#crossoverthrash — Public Fediverse posts on home.social

Clássico de 1989 do Dirty Rotten Imbeciles ganha reedição remasterizada pela Fuzz On Discos em tiragem de 300 cópias. Marco do crossover thrash, o álbum consolidou a transição da banda do hardcore para o thrash metal técnico e esteve na Billboard 200.

https://radio-b-c-underground.com.br/news/d-r-i-thrash-zone-ganha-relancamento-em-vinil-pela-fuzz-on-discos/
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#DRI #DirtyRottenImbeciles #ThrashZone #CrossoverThrash #ThrashMetal #HardcorePunk #Crossover #VinilLimitado #Relançamento #Billboard200 #UndergroundMetal #RadioUndergroundStreaming

#dri #dirtyrottenimbeciles #thrashzone #crossoverthrash #thrashmetal #hardcorepunk

CHICAGO ASK A PUNK @[email protected] · 2026-02-26 · 05:31 UTC

Texas Metalpunks on tour

la casa del migrante 3, Sunday, March 29 at 07:00 PM CDT

Sexcult Austin Texas and Shadow Hounds (San Antonio) with support from local Riot Grrrls Split Ends and Corrupture.

All ages $15pwyc doors 7 noise 8

https://chicago.askapunk.net/event/texas-metalpunks-on-tour

#punk #chicagodiy #allages #crossoverthrash #riotgrrrl #metalpunk

CHICAGO ASK A PUNK @[email protected] · 2026-02-26 · 05:30 UTC

Texas Metalpunks on tour

la casa del migrante 3, Sunday, March 29 at 07:00 PM CDT

Sexcult Austin Texas and Shadow Hounds (San Antonio) with support from local Riot Grrrls Split Ends and Corrupture.

All ages $15pwyc doors 7 noise 8

https://chicago.askapunk.net/event/texas-metalpunks-on-tour

#punk #chicagodiy #allages #crossoverthrash #riotgrrrl #metalpunk

CHICAGO ASK A PUNK @[email protected] · 2026-02-26 · 05:30 UTC

Texas Metalpunks on tour

la casa del migrante 3, Sunday, March 29 at 07:00 PM CDT

Sexcult Austin Texas and Shadow Hounds (San Antonio) with support from local Riot Grrrls Split Ends and Corrupture.

All ages $15pwyc doors 7 noise 8

https://chicago.askapunk.net/event/texas-metalpunks-on-tour

#punk #chicagodiy #allages #crossoverthrash #riotgrrrl #metalpunk

CHICAGO ASK A PUNK @[email protected] · 2026-02-26 · 05:30 UTC

Texas Metalpunks on tour

la casa del migrante 3, Sunday, March 29 at 07:00 PM CDT

Sexcult Austin Texas and Shadow Hounds (San Antonio) with support from local Riot Grrrls Split Ends and Corrupture.

All ages $15pwyc doors 7 noise 8

https://chicago.askapunk.net/event/texas-metalpunks-on-tour

#metalpunk #riotgrrrl #crossoverthrash #allages #chicagodiy #punk

CHICAGO ASK A PUNK @[email protected] · 2026-02-13 · 01:41 UTC

Crusties Loud Night!

la casa del migrante 3, Thursday, March 26 at 07:00 PM CDT

DUKKHA (Pittsburgh/Youngstown Crust), JAIL (Detroit Metalpunk), KNOTWORK (Detroit Crusher Crust), and locals Contracharge bring you a night of crossover, crust and Dbeats on their way to Northern Ruin 3 in Minneapolis!

All ages $15 notaflof doors 7 noise 8

Presented by Crust/Grind Chicago and Breaking the Borders.

https://chicago.askapunk.net/event/crusties-spend-loud-night

#chicagodiy #hardcore #allages #crustpunk #dbeat #goblins

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-11-16 · 14:17 UTC

Cold Steel – Discipline & Punish Review

By Lavender Larcenist

Debut albums are a fickle thing. Often the strongest release by a band for years to come, even giving rise to the term “sophomore slump” when the inevitable follow-up can’t hit the same highs. And so, debuts are make-or-break. For Tampa’s Cold Steel, Discipline & Punish is such a piping hot serving of crossover thrash, I can’t help but be excited for their future. The Florida sextet’s first LP feels so cohesive and energetic; keeping pace will be a challenge. For now, we can revel in the absolute monster that is Discipline & Punish and enjoy a young band that is clearly firing on all cylinders and loving every minute of it.

I had no clue Cold Steel existed before their debut LP showed up in AMG’s promo pile-up, but the great hooks and a sick album cover (I am a simple woman) piqued my interest. I was immediately addicted to the catchy songs, frantic pacing, and infectious energy. Power Trip is fucking awesome (original take), and they constantly came to mind while I spun Discipline & Punish on repeat. It was no surprise then, when I learned that Cold Steel’s debut was produced by none other than Arthur Rizk (Blood Incantation, Undeath, Power Trip), it makes sense that they are the first band in a while that capture that same brand of hook-driven, manic energy that makes you wanna break a bottle on your head and start a bar fight. Jose Menedez’s vocals immediately reminded me of Riley Gale’s (RIP) signature mix of thrash edge and punk passion, mirroring some Power Trip greats, like “Firing Squad” and “Waiting Around to Die”.

It comes as no surprise, then, that the production suits Discipline & Punish perfectly. Things never get as grimy or lo-fi as many of their inspirations; Menendez’s voice is crisp and clear while leaving space for a raw edge that keeps Discipline & Punish sounding immediate and decidedly trash. Every instrument has space to thrive as massive hardcore breakdowns mix perfectly with intertwining thrash riffs. The triple (yes, triple) guitar assault of Rafi Carbonell, Shawn Wallen, and Rafael Calderon weaves between criss-crossing rhythms, hooky leads, and melting faces. As a cherry on top, Janpierre Mojica’s bass sounds thick and juicy, slamming along like a lumbering beast through the warzone of sound. Brandon Thrift’s drums tie the whole thing together, with clear percussion, driving kicks, and a military-esque tinge that fits the album’s theming well.

Menendez is a high point of Discipline & Punish. His vocal phrasing and energy drive the whole album. You can’t help but bounce along as he screeches “Blood by the liters, they’re not gonna need em” on “Killing Season”, or ripping through “Front to Enemy” alongside a feature with Aaron Heard of Jesus Piece. Like a snowball in an avalanche, Menendez gains more speed, momentum, and ferocity throughout the record, barreling over everything in his path. The biggest surprise on an album full of rippers is “Smoking Mirrors,” featuring local hip-hop/hardcore duo Two-Piece. The combination of ’80s-esque record scratches and looping off-tone siren mixes perfectly with the hooky, chugging riffs and Menendez’s manic energy. Cold Steel takes an idea that should end up like oil and water, and turns it into chocolate and peanut butter.

There are so many good things to say about Discipline & Punish. The record is tight but not too short at ten tracks and thirty-five minutes, making for a listen that is all killer, no filler. It is impossible to even pick highlights between so many standouts. From the unhinged “Front to Enemy” to the crushing “Blacksmith of Damnation” or the bouncing “Killing Season”, there is something for everyone. Then there is the surprising “Smoking Mirrors”, the atmospheric “Fever Dreaming”, and the epic closing track “The Coldest Death”, with a finale that brought to mind Horrendous of all things. Cold Steel keeps you on your toes the whole time. It is an embarrassment of riches with Discipline & Punish, an album that demands you hit the play button one more time with every spin. No album is perfect, but Discipline & Punish is a hell of a start for a young band making their foray into a storied and crowded genre. Luckily, it already looks like Cold Steel doesn’t intend to rest on its laurels, with a mix of genre-bending tracks that stretch the lines of crossover thrash and hardcore. The title may call to mind authoritarian torture, but if Cold Steel is administering the pain, you are in for a good time.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: A goddamned stream
Label: Spinefarm
Websites: coldsteel813.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/coldsteelbandfl
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#2025 #40 #americanMetal #bloodIncantation #coldSteel #crossover #crossoverThrash #disciplinePunish #hardcore #hardcorePunk #hipHop #horrendous #jesusPiece #nov25 #powerTrip #review #reviews #spinefarm #twoPiece #undeath

#americanmetal #bloodincantation #coldsteel #crossover #crossoverthrash #disciplinepunish

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-15 · 11:21 UTC

Cruel Bomb – Cruel Bomb Review

By Tyme

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, is home to self-proclaimed ‘thrash metal titans,’ Cruel Bomb. Since forming in 2018, Cruel Bomb has released three EPs—2019’s Manhattan Mischief, 2020’s Trinity Terror, and 2022’s Man Made—while touring extensively along the East Coast. Now, wrapped in an energetically bright and nuclearly holocaustic package courtesy of artist Ed Repka, Cruel Bomb prepares to drop their eponymous, independent debut album. Crafting your debut as a nod to the Big 4, while not entirely original, does come with certain expectations, at least for this reviewer. So, I mindfully sat down to pen my missive, wondering if Cruel Bomb would be the band to put Wilkes-Barre on the thrash map, or if they’d blown their whole wad requisitioning that cool cover art.

Cruel Bomb never reaches the other side of the crossover bridge with a sound more hardcore than thrash. Kenny Barto and Brandon James lay down formulaically straightforward riffs of the speedy, chuggy, and breakdown variety. And ohh, the breakdowns. Present throughout, they keep Cruel Bomb planted primarily in Hatebreed and sometimes, Power Trip territory. I also sensed whiffs of Slayer lurking about via harmonic leads (“Hell Hounds”) and Hell Awaits-like chugging (“Night of the Hunt”). Barto’s solo work makes brief appearances, which are either noodly and short-lived (“Target Neutralized”) or comprised of fretfully executed dive bombs (“Glass House”). Nick Hennebaul’s bass lines—perkily plucked and punky—permeate Cruel Bomb’s low spaces and are audibly satisfying, a result of the production job from Novro Studios, while Kyle McKeown rounds out the rhythm section and does a decent job D-beating his way through Cruel Bomb, his performance enhanced by flourishing fills and machine-gun double kicks. Vocals are hard, core, and shouted, courtesy of Brandon James, and though effectively executed, sound so much like Jamey Jasta, it was hard for me to pick out moments that didn’t remind me of Hatebreed. Framed by formula and trope, Cruel Bomb’s thrash is just hardcore in sheep’s clothing.

Mainly a mix of homogenized moments, there were a few points during Cruel Bomb that I found more engaging. Not only due to the strange, cartoonish voice at the beginning, “Hell Hounds” stood out because of its lively bass work, mid-paced thrashery, and an interlude where everything stops long enough for Brandon to scream, ‘Retreat?! We just got here!” before launching into the tracks second half. I also took note of the stanky grooves and great chorus of “Gravemind” in addition to the speedy riffs and lengthiest solo work—a whammy-tinged fret-du-jour preceded by a nice little guitar lick—on “The End.” Beyond these flashes, however, most of what Cruel Bomb does is awash in waves of similitude cannibalizing off one central idea, riff/breakdown/riff/repeat.

As good a production job as Eric Novroski did, providing enough organic spaces for Cruel Bomb’s instrumentation to thrive, a lack of dynamic songwriting and a no-escape-from-the-vocals approach hold Cruel Bomb back the most. Obligatory intro and the aforementioned “Hell Hounds” aside, every other track on Cruel Bomb starts one of two ways, with a speed happy riff or drum and chug breakdown, adhering strictly to a too-safely written formula resulting in a narrowly conceived batch of hardcore tunes that, by the time “Glass House” rolled around, had me glancing at the clock and suffering from listeners fatigue. In addition, James’ very one-dimensional vocal attack made what should have been an easily digestible thirty-four-minute platter drag, feeling much longer. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon James is a good vocalist and the amount of chesty power he brings to his shouts works. Still, his lack of tonal variety—notwithstanding the few seconds in “World Breaker” where he manages to dip into a slightly lower register—grates after a while, especially when overpowering most of Cruel Bomb’s attempts at gang shouts, which could have served as a vocal counterpoint.

I respect Cruel Bomb’s commitment to their aesthetic and craft, even down to the logo, which I dig. Yet despite my rather negative take, I don’t believe Cruel Bomb is a complete swing and miss. It’s clear these four, a quartet since 2023, have spent a lot of time touring and playing together, reflected in Cruel Bomb’s taut performances. With a more adventurous songwriting approach and some vocal contrast, Cruel Bomb has the talent to do more. Hardcore enthusiasts and Hatebreed fans should find things to like, and though I won’t return to Cruel Bomb after closing my laptop on this review, I’ll be watching for what comes next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #CrossoverThrash #CruelBomb #Hardcore #Hatebreed #PowerTrip #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Slayer

#americanmetal #aug25 #crossoverthrash #cruelbomb #hardcore #hatebreed

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-15 · 11:21 UTC

Cruel Bomb – Cruel Bomb Review

By Tyme

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, is home to self-proclaimed ‘thrash metal titans,’ Cruel Bomb. Since forming in 2018, Cruel Bomb has released three EPs—2019’s Manhattan Mischief, 2020’s Trinity Terror, and 2022’s Man Made—while touring extensively along the East Coast. Now, wrapped in an energetically bright and nuclearly holocaustic package courtesy of artist Ed Repka, Cruel Bomb prepares to drop their eponymous, independent debut album. Crafting your debut as a nod to the Big 4, while not entirely original, does come with certain expectations, at least for this reviewer. So, I mindfully sat down to pen my missive, wondering if Cruel Bomb would be the band to put Wilkes-Barre on the thrash map, or if they’d blown their whole wad requisitioning that cool cover art.

Cruel Bomb never reaches the other side of the crossover bridge with a sound more hardcore than thrash. Kenny Barto and Brandon James lay down formulaically straightforward riffs of the speedy, chuggy, and breakdown variety. And ohh, the breakdowns. Present throughout, they keep Cruel Bomb planted primarily in Hatebreed and sometimes, Power Trip territory. I also sensed whiffs of Slayer lurking about via harmonic leads (“Hell Hounds”) and Hell Awaits-like chugging (“Night of the Hunt”). Barto’s solo work makes brief appearances, which are either noodly and short-lived (“Target Neutralized”) or comprised of fretfully executed dive bombs (“Glass House”). Nick Hennebaul’s bass lines—perkily plucked and punky—permeate Cruel Bomb’s low spaces and are audibly satisfying, a result of the production job from Novro Studios, while Kyle McKeown rounds out the rhythm section and does a decent job D-beating his way through Cruel Bomb, his performance enhanced by flourishing fills and machine-gun double kicks. Vocals are hard, core, and shouted, courtesy of Brandon James, and though effectively executed, sound so much like Jamey Jasta, it was hard for me to pick out moments that didn’t remind me of Hatebreed. Framed by formula and trope, Cruel Bomb’s thrash is just hardcore in sheep’s clothing.

Mainly a mix of homogenized moments, there were a few points during Cruel Bomb that I found more engaging. Not only due to the strange, cartoonish voice at the beginning, “Hell Hounds” stood out because of its lively bass work, mid-paced thrashery, and an interlude where everything stops long enough for Brandon to scream, ‘Retreat?! We just got here!” before launching into the tracks second half. I also took note of the stanky grooves and great chorus of “Gravemind” in addition to the speedy riffs and lengthiest solo work—a whammy-tinged fret-du-jour preceded by a nice little guitar lick—on “The End.” Beyond these flashes, however, most of what Cruel Bomb does is awash in waves of similitude cannibalizing off one central idea, riff/breakdown/riff/repeat.

As good a production job as Eric Novroski did, providing enough organic spaces for Cruel Bomb’s instrumentation to thrive, a lack of dynamic songwriting and a no-escape-from-the-vocals approach hold Cruel Bomb back the most. Obligatory intro and the aforementioned “Hell Hounds” aside, every other track on Cruel Bomb starts one of two ways, with a speed happy riff or drum and chug breakdown, adhering strictly to a too-safely written formula resulting in a narrowly conceived batch of hardcore tunes that, by the time “Glass House” rolled around, had me glancing at the clock and suffering from listeners fatigue. In addition, James’ very one-dimensional vocal attack made what should have been an easily digestible thirty-four-minute platter drag, feeling much longer. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon James is a good vocalist and the amount of chesty power he brings to his shouts works. Still, his lack of tonal variety—notwithstanding the few seconds in “World Breaker” where he manages to dip into a slightly lower register—grates after a while, especially when overpowering most of Cruel Bomb’s attempts at gang shouts, which could have served as a vocal counterpoint.

I respect Cruel Bomb’s commitment to their aesthetic and craft, even down to the logo, which I dig. Yet despite my rather negative take, I don’t believe Cruel Bomb is a complete swing and miss. It’s clear these four, a quartet since 2023, have spent a lot of time touring and playing together, reflected in Cruel Bomb’s taut performances. With a more adventurous songwriting approach and some vocal contrast, Cruel Bomb has the talent to do more. Hardcore enthusiasts and Hatebreed fans should find things to like, and though I won’t return to Cruel Bomb after closing my laptop on this review, I’ll be watching for what comes next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #CrossoverThrash #CruelBomb #Hardcore #Hatebreed #PowerTrip #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Slayer

#americanmetal #aug25 #crossoverthrash #cruelbomb #hardcore #hatebreed

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-15 · 11:21 UTC

Cruel Bomb – Cruel Bomb Review

By Tyme

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, is home to self-proclaimed ‘thrash metal titans,’ Cruel Bomb. Since forming in 2018, Cruel Bomb has released three EPs—2019’s Manhattan Mischief, 2020’s Trinity Terror, and 2022’s Man Made—while touring extensively along the East Coast. Now, wrapped in an energetically bright and nuclearly holocaustic package courtesy of artist Ed Repka, Cruel Bomb prepares to drop their eponymous, independent debut album. Crafting your debut as a nod to the Big 4, while not entirely original, does come with certain expectations, at least for this reviewer. So, I mindfully sat down to pen my missive, wondering if Cruel Bomb would be the band to put Wilkes-Barre on the thrash map, or if they’d blown their whole wad requisitioning that cool cover art.

Cruel Bomb never reaches the other side of the crossover bridge with a sound more hardcore than thrash. Kenny Barto and Brandon James lay down formulaically straightforward riffs of the speedy, chuggy, and breakdown variety. And ohh, the breakdowns. Present throughout, they keep Cruel Bomb planted primarily in Hatebreed and sometimes, Power Trip territory. I also sensed whiffs of Slayer lurking about via harmonic leads (“Hell Hounds”) and Hell Awaits-like chugging (“Night of the Hunt”). Barto’s solo work makes brief appearances, which are either noodly and short-lived (“Target Neutralized”) or comprised of fretfully executed dive bombs (“Glass House”). Nick Hennebaul’s bass lines—perkily plucked and punky—permeate Cruel Bomb’s low spaces and are audibly satisfying, a result of the production job from Novro Studios, while Kyle McKeown rounds out the rhythm section and does a decent job D-beating his way through Cruel Bomb, his performance enhanced by flourishing fills and machine-gun double kicks. Vocals are hard, core, and shouted, courtesy of Brandon James, and though effectively executed, sound so much like Jamey Jasta, it was hard for me to pick out moments that didn’t remind me of Hatebreed. Framed by formula and trope, Cruel Bomb’s thrash is just hardcore in sheep’s clothing.

Mainly a mix of homogenized moments, there were a few points during Cruel Bomb that I found more engaging. Not only due to the strange, cartoonish voice at the beginning, “Hell Hounds” stood out because of its lively bass work, mid-paced thrashery, and an interlude where everything stops long enough for Brandon to scream, ‘Retreat?! We just got here!” before launching into the tracks second half. I also took note of the stanky grooves and great chorus of “Gravemind” in addition to the speedy riffs and lengthiest solo work—a whammy-tinged fret-du-jour preceded by a nice little guitar lick—on “The End.” Beyond these flashes, however, most of what Cruel Bomb does is awash in waves of similitude cannibalizing off one central idea, riff/breakdown/riff/repeat.

As good a production job as Eric Novroski did, providing enough organic spaces for Cruel Bomb’s instrumentation to thrive, a lack of dynamic songwriting and a no-escape-from-the-vocals approach hold Cruel Bomb back the most. Obligatory intro and the aforementioned “Hell Hounds” aside, every other track on Cruel Bomb starts one of two ways, with a speed happy riff or drum and chug breakdown, adhering strictly to a too-safely written formula resulting in a narrowly conceived batch of hardcore tunes that, by the time “Glass House” rolled around, had me glancing at the clock and suffering from listeners fatigue. In addition, James’ very one-dimensional vocal attack made what should have been an easily digestible thirty-four-minute platter drag, feeling much longer. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon James is a good vocalist and the amount of chesty power he brings to his shouts works. Still, his lack of tonal variety—notwithstanding the few seconds in “World Breaker” where he manages to dip into a slightly lower register—grates after a while, especially when overpowering most of Cruel Bomb’s attempts at gang shouts, which could have served as a vocal counterpoint.

I respect Cruel Bomb’s commitment to their aesthetic and craft, even down to the logo, which I dig. Yet despite my rather negative take, I don’t believe Cruel Bomb is a complete swing and miss. It’s clear these four, a quartet since 2023, have spent a lot of time touring and playing together, reflected in Cruel Bomb’s taut performances. With a more adventurous songwriting approach and some vocal contrast, Cruel Bomb has the talent to do more. Hardcore enthusiasts and Hatebreed fans should find things to like, and though I won’t return to Cruel Bomb after closing my laptop on this review, I’ll be watching for what comes next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #CrossoverThrash #CruelBomb #Hardcore #Hatebreed #PowerTrip #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Slayer

#americanmetal #aug25 #crossoverthrash #cruelbomb #hardcore #hatebreed

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-15 · 11:21 UTC

Cruel Bomb – Cruel Bomb Review

By Tyme

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, is home to self-proclaimed ‘thrash metal titans,’ Cruel Bomb. Since forming in 2018, Cruel Bomb has released three EPs—2019’s Manhattan Mischief, 2020’s Trinity Terror, and 2022’s Man Made—while touring extensively along the East Coast. Now, wrapped in an energetically bright and nuclearly holocaustic package courtesy of artist Ed Repka, Cruel Bomb prepares to drop their eponymous, independent debut album. Crafting your debut as a nod to the Big 4, while not entirely original, does come with certain expectations, at least for this reviewer. So, I mindfully sat down to pen my missive, wondering if Cruel Bomb would be the band to put Wilkes-Barre on the thrash map, or if they’d blown their whole wad requisitioning that cool cover art.

Cruel Bomb never reaches the other side of the crossover bridge with a sound more hardcore than thrash. Kenny Barto and Brandon James lay down formulaically straightforward riffs of the speedy, chuggy, and breakdown variety. And ohh, the breakdowns. Present throughout, they keep Cruel Bomb planted primarily in Hatebreed and sometimes, Power Trip territory. I also sensed whiffs of Slayer lurking about via harmonic leads (“Hell Hounds”) and Hell Awaits-like chugging (“Night of the Hunt”). Barto’s solo work makes brief appearances, which are either noodly and short-lived (“Target Neutralized”) or comprised of fretfully executed dive bombs (“Glass House”). Nick Hennebaul’s bass lines—perkily plucked and punky—permeate Cruel Bomb’s low spaces and are audibly satisfying, a result of the production job from Novro Studios, while Kyle McKeown rounds out the rhythm section and does a decent job D-beating his way through Cruel Bomb, his performance enhanced by flourishing fills and machine-gun double kicks. Vocals are hard, core, and shouted, courtesy of Brandon James, and though effectively executed, sound so much like Jamey Jasta, it was hard for me to pick out moments that didn’t remind me of Hatebreed. Framed by formula and trope, Cruel Bomb’s thrash is just hardcore in sheep’s clothing.

Mainly a mix of homogenized moments, there were a few points during Cruel Bomb that I found more engaging. Not only due to the strange, cartoonish voice at the beginning, “Hell Hounds” stood out because of its lively bass work, mid-paced thrashery, and an interlude where everything stops long enough for Brandon to scream, ‘Retreat?! We just got here!” before launching into the tracks second half. I also took note of the stanky grooves and great chorus of “Gravemind” in addition to the speedy riffs and lengthiest solo work—a whammy-tinged fret-du-jour preceded by a nice little guitar lick—on “The End.” Beyond these flashes, however, most of what Cruel Bomb does is awash in waves of similitude cannibalizing off one central idea, riff/breakdown/riff/repeat.

As good a production job as Eric Novroski did, providing enough organic spaces for Cruel Bomb’s instrumentation to thrive, a lack of dynamic songwriting and a no-escape-from-the-vocals approach hold Cruel Bomb back the most. Obligatory intro and the aforementioned “Hell Hounds” aside, every other track on Cruel Bomb starts one of two ways, with a speed happy riff or drum and chug breakdown, adhering strictly to a too-safely written formula resulting in a narrowly conceived batch of hardcore tunes that, by the time “Glass House” rolled around, had me glancing at the clock and suffering from listeners fatigue. In addition, James’ very one-dimensional vocal attack made what should have been an easily digestible thirty-four-minute platter drag, feeling much longer. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon James is a good vocalist and the amount of chesty power he brings to his shouts works. Still, his lack of tonal variety—notwithstanding the few seconds in “World Breaker” where he manages to dip into a slightly lower register—grates after a while, especially when overpowering most of Cruel Bomb’s attempts at gang shouts, which could have served as a vocal counterpoint.

I respect Cruel Bomb’s commitment to their aesthetic and craft, even down to the logo, which I dig. Yet despite my rather negative take, I don’t believe Cruel Bomb is a complete swing and miss. It’s clear these four, a quartet since 2023, have spent a lot of time touring and playing together, reflected in Cruel Bomb’s taut performances. With a more adventurous songwriting approach and some vocal contrast, Cruel Bomb has the talent to do more. Hardcore enthusiasts and Hatebreed fans should find things to like, and though I won’t return to Cruel Bomb after closing my laptop on this review, I’ll be watching for what comes next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #CrossoverThrash #CruelBomb #Hardcore #Hatebreed #PowerTrip #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Slayer

#slayer #selfrelease #reviews #review #powertrip #hatebreed

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-15 · 11:21 UTC

Cruel Bomb – Cruel Bomb Review

By Tyme

Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, is home to self-proclaimed ‘thrash metal titans,’ Cruel Bomb. Since forming in 2018, Cruel Bomb has released three EPs—2019’s Manhattan Mischief, 2020’s Trinity Terror, and 2022’s Man Made—while touring extensively along the East Coast. Now, wrapped in an energetically bright and nuclearly holocaustic package courtesy of artist Ed Repka, Cruel Bomb prepares to drop their eponymous, independent debut album. Crafting your debut as a nod to the Big 4, while not entirely original, does come with certain expectations, at least for this reviewer. So, I mindfully sat down to pen my missive, wondering if Cruel Bomb would be the band to put Wilkes-Barre on the thrash map, or if they’d blown their whole wad requisitioning that cool cover art.

Cruel Bomb never reaches the other side of the crossover bridge with a sound more hardcore than thrash. Kenny Barto and Brandon James lay down formulaically straightforward riffs of the speedy, chuggy, and breakdown variety. And ohh, the breakdowns. Present throughout, they keep Cruel Bomb planted primarily in Hatebreed and sometimes, Power Trip territory. I also sensed whiffs of Slayer lurking about via harmonic leads (“Hell Hounds”) and Hell Awaits-like chugging (“Night of the Hunt”). Barto’s solo work makes brief appearances, which are either noodly and short-lived (“Target Neutralized”) or comprised of fretfully executed dive bombs (“Glass House”). Nick Hennebaul’s bass lines—perkily plucked and punky—permeate Cruel Bomb’s low spaces and are audibly satisfying, a result of the production job from Novro Studios, while Kyle McKeown rounds out the rhythm section and does a decent job D-beating his way through Cruel Bomb, his performance enhanced by flourishing fills and machine-gun double kicks. Vocals are hard, core, and shouted, courtesy of Brandon James, and though effectively executed, sound so much like Jamey Jasta, it was hard for me to pick out moments that didn’t remind me of Hatebreed. Framed by formula and trope, Cruel Bomb’s thrash is just hardcore in sheep’s clothing.

Mainly a mix of homogenized moments, there were a few points during Cruel Bomb that I found more engaging. Not only due to the strange, cartoonish voice at the beginning, “Hell Hounds” stood out because of its lively bass work, mid-paced thrashery, and an interlude where everything stops long enough for Brandon to scream, ‘Retreat?! We just got here!” before launching into the tracks second half. I also took note of the stanky grooves and great chorus of “Gravemind” in addition to the speedy riffs and lengthiest solo work—a whammy-tinged fret-du-jour preceded by a nice little guitar lick—on “The End.” Beyond these flashes, however, most of what Cruel Bomb does is awash in waves of similitude cannibalizing off one central idea, riff/breakdown/riff/repeat.

As good a production job as Eric Novroski did, providing enough organic spaces for Cruel Bomb’s instrumentation to thrive, a lack of dynamic songwriting and a no-escape-from-the-vocals approach hold Cruel Bomb back the most. Obligatory intro and the aforementioned “Hell Hounds” aside, every other track on Cruel Bomb starts one of two ways, with a speed happy riff or drum and chug breakdown, adhering strictly to a too-safely written formula resulting in a narrowly conceived batch of hardcore tunes that, by the time “Glass House” rolled around, had me glancing at the clock and suffering from listeners fatigue. In addition, James’ very one-dimensional vocal attack made what should have been an easily digestible thirty-four-minute platter drag, feeling much longer. Don’t get me wrong, Brandon James is a good vocalist and the amount of chesty power he brings to his shouts works. Still, his lack of tonal variety—notwithstanding the few seconds in “World Breaker” where he manages to dip into a slightly lower register—grates after a while, especially when overpowering most of Cruel Bomb’s attempts at gang shouts, which could have served as a vocal counterpoint.

I respect Cruel Bomb’s commitment to their aesthetic and craft, even down to the logo, which I dig. Yet despite my rather negative take, I don’t believe Cruel Bomb is a complete swing and miss. It’s clear these four, a quartet since 2023, have spent a lot of time touring and playing together, reflected in Cruel Bomb’s taut performances. With a more adventurous songwriting approach and some vocal contrast, Cruel Bomb has the talent to do more. Hardcore enthusiasts and Hatebreed fans should find things to like, and though I won’t return to Cruel Bomb after closing my laptop on this review, I’ll be watching for what comes next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Aug25 #CrossoverThrash #CruelBomb #Hardcore #Hatebreed #PowerTrip #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Slayer

#americanmetal #aug25 #crossoverthrash #cruelbomb #hardcore #hatebreed

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-03-07 · 12:35 UTC

Stress Test – Stress Test Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Just as much as any genre that’s been around for 40-plus years, hardcore is not a monolith, not by a long stretch. As an unleashing of rough-and-tumble punk energy with an extra flash of sharpness and swagger, its permutations can run the gamut of high-tempo riffage, ragged vocal attitude, and instrumental histrionics, all while wearing the speed-loaded label. With a classic thrash attack and a dash of grind spirit, Stress Test wears the genre like a tattered and patched denim vest befitted with snappy pull-off runs, d-beat anthemics, and short bursts fit for a moshing audience. No one needs to reinvent the urge to start up the pit to have a good time.

Featuring the rhythm section of Unto Others, with Brandon Hill assuming guitar and vocals instead of bass for Stress Test, Stress Test lands with a polish and focus not typical of acts whose songs frequent the sub-two minute range. Though that energy presents in some of the harder-hitting cuts that Unto Others has to offer, Stress Test shares little but members in the kind of drive that this debut holds. Hill and co.’s understanding of the studio helps Stress Test find smart and punchy pockets for deep bass propulsions (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior,” “Stress Test”), which go a long way in adding color to the snarl and shifty riffcraft that perpetuates its eighteen-minute run. And with colors that range from the early 90s death/grind of Napalm Death to the meatheaded aggro-crossover of Terror, Stress Test uses their experience to travel familiar paths with a skanking stride that sounds urgent.

Even though time-tested riffs and a cadence rooted in thrash history defines the simple appeal of Stress Test, its tracks flow with healthy variation to maintain a momentum that remains unbreakable and memorable. Embracing the smooth and sliding Exodus stomp with the brevity of Municipal Waste party bangers spells, on its own, an easy-to-enjoy, never-ending circle of punky abandon (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior”). But that p-word attitude, alongside the other important p’s of pummel and political edge, also serves as its hissing core, fueling snarky sample punches (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “God Sucks”) and unrelenting layered vocal assaults—a barking fervor and accompanying caveman-frenzied bellow—color the bouncing intensity as Stress Test progresses. Nothing that Stress Test rips from the sweat and beer-stained pages of thrash reads as new, but its in-and-out groove remains difficult to deny.

The choice to keep Stress Test svelte hinders how high it can fly, though. Stress Test knows their way around a whiplash tune and quick guitar hero cut-in to let accelerating tempos breathe (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “Gullible”). And while these bite-size ragers take up a small percentage of runtime in this already low-commitment affair, they also make for the most interesting guitar parts that Stress Test can muster. Of course, it would be hard to call longer cuts like mid-album “Suffer” and “Bastard Behavior” slouching, as their vocal bite and rhythmic overload ensure swinging arms and cracking necks from start to finish. However, in their self-similar nature, along with “Stress Test,” they allow fewer avenues for Stress Test to leave a stronger identifying mark.

Yet, as a feisty debut, Stress Test makes for a powerful, practiced statement. It doesn’t take a virtuoso to make music that is fast, loud, and angry. But, as Stress Test shows, steady (enough) hands and an ear looking for the right accents and accelerations will find a grace in wild tempos that mimics the fury of an untethered mind. With a varied pool of legacy influences, these Portland-based punks hold the potential to develop their low-frills sound in just about any way that they choose. And though Stress Test lacks in extreme choices that could hoist this fledgling act to a loftier status, Stress Test has taken aim at becoming a primary form of relief for those in need of boiled-over thrash madness.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transylvanian Recordings
Websites: stresstest.us | stresstestpdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/stresstestpdx
Releases Worldwide: February 28th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #Exodus #Feb25 #Hardcore #MunicipalWaste #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #StressTest #Terror #TransylvanianRecordings #UntoOthers

#americanmetal #crossoverthrash #crustpunk #exodus #feb25 #hardcore

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-03-07 · 12:35 UTC

Stress Test – Stress Test Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Just as much as any genre that’s been around for 40-plus years, hardcore is not a monolith, not by a long stretch. As an unleashing of rough-and-tumble punk energy with an extra flash of sharpness and swagger, its permutations can run the gamut of high-tempo riffage, ragged vocal attitude, and instrumental histrionics, all while wearing the speed-loaded label. With a classic thrash attack and a dash of grind spirit, Stress Test wears the genre like a tattered and patched denim vest befitted with snappy pull-off runs, d-beat anthemics, and short bursts fit for a moshing audience. No one needs to reinvent the urge to start up the pit to have a good time.

Featuring the rhythm section of Unto Others, with Brandon Hill assuming guitar and vocals instead of bass for Stress Test, Stress Test lands with a polish and focus not typical of acts whose songs frequent the sub-two minute range. Though that energy presents in some of the harder-hitting cuts that Unto Others has to offer, Stress Test shares little but members in the kind of drive that this debut holds. Hill and co.’s understanding of the studio helps Stress Test find smart and punchy pockets for deep bass propulsions (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior,” “Stress Test”), which go a long way in adding color to the snarl and shifty riffcraft that perpetuates its eighteen-minute run. And with colors that range from the early 90s death/grind of Napalm Death to the meatheaded aggro-crossover of Terror, Stress Test uses their experience to travel familiar paths with a skanking stride that sounds urgent.

Even though time-tested riffs and a cadence rooted in thrash history defines the simple appeal of Stress Test, its tracks flow with healthy variation to maintain a momentum that remains unbreakable and memorable. Embracing the smooth and sliding Exodus stomp with the brevity of Municipal Waste party bangers spells, on its own, an easy-to-enjoy, never-ending circle of punky abandon (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior”). But that p-word attitude, alongside the other important p’s of pummel and political edge, also serves as its hissing core, fueling snarky sample punches (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “God Sucks”) and unrelenting layered vocal assaults—a barking fervor and accompanying caveman-frenzied bellow—color the bouncing intensity as Stress Test progresses. Nothing that Stress Test rips from the sweat and beer-stained pages of thrash reads as new, but its in-and-out groove remains difficult to deny.

The choice to keep Stress Test svelte hinders how high it can fly, though. Stress Test knows their way around a whiplash tune and quick guitar hero cut-in to let accelerating tempos breathe (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “Gullible”). And while these bite-size ragers take up a small percentage of runtime in this already low-commitment affair, they also make for the most interesting guitar parts that Stress Test can muster. Of course, it would be hard to call longer cuts like mid-album “Suffer” and “Bastard Behavior” slouching, as their vocal bite and rhythmic overload ensure swinging arms and cracking necks from start to finish. However, in their self-similar nature, along with “Stress Test,” they allow fewer avenues for Stress Test to leave a stronger identifying mark.

Yet, as a feisty debut, Stress Test makes for a powerful, practiced statement. It doesn’t take a virtuoso to make music that is fast, loud, and angry. But, as Stress Test shows, steady (enough) hands and an ear looking for the right accents and accelerations will find a grace in wild tempos that mimics the fury of an untethered mind. With a varied pool of legacy influences, these Portland-based punks hold the potential to develop their low-frills sound in just about any way that they choose. And though Stress Test lacks in extreme choices that could hoist this fledgling act to a loftier status, Stress Test has taken aim at becoming a primary form of relief for those in need of boiled-over thrash madness.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transylvanian Recordings
Websites: stresstest.us | stresstestpdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/stresstestpdx
Releases Worldwide: February 28th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #Exodus #Feb25 #Hardcore #MunicipalWaste #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #StressTest #Terror #TransylvanianRecordings #UntoOthers

#americanmetal #crossoverthrash #crustpunk #exodus #feb25 #hardcore

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-03-07 · 12:35 UTC

Stress Test – Stress Test Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Just as much as any genre that’s been around for 40-plus years, hardcore is not a monolith, not by a long stretch. As an unleashing of rough-and-tumble punk energy with an extra flash of sharpness and swagger, its permutations can run the gamut of high-tempo riffage, ragged vocal attitude, and instrumental histrionics, all while wearing the speed-loaded label. With a classic thrash attack and a dash of grind spirit, Stress Test wears the genre like a tattered and patched denim vest befitted with snappy pull-off runs, d-beat anthemics, and short bursts fit for a moshing audience. No one needs to reinvent the urge to start up the pit to have a good time.

Featuring the rhythm section of Unto Others, with Brandon Hill assuming guitar and vocals instead of bass for Stress Test, Stress Test lands with a polish and focus not typical of acts whose songs frequent the sub-two minute range. Though that energy presents in some of the harder-hitting cuts that Unto Others has to offer, Stress Test shares little but members in the kind of drive that this debut holds. Hill and co.’s understanding of the studio helps Stress Test find smart and punchy pockets for deep bass propulsions (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior,” “Stress Test”), which go a long way in adding color to the snarl and shifty riffcraft that perpetuates its eighteen-minute run. And with colors that range from the early 90s death/grind of Napalm Death to the meatheaded aggro-crossover of Terror, Stress Test uses their experience to travel familiar paths with a skanking stride that sounds urgent.

Even though time-tested riffs and a cadence rooted in thrash history defines the simple appeal of Stress Test, its tracks flow with healthy variation to maintain a momentum that remains unbreakable and memorable. Embracing the smooth and sliding Exodus stomp with the brevity of Municipal Waste party bangers spells, on its own, an easy-to-enjoy, never-ending circle of punky abandon (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior”). But that p-word attitude, alongside the other important p’s of pummel and political edge, also serves as its hissing core, fueling snarky sample punches (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “God Sucks”) and unrelenting layered vocal assaults—a barking fervor and accompanying caveman-frenzied bellow—color the bouncing intensity as Stress Test progresses. Nothing that Stress Test rips from the sweat and beer-stained pages of thrash reads as new, but its in-and-out groove remains difficult to deny.

The choice to keep Stress Test svelte hinders how high it can fly, though. Stress Test knows their way around a whiplash tune and quick guitar hero cut-in to let accelerating tempos breathe (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “Gullible”). And while these bite-size ragers take up a small percentage of runtime in this already low-commitment affair, they also make for the most interesting guitar parts that Stress Test can muster. Of course, it would be hard to call longer cuts like mid-album “Suffer” and “Bastard Behavior” slouching, as their vocal bite and rhythmic overload ensure swinging arms and cracking necks from start to finish. However, in their self-similar nature, along with “Stress Test,” they allow fewer avenues for Stress Test to leave a stronger identifying mark.

Yet, as a feisty debut, Stress Test makes for a powerful, practiced statement. It doesn’t take a virtuoso to make music that is fast, loud, and angry. But, as Stress Test shows, steady (enough) hands and an ear looking for the right accents and accelerations will find a grace in wild tempos that mimics the fury of an untethered mind. With a varied pool of legacy influences, these Portland-based punks hold the potential to develop their low-frills sound in just about any way that they choose. And though Stress Test lacks in extreme choices that could hoist this fledgling act to a loftier status, Stress Test has taken aim at becoming a primary form of relief for those in need of boiled-over thrash madness.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transylvanian Recordings
Websites: stresstest.us | stresstestpdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/stresstestpdx
Releases Worldwide: February 28th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #Exodus #Feb25 #Hardcore #MunicipalWaste #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #StressTest #Terror #TransylvanianRecordings #UntoOthers

#untoothers #transylvanianrecordings #terror #stresstest #reviews #review

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-03-07 · 12:35 UTC

Stress Test – Stress Test Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Just as much as any genre that’s been around for 40-plus years, hardcore is not a monolith, not by a long stretch. As an unleashing of rough-and-tumble punk energy with an extra flash of sharpness and swagger, its permutations can run the gamut of high-tempo riffage, ragged vocal attitude, and instrumental histrionics, all while wearing the speed-loaded label. With a classic thrash attack and a dash of grind spirit, Stress Test wears the genre like a tattered and patched denim vest befitted with snappy pull-off runs, d-beat anthemics, and short bursts fit for a moshing audience. No one needs to reinvent the urge to start up the pit to have a good time.

Featuring the rhythm section of Unto Others, with Brandon Hill assuming guitar and vocals instead of bass for Stress Test, Stress Test lands with a polish and focus not typical of acts whose songs frequent the sub-two minute range. Though that energy presents in some of the harder-hitting cuts that Unto Others has to offer, Stress Test shares little but members in the kind of drive that this debut holds. Hill and co.’s understanding of the studio helps Stress Test find smart and punchy pockets for deep bass propulsions (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior,” “Stress Test”), which go a long way in adding color to the snarl and shifty riffcraft that perpetuates its eighteen-minute run. And with colors that range from the early 90s death/grind of Napalm Death to the meatheaded aggro-crossover of Terror, Stress Test uses their experience to travel familiar paths with a skanking stride that sounds urgent.

Even though time-tested riffs and a cadence rooted in thrash history defines the simple appeal of Stress Test, its tracks flow with healthy variation to maintain a momentum that remains unbreakable and memorable. Embracing the smooth and sliding Exodus stomp with the brevity of Municipal Waste party bangers spells, on its own, an easy-to-enjoy, never-ending circle of punky abandon (“Coward,” “Bastard Behavior”). But that p-word attitude, alongside the other important p’s of pummel and political edge, also serves as its hissing core, fueling snarky sample punches (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “God Sucks”) and unrelenting layered vocal assaults—a barking fervor and accompanying caveman-frenzied bellow—color the bouncing intensity as Stress Test progresses. Nothing that Stress Test rips from the sweat and beer-stained pages of thrash reads as new, but its in-and-out groove remains difficult to deny.

The choice to keep Stress Test svelte hinders how high it can fly, though. Stress Test knows their way around a whiplash tune and quick guitar hero cut-in to let accelerating tempos breathe (“Degrees of Violence,” “It Isn’t Real,” “Gullible”). And while these bite-size ragers take up a small percentage of runtime in this already low-commitment affair, they also make for the most interesting guitar parts that Stress Test can muster. Of course, it would be hard to call longer cuts like mid-album “Suffer” and “Bastard Behavior” slouching, as their vocal bite and rhythmic overload ensure swinging arms and cracking necks from start to finish. However, in their self-similar nature, along with “Stress Test,” they allow fewer avenues for Stress Test to leave a stronger identifying mark.

Yet, as a feisty debut, Stress Test makes for a powerful, practiced statement. It doesn’t take a virtuoso to make music that is fast, loud, and angry. But, as Stress Test shows, steady (enough) hands and an ear looking for the right accents and accelerations will find a grace in wild tempos that mimics the fury of an untethered mind. With a varied pool of legacy influences, these Portland-based punks hold the potential to develop their low-frills sound in just about any way that they choose. And though Stress Test lacks in extreme choices that could hoist this fledgling act to a loftier status, Stress Test has taken aim at becoming a primary form of relief for those in need of boiled-over thrash madness.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transylvanian Recordings
Websites: stresstest.us | stresstestpdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/stresstestpdx
Releases Worldwide: February 28th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #Exodus #Feb25 #Hardcore #MunicipalWaste #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #StressTest #Terror #TransylvanianRecordings #UntoOthers

#americanmetal #crossoverthrash #crustpunk #exodus #feb25 #hardcore

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2024-09-10 · 11:56 UTC

Hatchend – Summer of ’69 Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Nice.1 Or maybe you were thinking about the classic Bryan Adams song of the same name? Just what does a title like Summer of ’69 invoke? Maybe your mind raced to throwback stoner rock—nope, sorry. Perhaps the pop art cover took you to a bright, synth-coated land of big choruses and bigger hair? Still wrong, though. Hatchend instead circles about—cobbled of various Swedish extreme acts—waters of punk-loaded, gravel-voiced crossover thrash. And with a handful of riffs, one song structure, and an urge to throw arms, these crusty hooligans have birthed Summer of ’69. There was a pit at Woodstock, right?2

True to the classic ideals that the aged title represents, Hatchend delivers punky banger after punky banger with just about zero frills. In this lane of sonic fury, fueled by the likes of hardcore/crossover icons like Discharge and D.R.I., it can be hard to deliver a collection that iterates on the already basic structure that the style holds. Guitarist Elis Edin Markskog knows well from his main act, Birdflesh, that a little fluff and feather-ruffling can add a memorable edge to your act. Still, Hatchend seems to eschew most of that letting some mildly abrasive names apply surface wounds to the audience’s eyes (“Bloodthirsty Degenerate,” “A Fierce Scalpel Menace”). Other acts that find no charge in silly or serious messaging instead fly by the power of intensity of tone and delivery. And while Kalle Nimhagen’s (Deathening) death metal-leaning bark supplies a tactile mic spray, it also starts to beg the question of whether Hatchend really has more to offer than a tightly executed tune.

Hatchend kicks off every song of this eight-pack with all the right hooky hammers. When you’re a crossover act of the Municipal Waste variety, that first five to ten seconds of glory only have to hit hard enough to keep the fire burning. Hammering cymbal counts (“Shackled Humanity,” “Scape Goat”), full power riffage (“A Fierce Scalpel Menace,” “Feed This Emptiness”), and hyper-aggressive bass thumpage (“Who’s the Foe Today?”) all weight heavy in Summer’s arsenal of distorted charms. However, with each song being of a longer runtime, in the three to five-minute range, these mostly effective plays can’t carry enough energy into the verses and choruses and blast breaks that feel largely interchangeable between each track.

To make the menagerie of power chord shuffles even more of an indistinguishable hum, Hatchend heaves mix balance to the wayside in a bass-forward presentation that is beyond crusty. Despite the reputation that some of thrash metal’s bigger names may push, thick and leading bass rattling leads the charge in celebrated acts like Overkill or Nuclear Assault. And even in the hardcore lane that inspires this conversation more, Discharge and the like hold a respectable and flashy bass performance at the heart of their aggression—one that is heard and felt alongside all else. But Hatchend has chosen the path of the bulldozer with Dan Bengtsson’s (Pyramido, ex-Crowpath) volume-gorged bass running so wide it near negates the need for the rhythm guitar to even exist. Markskog is far from a slouch on the six, and with a real dialed ear, his riffs run bluesy, playful—and he gets a few moments to break through when there’s a little less on the board. But the choice to bury the guitars in a bassy grave robs Markskog’s performance of nuance.

Hatchend’s thirty-minute first impression struggles to break through the established lineage of thrashers, punks, and their predecessors. Overloud and under-expressed, the band’s sound lacks clarity. Summer of ’69 falls short of telling a compelling story, neither warm enough to be fanciful nor abrasive enough to embrace nihilism. It does, however, achieve the goal of being a burst of high-tempo mosh energy should you need it. With the pedigree of the manic minds who have brought forth plenty of extreme music before, I would expect no less. Unfortunately, I was also hopeful for more.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Selfmadegod Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/hatchendofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

#20 #2024 #Aug24 #Birdflesh #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #DBeat #DRI_ #Discharge #Hardcore #Hatchend #MunicipalWaste #NuclearAssault #Overkill #Review #Reviews #SummerOf69 #SwedishMetal #ThrashMetal

#aug24 #birdflesh #crossoverthrash #crustpunk #dbeat #dri_

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2024-09-10 · 11:56 UTC

Hatchend – Summer of ’69 Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Nice.1 Or maybe you were thinking about the classic Bryan Adams song of the same name? Just what does a title like Summer of ’69 invoke? Maybe your mind raced to throwback stoner rock—nope, sorry. Perhaps the pop art cover took you to a bright, synth-coated land of big choruses and bigger hair? Still wrong, though. Hatchend instead circles about—cobbled of various Swedish extreme acts—waters of punk-loaded, gravel-voiced crossover thrash. And with a handful of riffs, one song structure, and an urge to throw arms, these crusty hooligans have birthed Summer of ’69. There was a pit at Woodstock, right?2

True to the classic ideals that the aged title represents, Hatchend delivers punky banger after punky banger with just about zero frills. In this lane of sonic fury, fueled by the likes of hardcore/crossover icons like Discharge and D.R.I., it can be hard to deliver a collection that iterates on the already basic structure that the style holds. Guitarist Elis Edin Markskog knows well from his main act, Birdflesh, that a little fluff and feather-ruffling can add a memorable edge to your act. Still, Hatchend seems to eschew most of that letting some mildly abrasive names apply surface wounds to the audience’s eyes (“Bloodthirsty Degenerate,” “A Fierce Scalpel Menace”). Other acts that find no charge in silly or serious messaging instead fly by the power of intensity of tone and delivery. And while Kalle Nimhagen’s (Deathening) death metal-leaning bark supplies a tactile mic spray, it also starts to beg the question of whether Hatchend really has more to offer than a tightly executed tune.

Hatchend kicks off every song of this eight-pack with all the right hooky hammers. When you’re a crossover act of the Municipal Waste variety, that first five to ten seconds of glory only have to hit hard enough to keep the fire burning. Hammering cymbal counts (“Shackled Humanity,” “Scape Goat”), full power riffage (“A Fierce Scalpel Menace,” “Feed This Emptiness”), and hyper-aggressive bass thumpage (“Who’s the Foe Today?”) all weight heavy in Summer’s arsenal of distorted charms. However, with each song being of a longer runtime, in the three to five-minute range, these mostly effective plays can’t carry enough energy into the verses and choruses and blast breaks that feel largely interchangeable between each track.

To make the menagerie of power chord shuffles even more of an indistinguishable hum, Hatchend heaves mix balance to the wayside in a bass-forward presentation that is beyond crusty. Despite the reputation that some of thrash metal’s bigger names may push, thick and leading bass rattling leads the charge in celebrated acts like Overkill or Nuclear Assault. And even in the hardcore lane that inspires this conversation more, Discharge and the like hold a respectable and flashy bass performance at the heart of their aggression—one that is heard and felt alongside all else. But Hatchend has chosen the path of the bulldozer with Dan Bengtsson’s (Pyramido, ex-Crowpath) volume-gorged bass running so wide it near negates the need for the rhythm guitar to even exist. Markskog is far from a slouch on the six, and with a real dialed ear, his riffs run bluesy, playful—and he gets a few moments to break through when there’s a little less on the board. But the choice to bury the guitars in a bassy grave robs Markskog’s performance of nuance.

Hatchend’s thirty-minute first impression struggles to break through the established lineage of thrashers, punks, and their predecessors. Overloud and under-expressed, the band’s sound lacks clarity. Summer of ’69 falls short of telling a compelling story, neither warm enough to be fanciful nor abrasive enough to embrace nihilism. It does, however, achieve the goal of being a burst of high-tempo mosh energy should you need it. With the pedigree of the manic minds who have brought forth plenty of extreme music before, I would expect no less. Unfortunately, I was also hopeful for more.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Selfmadegod Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/hatchendofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

#20 #2024 #Aug24 #Birdflesh #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #DBeat #DRI_ #Discharge #Hardcore #Hatchend #MunicipalWaste #NuclearAssault #Overkill #Review #Reviews #SummerOf69 #SwedishMetal #ThrashMetal

#aug24 #birdflesh #crossoverthrash #crustpunk #dbeat #dri_

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2024-09-10 · 11:56 UTC

Hatchend – Summer of ’69 Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Nice.1 Or maybe you were thinking about the classic Bryan Adams song of the same name? Just what does a title like Summer of ’69 invoke? Maybe your mind raced to throwback stoner rock—nope, sorry. Perhaps the pop art cover took you to a bright, synth-coated land of big choruses and bigger hair? Still wrong, though. Hatchend instead circles about—cobbled of various Swedish extreme acts—waters of punk-loaded, gravel-voiced crossover thrash. And with a handful of riffs, one song structure, and an urge to throw arms, these crusty hooligans have birthed Summer of ’69. There was a pit at Woodstock, right?2

True to the classic ideals that the aged title represents, Hatchend delivers punky banger after punky banger with just about zero frills. In this lane of sonic fury, fueled by the likes of hardcore/crossover icons like Discharge and D.R.I., it can be hard to deliver a collection that iterates on the already basic structure that the style holds. Guitarist Elis Edin Markskog knows well from his main act, Birdflesh, that a little fluff and feather-ruffling can add a memorable edge to your act. Still, Hatchend seems to eschew most of that letting some mildly abrasive names apply surface wounds to the audience’s eyes (“Bloodthirsty Degenerate,” “A Fierce Scalpel Menace”). Other acts that find no charge in silly or serious messaging instead fly by the power of intensity of tone and delivery. And while Kalle Nimhagen’s (Deathening) death metal-leaning bark supplies a tactile mic spray, it also starts to beg the question of whether Hatchend really has more to offer than a tightly executed tune.

Hatchend kicks off every song of this eight-pack with all the right hooky hammers. When you’re a crossover act of the Municipal Waste variety, that first five to ten seconds of glory only have to hit hard enough to keep the fire burning. Hammering cymbal counts (“Shackled Humanity,” “Scape Goat”), full power riffage (“A Fierce Scalpel Menace,” “Feed This Emptiness”), and hyper-aggressive bass thumpage (“Who’s the Foe Today?”) all weight heavy in Summer’s arsenal of distorted charms. However, with each song being of a longer runtime, in the three to five-minute range, these mostly effective plays can’t carry enough energy into the verses and choruses and blast breaks that feel largely interchangeable between each track.

To make the menagerie of power chord shuffles even more of an indistinguishable hum, Hatchend heaves mix balance to the wayside in a bass-forward presentation that is beyond crusty. Despite the reputation that some of thrash metal’s bigger names may push, thick and leading bass rattling leads the charge in celebrated acts like Overkill or Nuclear Assault. And even in the hardcore lane that inspires this conversation more, Discharge and the like hold a respectable and flashy bass performance at the heart of their aggression—one that is heard and felt alongside all else. But Hatchend has chosen the path of the bulldozer with Dan Bengtsson’s (Pyramido, ex-Crowpath) volume-gorged bass running so wide it near negates the need for the rhythm guitar to even exist. Markskog is far from a slouch on the six, and with a real dialed ear, his riffs run bluesy, playful—and he gets a few moments to break through when there’s a little less on the board. But the choice to bury the guitars in a bassy grave robs Markskog’s performance of nuance.

Hatchend’s thirty-minute first impression struggles to break through the established lineage of thrashers, punks, and their predecessors. Overloud and under-expressed, the band’s sound lacks clarity. Summer of ’69 falls short of telling a compelling story, neither warm enough to be fanciful nor abrasive enough to embrace nihilism. It does, however, achieve the goal of being a burst of high-tempo mosh energy should you need it. With the pedigree of the manic minds who have brought forth plenty of extreme music before, I would expect no less. Unfortunately, I was also hopeful for more.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Selfmadegod Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/hatchendofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

#20 #2024 #Aug24 #Birdflesh #CrossoverThrash #CrustPunk #DBeat #DRI_ #Discharge #Hardcore #Hatchend #MunicipalWaste #NuclearAssault #Overkill #Review #Reviews #SummerOf69 #SwedishMetal #ThrashMetal

#thrashmetal #swedishmetal #summerof69 #reviews #review #overkill

Curb Jaw @[email protected] · 2024-09-03 · 16:56 UTC

Found an old photo! This may have been at Almost Home Cafe? Unsure.

#NYHC #bandphoto #liveMusic #crossoverThrash #metal #grooveMetal #deathMetal #hardcorePunk #hardcore #oldskoolhardcore

#oldskoolhardcore #hardcore #hardcorepunk #deathmetal #groovemetal #metal

Curb Jaw @[email protected] · 2024-09-03 · 16:56 UTC

Found an old photo! This may have been at Almost Home Cafe? Unsure.

#NYHC #bandphoto #liveMusic #crossoverThrash #metal #grooveMetal #deathMetal #hardcorePunk #hardcore #oldskoolhardcore

#oldskoolhardcore #hardcore #hardcorepunk #deathmetal #groovemetal #metal

Curb Jaw @[email protected] · 2024-09-03 · 16:56 UTC

Found an old photo! This may have been at Almost Home Cafe? Unsure.

#NYHC #bandphoto #liveMusic #crossoverThrash #metal #grooveMetal #deathMetal #hardcorePunk #hardcore #oldskoolhardcore

#nyhc #bandphoto #livemusic #crossoverthrash #metal #groovemetal

Curb Jaw @[email protected] · 2024-09-03 · 16:56 UTC

Found an old photo! This may have been at Almost Home Cafe? Unsure.

#NYHC #bandphoto #liveMusic #crossoverThrash #metal #grooveMetal #deathMetal #hardcorePunk #hardcore #oldskoolhardcore

#oldskoolhardcore #hardcore #hardcorepunk #deathmetal #groovemetal #metal

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2024-02-05 · 20:26 UTC

Dissimulator – Lower Form Resistance Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

“My name is Clyde, and I arrive from beyond with terrible news.”

I’ll never forget the Wednesday that I saw the future. Bag, coffee, keys, phone, wallet in tow, I stepped to the porch as I’d done countless times, but down the path I saw staring back at me what appeared to be a Russian tortoise. With its gaze intense as one who had seen a thousand lifetimes, a small pneumatic lift carried and affixed the anguished being at eye level. I could see the morning sun glistening against titanium stitches in a war-torn shell and claws attached to arms for defense. A holograph appeared in front of me—a memory. Clyde cried out in anguish as a limp and head-cracked Ferox lay splayed out, beside him a paperboard sleeve that read simply Dissimulator Lower Form Resistance. Without language my mind began ringing.

“He’s dead. Ferox—my best friend—is dead. You must warn him.”
“Of what?” my thoughts raced.
“Let me show you.”

A ticking cymbal turned my head to the left. I was transported into a wasteland of contorted, lifeless bodies. My breathing intensified as a sick ass riff coursed through me. My black slacks turned to faded and shredded jorts. I could feel the gentle breeze against my freshly exposed arms, the rest of my upper body covered only by a sleeveless, tattered tee that read Whiplash.

“The ‘Neural Hack’ is complete. Now you know. Ferox has passed into a Coma of Souls. This is his Punishment for Decadence. He once thought the riff was his home, but it came to be his Nemesis. Warn him. Save him. Study the riff. Learn its angles.”

Clyde left me and Lower Form Resistance continued on repeat.

I’d encountered ripping thrash before, much of which had sounded in some way like Dissimulator. However, many quirks accompany the crossover-leaning tempo shifts that threaten necks across Lower Form Resistance (“Warped,” “Hyperline Underflow”)—the words progressive and rhythmically frantic come to mind. Philippe Boucher (Beyond Creation, Chthe’ilist) commands his kit with domineering precision, with blackened blasts giving way to skanky pit rolls (“Automoil & Robotoil”) and cymbal strikes signaling massive propulsion (“Neural Hack,” “Lower Form Resistance”). And riding right alongside his wild and dynamic snare, Antoine Daigneault (Atramentus, Chthe’ilist) plunks noodling runs behind spacious chord strikes (“Warped”) and furious pops behind galloping kick lines (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe”). Moments pass where the maelstrom seems to be nearing a steady. But it’s never long before one of these two dastardly players intensify the platform on which the mighty riff leans, turning a snappy stumble into frenzied and tackling strut.

Yes, ultimately, Lower Form Resistance thrives on the frightening, contentious, riff. Claude Leduc (Atramentus, Chthe’ilist), knowing this tool’s power to be both over-leveraged and under-thought, never shies away from breaking character with a Voivod-ian bright chord clamor (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe,” “Lower Form Resistance) or squealing hot lead lick. Similarly, Leduc manipulates the mic with both digital, vocoder-like screenings1 and a hurdling, deathy growl that dips toe into forceful, blackened realms2 on a dime (“Automoil & Robotoil”). Even when the vocals stray into cleaner, prog-borrowing croons, it’s in accentuation of elated cries or slippery slow downs, never quite overstaying welcome. Possessing the ability to wrap lengthy banger in whammy echoes (“Outer Phase”) or escalate creeping scale weeping into hairpin-turn tumult (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe”), Dissimulator makes every movement feel fresh with campy thrash and sci-fi exuberance.

“Clyde, the secret is to maintain a careful bend at the knee, a thoughtful crouch, one arm swinging back, one arm swinging forward as you enter the Thrash Zone.”

As my eyes opened back to the world and this message made its way to present-day Ferox, a smile came to Clyde‘s weathered visage. The proud tortoise began to dissolve back into, presumably, a happier timeline. Dissimulator challenges the energy that technical death-thrash leaders Revocation and Cryptic Shift bring to the masses while also standing vibrantly beside the timelessness of the thrash titans to whom they’ve written this love letter. It’s understandable, then, that Lower Form Resistance hits with heavy-handed nostalgia, grips with tension-testing songwriting, and lands with enough momentum to sweep the floor from under your feet. If you’ve listened and persevered, hold tight to the thrash rager that now sits hot in your catalog. And if you haven’t? Consider this a warning and brace for impact.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin | Bandcamp 3
Website: facebook.com/dissimulatorofficial
Releases Worldwide: January 26th, 2024

#20BuckSpin #2024 #40 #CanadianMetal #ComaOfSouls #Coroner #CrossoverThrash #CrypticShift #DRI_ #DeathThrash #Dissimulator #Jan24 #Kreator #LowerFormResistance #Nemesis #Obliveon #PunishmentForDecadence #Review #Reviews #Revocation #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #ThrashZone #Voivod #Whiplash

#20buckspin #canadianmetal #comaofsouls #coroner #crossoverthrash #crypticshift