SKULL578

EVIL ARMY, I, Commander  (2013, Hells Headbangers)

The skull:
We’ve seen this motif before, the guns, the helmet, the sneering grin of a skull so maniacal that no rubbery flesh could corral the madness within. War, violence, insanity…we’ve seen all that before too. The simplistic stencil-logo and bored-in-study-hall drawing for the album cover. Been there, done that. Is there nothing left for a skull to do that a skull hasn’t already done zillions of times before? We have to wonder if the music is going to illuminate us in a way this cover definitely does not. We have our doubts.

The music:
This is a three-song 7″ release, each song borrowing heavily from Persecution Mania-era Sodom. Tight, rabid riffs, dive-bombing solos, artillery-fire drumming, and caustic vocals that spit fire just like Tom Angelripper. It’s adequate, and the part of me that totally loves Persecution Mania has to give this a pass. The record is well-rounded, the playing full of passion and ability, the writing better than most playing at this game. Shades of Tankard and At War are heard too, but really, it’s 99% worship of a very specific era of a very specific band. It’s a cool, compact eight minutes and 17 seconds. By third song “I Must Destroy You,” you kind of have to laugh to yourself at the ridiculously single-minded purpose here, like, “This is all you’ve got?” — even if what they’ve got is pretty good. I’d be real surprised if each of the members of Tennessee’s Evil Army didn’t have at least three different iterations of Persecution Mania in their collection.
— Friar Wagner

SKULL422

BUTTOCKS, …War Kills… (1990, demo)

The skull:
As a young friar, I spent most of my days in the priory studying the sacred texts of our order, contemplating the mysteries of the Skull, producing illuminated copies of Metal Forces back issues, and so forth. The usual duties of an ascetic. But on our day of rest (which is Wednesday according to the calendar most of you would be familiar with) we were encouraged to explore the surrounding forests and meadows and commune with our inner skull. One day, on a walk that took me many miles from the cloistered walls of my home, I encountered a stiff wind from the north, which soon brought a driving rain upon me. I sought refuge in a small copse of trees and huddled in my cowl beside a large rock, which afforded some cover from the elements. In the sheltered lee of this rock, I found the remains of a fire, and amid the ashes, soot, and charcoal, I saw a glimmer of white. I reached into the pile, and withdrew the white thing, which was the singed but mostly intact jacket of a cassette tape, the identity of which I assume now is obvious. As I waited for the storm to pass, I stared at this unlikely bit of detritus and pondered the significance of its title. I marveled at the chain of events that led me to this place and the discovery of a Big Dumb Skull heretofore unknown to my order. But above all, I giggled like a schoolboy because some band called themselves Buttocks and thought anyone would take their social commentary seriously.

The music:
Sadly, I was not able to find any songs from this demo, and had to content myself with a spin of their 1991 demo, Urcemurcel Turkus. It’s simple but slightly off-kilter Norwegian death metal, not dissimilar to the first Cadaver album, minus the tuba. Really, nothing special, which is sad, because I had such high hopes for Buttocks. There are a LOT of songs on this demo, though; far more than on their later recordings, and this makes me wonder if maybe they didn’t start as a Napalm Death style grind band. I may never know, but I take comfort in the fact that this ridiculous band existed at all.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL388

INDESTRUCTIBLE NOISE COMMAND, Heaven Sent…Hellbound  (2011, Rising)

The skull:
There’s something hilariously tacky here, and it’s not the fanged and helmeted skull. It’s not the generic Photoshoppery, and it’s not the fact we’re getting yet another blah-brown album cover (enough already!). It’s those little lightning streaks coming out of the bullhorns, bullhorns that are apparently commanding us with indestructible noise. Thank god for those little lightning bolts or we would have never been able to comprehend the high concept here. They tossed in an upside down star and a tattered flag too. You look at this cover and pretty much know the music’s going to stink. You’d think after a 22-year absence they’d have something more to say instead of rolling out all the usual overdone metal cliches, but then look at what band we’re dealing with here…

The music:
Was never a big fan of these guys back in the day. Their third-rate thrash couldn’t really compete with the many better bands doing pretty much the same thing. They played in a Testament/Metallica sort of vein: upbeat and tight, aggressive but controlled, ripped jeans, white high tops…you know the story. They disappeared without much fanfare after 1988’s The Visitor and reformed in 2010, also without much fanfare. They blessed us with this clumsily-titled full-length album a year later, and it’s horrible. Now they sound like Pantera meets Machine Head, and even if you like Pantera and Machine Head, chances are you won’t accept this poor facsimile. They really should have known better and tried to appeal to the Municipal Waste crowd instead. It was extremely difficult to sit through this overly-long album (nearly 60 minutes), especially with that dog barking like Phil Anselmo the whole time. Apparently this band is only destined to follow in the footsteps of their heroes (and far behind), be it Bay Area thrash then or modern aggro toughguy metal now.
— Friar Wagner

SKULL384

P.L.F., Pulverizing Lethal Force  (2008, Obsessed With Wickedness)

The skull:
Here he is, the Skullmaster General, complete with all-seeing third eye and spike-laden battle helmet! He comes flanked by his rat minions, who will eat anything Skullmaster General does not. The ulna bones (or maybe femur bones) are apparently the remains of a recent meal. At least, that’s what I’m going with. It’s unclear whether they belong to the skull, and they can’t possibly be from the rats. And maybe those rats are actually opossums, judging from their snout. Holy shit, with a scene like this and these sorts of bad-ass characters roaming the nether-regions, anything’s possible!

The music:
17 songs in 20 minutes, woo-hoo! Originally released with a non-skull cover, Obsessed With Wickedness put things to rights and reissued it a year later with this album cover. So, are P.L.F. actually a pulverizing lethal force? They’re definitely pulverizing. “Lethal” is probably open to interpretation, but I’ll give them lethal. This is some incredibly ferocious and energetic death-leaning grindcore. A prerequisite for this sort of thing is total power and, at its very foundations, P.L.F. deliver on “lethal.” A “force” would be like a Napalm Death or even a Nasum, so I’m not sure grind clones like these guys would qualify as a “force.” But that’s really reading way too much into music that’s supposed to be of-the-moment. Here today, gone tomorrow, just like most halfway decent grindcore bands. I’ll admit that P.L.F., while not exactly a force, are just a notch above “halfway decent.” If you dig this stuff, you’ll love it. I’ll stick with Terrorizer and prime-era Napalm Death, because my attention span for this kind of thing is very short beyond the godfathers of the style. Funny little note: Before this album the P.L.F. stood for the apparently ironic Pretty Little Flower. Taking a page out of the Summertime Daisies book, eh guys?
— Friar Wagner

SKULL246

GODZILLA, II  (1990, Metal Enterprises)

The skull:
Simple, effective, and totally misleading in that you believe you’re in for a rollicking bout of epic metal action. The skull is hungry for battle and has got the sweet helmet to prove it. “Give me war!” he cries. You’re thinking “Manilla Road…Brocas Helm…Ostrogoth…Omen” just about now right?

Wrong.

The music:
Holy mother of god, this is horrendous. Utterly fascinating, but horrendous. So what do we have here? There’s opener “Ingoz,” a bit of raw sludge that acts as a thematic intro to a way-too-long, unintentionally-dissonant, super-retarded cover of “Helter Skelter.” “Ass of the Prophet” is as thick and ugly as ashtray molasses, and it incorporates harmonica to add insult to injury. It also features some completely clueless vocals. A slow blues, basically. Are you braindead yet? Then there’s the utterly horrifying reggae/’80s pop car-wreck of “I Followed the Zombie,” rendering the label name “Metal Enterprises” an egregious case of false advertising. There’s more…so much more…and no real reason to report any further on it, although I did my best to endure this album a couple times in one sitting. I’ve heard a lot of shitty albums, and this one is at the top of that list (most Metal Enterprises albums are fighting for space on that Top 10, and winning. Like Killer Fox). I can’t think of a more directionless, pointless, inept and incompetent album. I doubt if even the most fanatical collector of traditional heavy metal obscurities would find this an acceptable addition to their collection. This really is more for enthusiasts of remarkably bad music, who will enjoy throwing away 45 minutes of their life with this circle of crud. This almost makes me wish I was listening to yet another skull-friendly Pantera clone. Godzilla’s II is one of those records that has a far more interesting and entertaining history behind it than what the actual music offers. (Can you imagine what Godzilla I is like?) For a highly informative view into this label and their dubious releases, I recommend you go here.
— Friar Wagner

SKULL200

MORDARK, Fuerza de la Oscuridad  (2000, self-released)

The skull:
This guy is ready for war. His eyes are piercing and alight with murderous intent. His grin is not one of happiness but of maniacal bloodthirst. (It’s a mouthful of choppers that any dentist would give their lateral incisor to work on.) How can we tell this skull’s up to no good? That ancient battle helmet! We’ll assume the horns are attached to the headpiece, because if they were actually part of his skull, it would be impossible to get that war-cap on his head.

The music:
I don’t know if this was intentional or not, but these Spaniards sound a lot like Tiamat in the Astral Sleep era. Descriptions of them as “black heavy metal” are accurate. The stuff is as angular and poorly recorded as Tiamat’s material from that era, but lacks all the eccentricity and ingenuity. Mordark gets a little more “true metal” sounding at times (the middle of “Almas Negras,” which is like early Slayer meets Iron Maiden, but played very very poorly). This album is generally too clunky and derivative for its own good, but they give it the old college try. They’re onto something, I’m just not sure it would be all that interesting even if it was better written and performed. This recording is from the earlier part of their career, and apparently they’re still around so let’s assume they’ve improved by now…
— Friar Wagner