On a November night, partially lit by the full moon, and in the thrall of the enticing, diabolical surrounding forest, you find yourself joined by your closest friends to engage in debauched revelry with plenty of alcohol and other substances to enhance your experience.  As the chill of the freezing north wind creeps into your very bones, it is with primitive inspiration that you urge your accompanying friends to stoke the small fire around which you all are gathered to praise the lunar gods of the autumnal season.  An ominous howl cries out from the depths of the forest as the flames grow higher and higher, casting off molten bits of wood to swell in the burning of pure kindling.  It is with this spine-tingling shriek that the four of you realize you may not be alone, and in the bacchanalian spirit of the occasion, someone presses play on the boombox you've brought along thinking somehow music may save you when suddenly, the demonic spirits of ages past, long dwelling and holding court in the nearby woods, encircle your small group with a flash of radiant crimson and a piercing scream as they swirl around and around blended as one and then descend into the fire causing its flames to swiftly shoot up into the night sky.  No other supernatural emissary of the dark would supply its praises for your midnight gathering as such except for that which is conjured from the raw, hedonistic sounds of True Metal.

The preceding scene is one conjured from listening to the new album from VOMITOR, Australia's defining band of Blackened Thrash/Death Metal.  One is enveloped with that same eerie feeling of adolescence gained from staying out all night, partying, and listening to the most-vile, evil music one can get their hands on.  In the seven tracks that comprise this release, the listener is met with a performance that must be cranked loud while pounding beers and throwing darts at pictures of Lars and Corey Taylor.  This is true primal decadence from the outlaw continent of Australia where one can picture the band holding court with burning pentagrams and scorching candle wax dripping on the bare breasts of devoted female fans.  VOMITOR prove that Metal is still the devil's music, and in its true nature, it will remain so ad infinitum.

VOMITOR kick off "Pestilent Death" with "Tremolation," a track that successfully lays out their modus operandi.  What first grabs the listener is the sheer volume of the guitar which concretely contributes to the raw aesthetic with a sound that invokes a mixture of "Deathcrush"-era MAYHEM with DESTRUCTION's "Infernal Overkill" and "Welcome to Hell"-VENOM played on ten through an additional overdrive pedal.  The brutal fury of "Abracadabra" is conveyed by a riff that's on the very edge of being fast enough to numb the hands.  Nothing is as core to the band's ethos as straddling the edge of complete chaos with the sheer power of the performance.  While others may not share this view, the fifth track, "Tremendous Insane," contains a main riff that seems like a faster, dirtier take on the classic JUDAS PRIEST vibe, like a bloodier, blasphemous "Delivering the Goods."  Closing the album, "Hells Butcher" has a sludgy sliding riff that sets the track apart from the others and is especially crushing when juxtaposed at the end between a brutal riff characterized by distinct triplets a la classic SLAYER.

Speaking of SLAYER, this album sounds like a plausible successor to "Hell Awaits" in a mythical parallel universe.  The recording is spot-on as it delivers a rightful representation of the band's overall sound, particularly as interpreted from the perspective of the late-80s era of Blackened Thrash and proto-Death Metal.  While the bass is not loud enough for certain tastes (particularly for those of bass players themselves), it fits neatly into the desired genre.  The drums are as organic as it gets, with the ugly, brash clash of cymbals, and an onslaught of powered percussion that is succinctly performed, not merely defined by deceitful machinations of double bass tweaked to no end by effects and triggers in the studio.  The guitars, as mentioned, are the main focus, and their girth is developed through layers and layers of distortion and a super-tight picking pattern rivaling the greats of Thrash and Death Metal.  Vocally, of course, Death Dealer delivers gritty, though discernible singing similar to Cronos and Tom Araya, though not derivative.

VOMITOR clearly makes Metal not for commercial or even scene-derived acclaim, but to please themselves, staying true to the ethos that guided them from their inception in 1999.  Leather jackets, bullet belts, and plenty of fire are called for.  The album is a success in that each listen presents new ideas and riffs to become permanently lodged in the brain.  Decibel magazine is offering a free stream of this album on their web site for those curious.  As long as bands like VOMITOR wave the flag for aggressive, hateful Metal, the scene will stay true and free of pollutants like Nu-Metal and any genre with a "core" at the end.  It seems the music truly will save us.