Taut, butthole clenched funk underpinned thrash riffs via New York post-punk no wave despondency with a glimmer of hope. Carved grooves and bangs and is as danceable as it is moshable but with no stylistic compromise. Rounded out by some of Tommy Victor's best melodies and old-school solos this is not to be missed.
Dio era Sabbath layered on top of Iron Maiden at their best with a solo in every song. Chris Black, while no Ronnie is on tune and belts out this sad, Tolkein-esque epic with understated passion. Indeed this is an album where bombast and grandiosity is supplied via skillful arrangements and masterful attention to the metal canon. Neither pastiche nor nostalgia, this is metal tribute.
They just nail it. Clean out your hard disk, smart phone, CD and/or vinyl collection of all the old school Swedish death metal revivalists that have released material over the last twelve months. These guys just have it/do it. The atmosphere, the swagger, the evil and darkness. You might even need to through out one or two of your old Entombed records.