My first exposure to seeing thrash metal live in the flesh was in a basement at a Virginia "frat" house.  I use the term "frat" loosely, because even though the house had a series of Greek letters in front and a bunch of cheap-ass teenagers living in the rundown structure, most of those in the house were townies or attending school part time.  Like metal itself, it was a hospice for the ne'er do-wells of the world, and on weekends they would invite other sorrowful souls to the basement to enjoy the rough-hewned edges of rock and roll.  The band YER MOM was a rag-tag collection of Appalachian boys who wore their influences on their rolled-up sleeves, and their signature song "Buttraped By Life" would have the entire basement filled with the sweaty bodies and swinging arms of a hundred pissed off, confused young men and women (mostly men, to be honest). Hearing DEGRAVE's third album "Volume" brings me back to those days.  It's a confident, fun blast into the thrashened past of yesteryear from four young guys from Jefferson City, Missouri, covered in the slimy, woke-free sheen of millenialism.

The album's opener and closer are both bold, riff-heavy metal instrumentals that showcases the bands ear for a hook. "13" opens the album with a short, churlish two-minute mid-tempo groove, while closer "L'Appel du Vide" is a multi-colored look into the void.  The band has a knack for finding a hook and running with it, and cramming four or five of these into one song. Guitarists Dylan Volmert and Clyde Daniels both know their strengths, and while there's not a lot of dual guitar harmonic histrionics, their leads are often tasteful and groovy, and having each guitar panned left and right gives the album a classic thrash feel.  This, coupled with their allegiance to good old Southern-fried metal a la PANTERA, means they never move to far from the streets of Jefferson City.  Album highlights "Raised on Hate and Hooch" and "Billy's Way" are prime examples of how their geography is firmly entrenched in their massive riffage. The former starts with a nasty power metal groove as Volmert spits and growls his way through the motherfucker I was raised on hate and hooch line before a Southern-soaked MASTODON solo. "Billy's Way" tells the story of a liquor store robbery gone wrong.  It's another riff-heavy, Ozarkian exploration of American nastiness.  Both songs are drenched in a flannel-covered '90s grit, like TAD on opioids and social media.

Buried within the riffage is a band that likes to tell stories.  A couple of songs feature some ominous spoken word stuff before they blast off into familiar territory. "The Banshee" includes death growls over gunshot-like riffs. "Badge and Gun," an appropriate exploration of the futility of police enforcement, particularly in a state that was front and center of America's struggle with the black and blue, features some pig-squealing guitars over some straight-up thrash. Jordan Roedel's bass throughout pummels and shakes, sitting firmly in the middle of the mix, and Caleb Bethel pounds his drums as if he's trying to extract blood from the heads and cymbals.

I'd like to think there's been more than one time the band piled up the van and drove down to Columbia to play in the basement or living room of some rundown University of Missouri "frat house."  I can see the fists in the air, the flying red solo cups of beer, and the band leading the crowd into a chant of overloooord!. To think that thrash has lived a life of over forty long years is humbling at best, and a testament to what young kids will always need: something to rail against and a reason to smash shit up. DEGRAVE's "Volume" is a seriously heavy piece of thrash metal that should see them getting some much deserved recognition.  In the meantime, just soak yourself in the hate and hooch, and know that America will never have a shortage of things to get pissed about.