I’ve been a big Accept fan practically since I was an embryo, so when I heard about this new release, the band’s first studio album since 1996’s Predator, I was ecstatic. And then I found out who the new singer is… I’m sure that there are some who would argue that Wolf Hoffmann’s riffs are just as important to Accept as Udo “Bastard!!” Dirkschneider’s trademark vocals, and that might even be true. But no matter who else is left, without Udo this isn’t Accept. Okay, former TT Quick squealer Mark Tornillo does his best Udo imitation, which is passable most of the time (and probably the best of the guys-who-are-not-Udo Accept vocalists) despite him not being German, and musically this is well done, except for when it ventures too far away from Heavy Metal and into sappy Hard Rock territory. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that these guys are still making music and don’t have to work at Burger Reich or whatever, but I have a feeling (hope, actually) that this is going to be an Iron Maiden / Judas Priest kind of situation, where the band releases a couple albums with a scab singer before making a big deal of reuniting with the guy everyone actually wants to hear.

Imp Naz have long since mastered the art of flawless recording and sound, and Octagon certainly does not disappoint in that respect, nor in any other, really. The sound here is x-ray laser sharp, and the intensity of their Black Metal (Nuclear Metal? Or Goat Metal, perhaps?) onslaught is beyond belief. Sacrificed to that intensity, however, are the slower tempos that the band reintroduced on 2007’s Manifest, other than the very beginning of “Cult of the Goat,” and the ending of the last track, “Rhetoric Infernal.” And that could be what keeps this just short of perfection. Or possibly it’s that the album is only about 34 minutes long, and I want more. Perhaps it’s that I need a lyric sheet in front of me so that I can blaspheme along with Mika’s screams.

I’ve heard this band described as “Black Thrash,” but essentially the only Thrash here is in the minds of listeners who can’t get past the fact that these guys are also in the Hardcore band Kill Your Idols. Having not heard Black Anvil’s debut, 2008’s Time Insults the Mind, I was admittedly concerned that this would be Black Metalcore or Black Hardcore, whatever such abominations might sound like. That couldn’t be further from reality, as there are zero seconds of Hardcore influence to be found here, even in the vocals (which are generally amazing). These guys do a Von cover (“Veadtuck,” minus the short spoken word intro) for fuck’s sake! If you need your Black Metal to be as fast and raw as possible, then Triumvirate isn’t for you. However, if you prefer memorable songs of varying tempos, and excellent recording and production, then do your ears a favor and check this out.

This is a re-recording of Manowar’s debut album from 1982. I must wonder, if this sells, will they re-record them all? It seems like a dick move, but I’m not sure… This new recording sounds 666 times better than the original. But was it necessary? Would a remastering of the first recording have done the job? When I listen to Manowar it’s usually just my favorite tracks, very rarely an entire album, and never all of Battle Hymns. The first half of this album is mostly too Butt Rock for me to take seriously. Def Leppard and Quiet Riot were more Metal than the song “Death Tone,” which I think may contain cowbell. That said, this new 2010 recording/production certainly does sonically impress. Although there are a few good seconds here and there early on, and I suppose that I’m glad that the guys didn’t succumb to what I hope was an overwhelming urge to rewrite the past by reworking some of the music (the cringe-inducing lyrics are sadly a lost cause), it’s best to simply ignore everything until the song “Manowar” starts. Also try to not listen closely at the end of it when Eric Adams sings “Man-UH-war,” rather than “Man-OH-war,” which is insane. Oh, but those familiar with this album are likely wondering who does the narration in “Dark Avenger,” originally spoken so perfectly by the late Orson Welles. I was also curious about who could have the necessary boulders to do it justice. It’s Christopher fucking Lee! He could make reading the Elkhart phone book sound ominously cool, so of course he knocks this into outer space. After “Battle Hymn,” which closed out the original version of this album, as I wish it had also done here, there are now two live tracks, recorded in 1982. Unfortunately they’re “Fast Taker” and “Death Tone.” I can only guess that we got those instead of live recordings of “Manowar,” “Dark Avenger,” and “Battle Hymn” for the same reason that Katy Perry is somehow not deep-throating me as I type this. If you’ve ever thought, “Man, I’ve got to listen to Battle Hymns right now!” then this is probably a worthy “upgrade.” For the merely curious about this venerable band, I’d suggest starting with one of their plethora of live albums.

Clocking in at nearly three hours, this may be the very definition of “too much of a good thing.” The concert is actually spread across two DVDs, with, for reasons unknown to me, the entirety of the band’s 2001 Blackwater Park performed live (plus an interview) on disc one, and a more traditional live set comprised of one song each from the rest of Opeth’s albums, in chronological order no less (plus a documentary) on disc two. And then, at least with some versions, you also get just the audio on three CDs! The video (16:9 anamorphic widescreen, of course) and audio (5.1 Surround Sound) are absolutely flawless. I’d guess that this was recorded in HD, and Roadrunner will double-dip us with an eventual Blu-ray release at some point, the bastards. Still, this is an amazing document of exactly how impressive Opeth is live. The band’s complex blending of Death Metal with their heavy Prog influences seems as if it should be more difficult to pull off live, but appears effortless here, which is nothing short of stunning considering the endurance necessary for such a long set (though there is an intermission after the end of the Blackwater Park songs). In Live Concert could be the one time that a live album isn’t strictly for existing fans only.

This is Atheist’s first studio album since 1993’s Elements, and although I do miss Tony Choy’s twisted bass lines, Jupiter is every bit as complex and musically mind-numbing as I expected after such a long wait. And that’s the problem. This Thrashy, Jazzy Death Metal evokes later-era Death, both musically and vocally, although there is something of a Cronos undercurrent to main-man Kelly Shaefer’s raspy delivery. I know that Atheist has always been about writing music so complex that few other humans could actually play it, but consider what all is sacrificed on that altar. These guys don’t have to prove how talented they are - we know already! The best songs on here are oddly right in the middle of the tracklist: “Live and Live Again,” with it’s Deicide-inspired chorus riff and vocal pattern; and the cut that follows it, “Faux King Christ,” which somewhat reminds me of The Crown. Mixing in a few more riffs I can remember once the music stops and I’m no longer sitting here in awe of this impressive display of technical ability, and a somewhat tweaked production would really go a long way next time.

I really wanted to like this, the return of the aged masters of Death Metal. There are times when the music and vocals converge into something worthy of the legacy of Autopsy, but I’m sorry to say that it’s not often. For the most part, this is a mess, often with 666 vocal styles crammed on top of under-distorted guitars and too-sparse drumming. The production I almost get, but the songwriting and vocals I really don’t comprehend at all. Confusion and disappointment swirled through my mind on a continuous loop while listening to this EP, only to be replaced, upon its completion, with the realization that the best thing about The Tomb Within is the absolutely stunning cover art.

What the fuck is this?!? Oh, man… where to even start? Okay, many years ago, when Rob Halford finally came out as being gay, I think that most of us said, “Yeah, no kidding. So what?” and when right back to listening to Painkiller or whatever. (Although the revelation, such as it was, did put a potential new spin on some of Rob’s lyrics.) When he later came out as a Jesus freak, I was disappointed to say the least, but tried to ignore it, hoping that he’d regain his senses. Last year’s Xmas album, Winter Songs, was a sad reminder, although the CD did melt into an interestingly shaped blob. And now, much to my dismay, Halford has come out yet again - this time as a NASCAR fan. Yes, fellow defenders of the Metal faith, Rob Halford has apparently overdosed on Vagisil. I am sorry to report that the song “Made of Metal” is about the uneducated redneck national pastime of driving around in a circle, turning only to the left (while somehow keeping their politics always so far to the right). What I had hoped was a sick joke is all too nauseatingly real. There have been several reviews over these many years wherein I have cried out for a vocal eliminator, but I am not tempted to do that now, as this band is almost literally nothing without the once-and-hopefully-future-Metal-God’s voice. But even his vocals here are generally weak, almost as if he just didn’t give a shit most of the time. That may be my own wishful thinking clouding my ears, though, since I certainly hope that Mr. Halford would aspire to better than this rubbish. Perhaps if the music itself kicked any ass on its own, at least something from this album could be salvaged, but this sounds like the worst, lamest of the unused castoffs from the last 20 years of Halford’s musical career (discounting the foray into Industrial, or whatever the dementia known as Two was supposed to be), although the final track, “The Mower,” is passable, sounding shockingly different than the others.
For those still not convinced (and who could blame you? I didn’t want to believe it, either!), “Till the Day I Die” is a Country song. Which I suppose explains the fascination with NASCAR and Jesus.

The last time I even thought about this band was when I reviewed 2001’s My God, and the last time I cared was way back in ‘97 when the guys covered Lard’s “Forkboy” on their High album. I’d eventually find out, while interviewing Jello Biafra, that F&J’s bassist Jason Ward is the brother of Lard’s drummer, the late Jeff Ward (also Ministry). But on to The Cold. Am I actually going to recommend a Flotsam and Jetsam album in two-thousand-fucking-ten?!? As amazing as it seems to me, yes, I am. Admittedly, I missed the band’s 2005 opus, Dreams of Death (but I plan to rectify that apparent mistake as quickly as possible), so it may have also been a throwback to this decidedly old school Thrash. But I don’t remember F&J ever sounding as intense as the hardest moments here, or as flawless as the mellowest. Erik AK’s vocals, in the past often a problem for potential fans, occasionally still miss the mark, but never embarrass, and often impress with his emotional range from screaming hatred to the suicidal wail of “Better Off Dead,” which is one of the standout cuts on the album, along with the title track and “Blackened Eyes Staring.” Still, one would have to be able to tolerate vox more melodic than a roar or cackle to appreciate his efforts. There are some misses, though. The “tough-guy” lyrics of “K.Y.A.” (“I will kick your ass, you crying pussy”) seem to not belong to the same band that wrote the introspective rest of the album. It may be a backhanded compliment to say that The Cold is surprisingly good, but the truth is that I was shocked by how much I enjoyed this.