Let me get this straight from the get go. I have always been a fan of werewolves, as in lycanthropes. When it comes to folklore and myths there is something about a curse turning a man or woman into a hairy bloodthirsty beast that has always appealed to me. It is probably something to do with seeing those hapless Americans traipse across the Yorkshire (and if I am honest Jenny Agutter’s boobs – hey I was 12). Add in A Company of Wolves and The Howling and I was sold. The 90’s and Noughties metal scene was full of wafty gothic vampirism the hangover of which still lingers today. Six Feet Under offered some respite with the stand out track from their Haunted L.P. “Lycanthropy” but in all there has not been a lot of bone gnawing in the world of extremity – unless it was cannibalism.
A few years ago, 2019 to be precise some new loup-garou emerged from down under. Werewolves, if you are not aware of them yet, are a three piece made up of Sam Bean (vox/bass) and Matt Wilcock (guitar) both ex The Berzerker and David Haley (drums) ex Blood Duster, The Amenta. Truth be told all three names have sat on the team sheet of a tonne of great metal acts over the last two decades.
From the Cave to the Grave is the bands third outing following The Dead Are Screaming and What a Time to Be Alive, both of which I gave rave reviews.
It makes me howl with delight to tell you, gentle reader, that the band have plenty of huff and puff to blow your ear drums out on this latest opus.
If you have listened to their other releases, you will know that the trio spew out tight as fuck blackened death metal with a technical edge and a tongue firmly in cheek. For a band who write tracks entitled Self Help Book Burning and Nuclear Family Holocaust, Werewolves are well balanced in their approach. When music is a mix of genres, albeit in the same ball park as Black, Death and Tech are, it is easy to overstate one or the other and ruin the outcome. The same can be said for humour in metal. We all like a giggle but not everyone wants to chortle along ala Raised by Owls. (I love em by the way).
From the Cave to the Grave offers the perfect blend. Good old Aussie humour via the lyrics and clips between tracks and tight as a boguns moccasins musicality. Self Help Book Burning gallops out like the hirsute monster down the escalators in John Landis’ classic wolfie movie. Pure pummelling on all fours. We Are Better Than You is a blackened sideways look at elitism in metal with a signature riff that could come straight out of Copenhagen. This is the kind of ferocity that Deathcore kids have been trying to recreate for years. Give it up. The Hairy Ockers have taken it.
It is non-stop – the drumming picked me up and propelled me along like some kind of demonic treadmill. Talking of which, this is one of the few albums that I tested in multiple locations before reviewing. I have lifted weights, run, cycled and rowed whilst listening to this beast. Driving was the most difficult as it is a really bad influence on my right foot. Thank goodness for Harver of the Skulls which, although backed by double kicks, has an eerie Satyricon black metal groove to it. May have saved me a speed awareness course.
Oedipus Tyranny that follows it is a beatdown maelstrom. Chunkier than festival vomit after a weekend of cold veggie soup. This album channels Carcass, Gorerotted and The Berzerker of course along with a graveyard of Norse corpsepaint wearers for what has got to be the Death Metal album of the year for me. In fact, a contender for best album. Go get bitten.
(9/10 Matt Mason)
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