#num skull

Nasty Savage: Indulgence (1987)

Wanda: “... you think you’re an intellectual, don’t you, ape?” Otto: “Apes don't read philosophy.” Wanda: “Yes they do, Otto, they just don't understand it!”

By 1987 thrash metal had become a serious business, challenging hair metal for MTV airtime, magazine headlines, and overall commercial supremacy, while spawning its first, platinum-selling champions -- the so-called ‘Big Four’ -- in Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth, and Anthrax. 

Now, a serious business requires that one’s band be taken seriously, and in thrash, if not hair metal, this requirement included an ability to deliver more intellectual material (don’t laugh), quite unlike the style’s rude and rudimentary, (but hell-a-fun), early ‘80s blueprints.

But for every band that found a way to conquer this challenge there were dozens that could not; bands like Tampa, Florida’s Nasty Savage, who were following up their own, rude, rudimentary (but hell-a-fun) self-titled debut with ‘87′s rather pretentiously named sophomore set, Indulgence.

From its cover painting that resembled a poor man’s Salvador Dali, to the attempted brainy lyrics and technical virtuosity exhibited by “Divination,” “Hypnotic Trance,” and “Incursion Dementia,” it was obvious that Nasty Savage were working hard to act mature.

Well, maybe not ALL of Nasty Savage ...

Because their cartoonish frontman, pro-wrestling enthusiast ‘Nasty’ Ronnie Galetti, was still clowning around on stage and in music videos, as I was reminded by this amusing music video for the title track.

Moreover, Ronnie’s lyrics could still be puerile (“Stabbed in the Back” ) or provocative (“XXX”), and his vocal arsenal, which was limited to either a gravelly bark or a tuneless falsetto, made you appreciate King Diamond more than ever.

Even if one were willing to (as the album title suggests) indulge Mr. Galetti’s quirks (and I was -- all in good fun), Nasty Savage’s urgency to “get serious” hit the same snags as many other thrash bands, when their heightened songwriting intricacies sacrificed both hooks and immediacy, with the partial exception of aesthetic throwback, “Inferno.”

So, by the time Indulgence wound down with a cryptic instrumental named “?,” Nasty Savage’s career prospects were literally one big question mark, and even fewer metal fans would be able to take the band seriously after their third full-length, ‘89’s (wait for it ...) Penetration Point.

Sigh ...

US Death/Thrash!!

Insanity - Death After Death (1993)

Burnt Offering - Burnt Offering (1989)

Incubus - Serpent Temptation (1988)

Vacant Grave - Life or Death (1990)

Destructor: Maximum Destruction (1985)

Not to be confused with Germany’s Destruction, Cleveland, Ohio's Destructor saw their fledgling career curtailed by tragedy, leaving behind but one official studio LP in 1985’s cult-favorite Maximum Destruction. 

Formed in 1983 by Dave ‘Overkill’ Just (vocals/guitar), Pat ‘Rabid’ Wolowiecki (guitar), Paul ‘Warhead’ Habat (bass), and (best of all) Matt ‘Flammable’ Schindelar (drums), Destructor clearly enjoyed some Venom before being swept up by the first wave of thrash, led by Metallica, Slayer, et al.

And the gloriously crude Maximum Destruction pretty much epitomizes those innocent, formative times for extreme metal, since Destructor’s playing was sharp but not machine-like, their songwriting predictable but fervent, and their amplifiers were always turned up to eleven.

Prefaced by a chaotic jumble of anguished groans and clanging metal called “Prelude in Sledge Minor,” the seven-minute title track is a perfect case in point, with its overdriven trad-metal riffs, sub-thrash tempos, and '80s-appropriate lyrics about nuclear holocaust, alternately screamed and sung by Dave Overkill.

The thrashing really gets underway on pimple-faced moshers like “Destructor,” “Overdose” and “Take Command,” which do their very best to mimic the lessons imparted by founding thrash texts such as Metallica’s Kill ‘em All, Slayer’s Show No Mercy, and Anthrax’s Fistful of Metal. 

Somewhat less frantic, unintentionally hilarious numbers like “Pounding Evil,” “Iron Curtain” and the self-explanatory “Hot Wet Leather/Bondage” clearly weren’t going to win any literary prizes, but then, Destructor weren’t here to enlighten, they were here to ... DESTROY!

All of which makes Maximum Destruction one of those imperfect gems that only gets better with age -- though it impressed Island Records enough to sign Destructor, just as work began on a sophomore LP (tentatively titled Decibel Casualties) towards the end of 1987.

Unfortunately, on January 1st, 1988, Destructor’s dreams were crushed when Dave Holocaust was fatally stabbed outside the band’s rehearsal space by a drunken gatecrasher, sending surviving band members into an extended hiatus from which they only emerged in 1999 for sporadic touring and recording.

p.s. -- Some of these words were adapted from my Destructor bio and review of Maximum Destruction in the All-Music Guide.

Razor: Executioner’s Song (1985)

In a Loudwire list of the ‘Top Canadian Metal Bands,’ I wrote that Razor “helped put Canada on the global thrash metal map,” but I’ll be the first to admit that this was overstating things just a bit ...

Fact is, many of us diehard ‘80s thrash fans didn’t even get around to buying any of the band’s LPs until much later, since there were so many better options to choose from, between the Big Four’s seminal efforts and those of superior Canucks like Voivod, Exciter and Annihilator.

Formed in Guelph, Ontario, roughly one hundred kilometers due west of Toronto, Razor’s early lineup included frontman Stace McLaren (calling him a “singer” would be misleading), guitarist (and band founder) Dave Carlo, bassist Mike Campagnolo, and drummer Mike Embro.

That’s them sporting their finest (p)leathers and chains on the album’s back cover, having obviously taken notes from all of the usual suspects, both pre- (Motörhead, Maiden, Priest) and post-1983 (Metallica, Slayer, etc.) before unleashing ‘84’s Armed and Dangerous EP, so give them credit for at least beating Anthrax to that punch.

Razor’s full-length debut, Executioner’s Song, arrived in April of 1985 through world famous Viper Records (just kidding), and I’ve got no quarrel with manic sprints like “Take this Torch,” “Fast & Loud” and “Death Race,” which pack enough enthusiasm to overcome their wholly unoriginal formulas.

For the record, the similarly breathless “March of Death” is anything but a march, and I’m not sure the boys really understand the meaning of “Gatecrasher,” but for all I know this is what they called some kind of exotic juvenile delinquent pass-time in Guelph!

But as soon as Razor do step off the gas-pedal, things get decidedly iffy, with poorly rendered songs like “City of Damnation,” “Escape the Fire” and “Time Bomb” clumsily fumbling through trickier arrangements and complex time changes. 

And only when they slow down significantly for the trad-metal “plunder” (now I’m just getting stupid, blending “plod” and “thunder”) of “Distant Thunder,” then unleash the cheese for “Hot Metal,” do Razor finally reveal some melodic capabilities -- even their usually hapless vocalist.

Obviously, I’m having a little fun at Razor’s expense here (it’s my subliminal way of addressing their Manowar influences), but let me honestly say that there’s some naively genuine retro-thrashing entertainment to be had on Executioner’s Song.

At the same time, I can promise you that Razor’s relative anonymity at the height of thrash’s popularity wasn’t unwarranted (they’re simply not very good), and despite releasing many albums in years to come, the band would never really threaten to ascend from the minor leagues before breaking up in the early ‘90s.

Carnivore: Carnivore (1985)

Brooklyn, New York’s Carnivore unleashed their first of two LPs 35 years ago this month, thereby introducing the metal community to the larger-than-life personality -- and physical presence -- of Petrus Thomas Ratajczyk, better known to all as Peter Steele.

Of course, back in ‘85, Type O Negative’s epic brand of gothic metal was just a glimmer in Steele’s eye (if that), yet one could already glimpse many of the fascinating contradictions that would always characterize the 6’7” man-mountain’s musical output. 

On the one hand, Carnivore’s self-titled debut saw vocalist/bassist Steele, guitarist Keith Alexander, and drummer Louie Beateaux channeling all of their sonic might into incredibly brutal, intentionally raw thrashers like “Predator,” “Carnivore” and “Legion of Doom.”

On the other, there were unexpected ingredients, drawn from somewhere beyond the extreme metal world, such as the ice pick synthesizer stabs (doo wop from hell?) in “Armageddon” and the disorienting blend of falsetto vocals and Latin-flavored bongos on “God is Dead.”

But, maybe most prophetic of all -- at least for future Type O fans -- was the gentle, melodic, downright romantic interlude inserted halfway through the otherwise shockingly chauvinistic “Male Supremacy.”

Talk about contradictions!

Especially since all of the above fit into the album’s ‘Mad Max’-like, primal/modern, future/past concept, which saw Carnivore’s three musicians sporting barbaric skins and leathers, just like post-apocalyptic “Thermonuclear Warriors,” wantonly preying upon the helpless, un-mutated human survivors of “World Wars III and IV.”

And as tiresome and pervasive as end-of-the-world scenarios became in ‘80s metal, Carnivore’s intelligence and subtle humor instantly set this remarkable album apart, and it still bums me out that they chose to pivot towards a cleaner, hardcore-infused approach for 1987’s sophomore Retaliation.

In conclusion: it’s hard to believe that more than a decade has already passed since Steele departed this mortal coil, so this blog is naturally dedicated to his inextinguishable soul.

p.s. -- Some of these words mutated from my All-Music Guide review of Carnivore’s self-titled debut.

Rigor Mortis: Rigor Mortis (1988)

With their savage sound and barbarian image, Rigor Mortis were the very definition of independent thrash.

Yet they were somehow signed to major label Capitol, home to Megadeth, Exodus, W.A.S.P. and Iron Maiden -- at least for as long as it took for their eponymous LP to hit the streets, in 1988.

Then, Rigor Mortis were promptly dropped and returned to the heavy metal underground from whence they came; the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, to be exact, where guitarist Mike Scaccia, bassist Casey Orr and drummer Harden Harrison had first come together back in 1983.

Three years later, they welcomed vocalist and horror movie buff Bruce Corbitt: a Texan-born Paul Baloff, whose tuneless (but never toneless) bark was a perfect weapon for delivering lyrics about “Bodily Dismemberment,” “Wizard of Gore” and -- one of my favorites -- “Re-Animator.” (*)

But it was Scaccia who fueled Rigor Mortis’ engine with his razor riffs and blazing leads, presented here, naked, without overdubbed rhythm guitars (and bassist Orr fighting to be heard) to support his manic shredding across the likes of “Demons,” “Condemned to Hell,” etc.

I really can’t think of any other thrash band with the temerity to pull this off!

And I’d be remiss not to mention the blistering pace maintained almost throughout (final cut “Slow Death” finally gasps for breath), bolstering the entire band’s energy during mad moshers like “Shroud of Gloom” and album highlight “Die in Pain.”

All of which underscores the sheer unlikelihood that Rigor Mortis were ever allowed to set foot inside the hallowed Hollywood hallways of the Capitol Records Tower, despite the evidence provided by this absolutely classic example of raw, uncompromising thrash metal.

p.s. -- This blog is dedicated to the memories of Mike Scaccia, 1965-2012, and Bruce Corbitt, 1962-2019.

* If you’ve never seen it, Re-Animator is one of the all-time classic 1980s horror movies, watch the trailer here.