Vancouver BC’s, Terrifier marked 2011 with their thrash debut Destroyers of the Faith. They may have borrowed a few words from Priest but they adapted their sound according to the rules and ramming speed pits of early West Coast thrash. They’ve sounded their war cry grabbing handfuls straight from the white hot molten furnace, hurling fistfuls of liquid metal lava to any and all non-believers and those not living the metal code.
Pain reliever sales and ER visits could go up when they come to your town. Bringing shredding guitar speed, thunderous screaming racket and a dedication to the sound and lifestyle of the old guard thrash legends. It’s a new generation of sleeveless denim and liquid venom and they seem to be having a blast beating the unholy hell out of their instruments.
They’ve taken the sound that started the scene, modernizing it to sound retro but current. Kind of like having the Walkman next to the MP3 player when VHS was the Blu-Ray of its day. Adrenaline and aggression fuels their sound as assorted proofed spirits fill the shot glasses.
Weapons of Thrash Destruction contain nine tracks of everything a growing metal head needs and the decibels a thrash veteran would expect. They’re tackling chemical warfare, nuclear obliteration, the zombie apocalypse and drinking till you resemble a mindless staggering walker. The music’s so fast and heavy you might rip yourself in half not knowing which way to move first.
“Reanimator” might be what a corpse sprinting a marathon would sound like, guitars tearing through opening riffs with a relentless rabid snarl, like decayed bones and muscles separating at will. It’s a sophomore opening mission statement, speed punch to the face. The pit could be worn out after the first song.
“Deceiver” slows down slightly, still using the speakers like punching bags for your ears as guitars pile drive riffs and solos into your head, neck first.
“Nuclear Demolisher” sings the sweet intricate tune of plunder and destruction. “Skitzoid Embolism” pummels and pounds shaking vertebrae with mean intent and psychotic spirited precession.
“Drunk as Fuck” paying dues to live the life as guitars shred the blues away. The bottles clash and smash with a good time to be had every day. “Bestial Tyranny” stomps on living and dead rotting flesh party style.
Photo: Derek Carr