Track of Doom

I find it unfortunate that the Netherlands' 80s traditional metal scene is often overshadowed by those of other countries: sure, it's not comparable to that of the US or the UK, but I find it to be just as deserving of attention as the Swedish scene or the French scene, and pretty close to the German one, too. Digging into it pretty quickly turns up greats like Vault, Vortex, Martyr, Dark Wizard, or the subject of today's review, Angus. In fact, given how few bands really emerged in the scene, relative to many others, the percentage of quality bands is pretty astounding; it seems like close to 50% of them are at least pretty decent, and of course many better than that. Angus' debut album Track of Doom really should have been a lot bigger; it has all the hallmarks of a classic album, with killer riffs, out of this world leads, an utterly talented and charismatic vocalist, and even a top-notch production. Of course, this is hardly the worst example in overlooked Dutch metal releases, as Vault's Sword of Steel as just as good, yet never even made it out of demo territory. Despite the fact that the German scene next door seemed to have a thriving metal scene with plenty of popular bands, it seems the funding, the audience, or both were lacking in the 1980s Netherlands. However, for those of us given the privilege of hearing it now with the advent of high-speed internet, it's quite a treat indeed.

Besides the great music, the album also happens to have fantastic cover art - who the fuck doesn't want to see dueling barbarian centaurs during a thunderstorm? It's hard to get much more fucking metal than that. It's also a spot-on visual representation of the mood presented in the album; one of savage, uncompromising speed and utterly over-the-top aggression and adventure. Right out of the gate the appropriately-titled instrumental "The Centaur" ambushes the listener with a barrage of swirling leads and epic, galloping riffs. The fact that this is the very first song on their very first album characterizes the mentality they wanted to put forward with brilliant clarity; this band was going to be about insane riffs and leads, a full-force, untainted vision of true heavy metal vigor and exuberance, and anyone who wants anything less ought to head someplace else. This vision doesn't become any weaker with subsequent tracks, and the listener is presented with slab after slab of huge, meaty metal with "When Giants Collide," the title track, and "Heavyweight Warrior." Vocalist Edgar Lois complements the insanity of the guitars with his rough, mean, yet clear and intelligible vocals, usually sticking to a roaring midrange that's accompanied by occasional shrieks. Essentially, this is a more refined version of Conan the Barbarian - certainly sharing similarities to Omen's own JD Kimball, though Lois's approach is slightly cleaner and more polished (not much, though). If The Netherland's Omen doesn't suggest to you that this is something you might want to look into, it's clearly not for you.

The only track that sways slightly from the brutal race is "Finally Out," whose softer intro would be better off eschewed for more crazy guitar antics, though it's by no means bad, and I find the vocal lines slightly less enthralling than in the other songs, though it's still a very enjoyable song and not one that should be skipped; just that I don't find myself wanting to sing along with every chorus and air guitar to every solo. Choruses, by the way, are something this album does very, very well, another similarity and their own debut, Battle Cry. I dare you to just try not to sing along to lines like "The gates are open for you and for me, please don't worry, war you'll never see!" or "Sweet woman can you give me some wine, alcohol is nice and I love to feel fine!" In the case of "Heavyweight Warrior" it's perhaps the verses that are more memorable, and maybe my favorite line from the album is "The heavyweight warriors are ready...for their ATTAAAAAAAACK!" All in all, this is a professional, memorable, non-stop riff monster of a release, and any traditional or USPM fan in their right mind should stop what they're doing right now and play this album from stop to finish, then do it again, and maybe one more time for good measure. It really is that good.

“…if Thor’s hammer is high above the rest, all the Gods are shivering, they know there’ll be a test…”

This Dutch quartet is adorable to a point. They dress like it’s mid-’82, play like it’s late ’83, and the running amok centaur cover could probably stretch across the entire decade, but none of this is a distraction when the record scantily crackles to life. With cheese-layered confidence in a resolute Grim Reaper sorta way, upon initial spin it’s fairly conspicuous the band itself, or at least its ideals, aren’t hurling in from far-flung reaches, but Angus proclaim a passion that hinges on compulsive, elbow bent in a steady salute to a style that in their hands is unexpectedly explosive. Track of Doom, the band’s first, rolls off energy in spools that even during its more mid-ranged gallop is superbly vibrant, fresh like new produce that concedes the impression that these guys dig deeply the early speed metal style that, by ’86, was pretty much being circled by moths.

Within this eight-tracker, creativity somehow gets stuck in an almost bizarre paradox that doesn’t lie in its heady brew of velocity and melody as one may expect, but in evidence that some of these songs closely mirror one another at a few important angles: vocal delivery, rhythmic arrangement, and most vividly, percussive drive. Immense rolls of double bass barely stop when started and rarely veer onto another road of action, dominating entire tracks without regard to redundancy, but this (is where the paradox kicks in) obvious sameness strangely doesn’t devolve the songs’ impact where it lives, allowing the roiling “When Giants Collide”, “Heavyweight Warrior” and wordless “Dragon Chase” to survive despite breathing very similar, carbon monoxide-filled air. Normally a bell of doom would echo because of this, but in this case it’s a careless captivator that isn’t easily explained away.

While windchasers like “When Giants Collide” and “Heavyweight Warriors” are possessed of fairly virulent, straight-steamed riffage, speedster and slowster alike entangle in a naturally flowing classical persuasion (bassist Gerard Carol is a formally trained violinist) without a proggy branding, fingers sometimes flailing scale-like along fretboards in streamlined guitar volleys that sweet-talk another dimension into instrumental album kickoff “The Centaur”, parts of “The Gate”, the detailed yet refined title cut, and cool silk glove over steel gauntlet “Lost Control”.

Last but far from least, vocalist Edgar Lois is unabashed in his early Bobby Ellsworth meets Messiah Marcolin charge, his clean and boisterously flung pipes reverberating all over the place, clutching at many righteous Dio-isms that rise more vehemently within follow-up Warrior of the World and here inflame lyrics dangling Norse, anthemic, and steely sensual themes that aren’t exactly a surprise. With a hardy production that throws them right in front of the train, they’re hard to miss.

Angus is a cool band. Not alarmingly different, just reverential in its late-day, spear-gripped speed metal proposal. And it’s true that they’re named after a popular Aussie guitarist (possibly the original headbanger) and meat.