Like the accessible Six Feet Under of artcore, the band birthing cogent, logical metal nuggets, like slowed-down Meshuggah with a rich, full-bodied recording.
The songs are so cool, this whole hillbilly Thin Lizzy thing making sense, if you heavy it up with the Sabbath to make mod stoner rock loud enough to be heard.
Funny how normative-rockist-duhish this is. Like the riff from Kiss’ “God of Thunder” or Deep Purple’s “Highway Star” hijacked by Rammstein and Jello-ized.
Their imagery and tones make these miniature skeletonal symphonies to the devil. Bits and pieces of marches and elegies glide through the compositions.
The writing is as funny as ever, the wisecracking announcer makes a welcome return, and the Deadzone hosts and main baddie, Gleeman Vox, get in plenty of gags.
If you don’t mind Stratovarius going rock ‘n’ rollsy, or Alexi’s hair metal covers, Edguy’s edging toward mainstream metal may come off as unselfconscious fun.