These guys still rock your fucking ass. Just because they’re intelligent and superior musicians doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to connect emotionally.
Millennial black metal, littered with blastbeats, monster keys/symphonics, demon growls’n’snarling, and all the ripping guitar a metalhead could ask for.
Like Judas Priest records, Accept albums were albums, and ya just played the whole thing, thinking some songs kinda bit, but others make paper routes bearable.
Technical, precise, educated, informed, but ultimately boring to anyone who doesn’t give a shit about how music works and just cares about how music sounds.
This mix of Southern-fried garage blues, sing-song female vox, and the get-down-on-yer-knees-and-worship-at-the-alter-of-fuzz moment takes ’em outta the box.