If you always loved Priest, but thought their production lacked the over-the-topness available to hacks with half the songwriting talent, here’s Primal Fear.
The singer has the tendency to sing “Mmm” a lot, like he’s smelling Mom’s brownies or thinking the groupy chicks’ll find him all emotive and hot, but I nitpick.
It came as no small surprise to slip Phoenix, AZ’s N17 Trust No One into my CD player and find myself rewarded with an impeccable impersonation of Ministry.
An orgy of perversion, luxuriating in decadence, wine spilled on stained silk bedsheets, camping it up, turning every tear into a tsunami of overblown emotion.