whole lot of aggression and evilness. In-your-face thrash riffs and death metal vocals combined into one great headbanging fest. I recommend this to everybody who likes death/thrash or brutal thrash.

The music is reminiscent of old-school death/thrash, very much in the vein of Morbid Saint. The production is a whole lot cleaner than the '80s bands and that's the only big difference between this band and the old bands. This also implies there's nothing new to be found here, nor is there much variation. But who cares, right? The riffage is excellent and if you're in the mood for some no-nonsense thrash check out this record.

Pros:
- the riffs. Hyper-speed tremolo riffs as well as mid-paced skullcrushing breakdowns. Everything a thrasher would ask for!
- the vocals. In the style of proto-death and executed with skill.
- the drums. Flawless execution and a balanced mix between death and thrash metal styled drumming.

Cons:
- basically no variation. Nothing original either, though obviously that's not the point of the music.
- too clean production. Other than the fact that the production is too clean, it's great; but a rawer mix would suit the album better.
- the bass. Too low in the mix and too similar to the rhythm guitar.

Where to begin! This album slays! It's the modern black thrash classic! Every damn track on this album just bursts out of the gate, drops you on the floor and leaves you defiled like a sorry sack. And even better, I got this one used for cheap :D:D:D!!

The first thing I noticed was the riffs. Very Dark Angel/Morbid Saint like. Buzzsaw style riffs that don't relent and punish the listener. I would like to hear the bass stand alone a little more, but that's just because I love bass lines. The vocals, man! They vary from the normal black metal grunts and shrieks to the random growls thrown in there. And when the music speeds up, they do a great job of keeping everything together, including the vocals, and I don't know how he doesn't get tired from vocalizing so fast! The lyrics are like a huge sheet of death, torture, sex, and occult smut rolled into 40 minutes. The only complaint I have (and it's a small one), is the drumming. It's good and all, but I would have liked to have heard some more black metal influenced drumming, hence the missing points. Some of the faster sections could have used the blast beats and such, and seemed a bit weaker, but it isn't too big of a deal. The drummer still keeps very good time and makes everything sound great. There are no solos either, so if you are one of those idiots that think, "Because it has thrash as it's genre, it has to have guitar solos", well you ain't getting none! STFU and listen, it's great.

The songs that I found were amazing were Nuclear Torment, Obssessed With the Grave, and Slut of Sodom. How they found so many ways to refer to an easy woman is beyond me...come on, harlot! Great shit! I'm in the process of gathering their past albums and enjoying the hell out of this one. This album rules.

Ah... the moment I've been waiting for! This band has pretty much lost it's black metal outfit and has entered in the everlasting world of thrash metal. And you know what... this fucking owns! It's a hellish release again simmilar to Sodom, but this time more melodic and the guitar tone itself very simmilar to Exhorder once more. The riffing style can be described in one word... and that is: Dark Angel - the simmilarty is obvious and you can see the riffs morfing into each other into a nuclear riff assault mayhem.

They are really good in what they do, being one of the better thrash metal acts nowadays. Probably the two songs that really impress me are Nuclear Torment and Nocturnal Predator with some well done speed riffing.

This band definetly gets better and better, sure they don't refresh the genre with something new or revolutionary, but they play their music loud and proud.