They’re supposed to be funny & wild, and push the limitations of the members’ main gigs. But this is just more mediocre Ministry, and that’s Ministry’s job.
Quality ka-chunk death grrr with, well, pussy singing. Nice melodies, the guy can hit the notes, but there’s still an emoish whine to the meaningfulness of it.
Four records deep, two on Sub Pop (during a brief moment when they released real rock records again), but like D-Generation, they simply don’t blow me away.
They craft good songs, many of which sound dated, some of which transcend style and can simply be heard as well-written songs. Timeless, catchy, and meaningful.
It opens with a barnburning polka, and if it doesn’t get you grinning, kicking up your heels and spilling your beer with wild abandon, check for a pulse.
Ninth studio album from the Bay Area thrash pioneers. First release with guitarist Alex Skolnick since 1992, first with bassist Greg Christian since 1994.
Seething with hate, the guitars are trebly and loud, like Darkthrone and early Norwegian black metal, and the reverbed and distant vocals are snakespit vomit.
16 cuts of shredding metal. It has names ya know and names ya don’t, plus little photos, a blurb, a web link, and “courtesy of” credits if not on Earache.
The songcraft here is stellar and varied. What hair band would take time away from photo shoots to cover “Dream a Little Dream” in a way Queen would approve of?