Lamb Of God - Sacrament
Right from the get-go effectual and eerie inhabitant riffing of Walk With Me In Hell - with its tried and true testament to speed metal, and hatred neck breaking blasts, beating on death's door; directly to the reign in blood junk key drumming and Sacred Reich laid to restless guitar grist, imbalanced by a hostile, vehement vocal entourage - America's #1 thrash metal pioneers prevail, purified with their most passionate sacrificial offering to date. Descending like a cynic who has been bleeding the blood of the scribe, into the depths of death, with more time to kill; again, triumphantly Lamb Of God rise from the ashes of the wake, while watching the pathetic poseurs' palaces burn.
This sacrament - this oath of allegiance - is technical and riddled with time changes. Drummer driven Chris Adler is phenomenal! He borrows brutally and meticulously from Dave Lombardo, Paul Bostaph, and Gene Hoglan; then expands their subtle intricacies, to create his own manic method. He is definitely the best American drumming flaying skins today. Guitar temerity team Willie Adler, brother to Chris, and metal mastermind Mark Morton, mix blues laden hooks with undulating guitar gripping anthems to create a paradigm and poise, unmatched. Even Chuck Shuldiner would bow in deference, with diligence. This requiem resounds when Randall blithely blears with his gut wrenching vocal vitriol.
Overbearing, yet prolific producer, the proto metal - Machine, made Randall really work to achieve a sound unlike any he had previously attained. He even compelled him to run around the block to the point of exhaustion, just to return to the studio and nail that last take. Randall reaps the Phil Anselmo aggressive antics while laying low like Chuck Billy; still his unique foot to the throat threnody vocals are quite discernible, and seldom forgotten. This line-up would not be complete with out the poker faced snare of bucolic bassist - Mr. John Campbell, and his cunning wit.
For your malice and ruin - each song on this sacred sacrament speaks for itself; showing identity and integrity with probing poignant personality. This time evading any political intrigue, or anti-war protest; the subject matter is more personal and appropriate. Mark Morton is a lyrical lycan, sinking his teeth into the heart of the matter in such delectible diatribes. Randy realizes this anguish and upset, and the audience is drawn right into the pit and pendulum. Cuts like Redneck with it's validation video pan; Black Sun, or Time To Kill create constant apathy; whereas, Forgotten (Lost Angels) conveys their contempt for L.A.; no doubt, eluding to the club who would not book them, solely based on their former namesake - Burn The Priest. Songs like these and other primal pieces evoke such bile and bitter taste.
It took several revolutions for me to engage in this conflict and struggle. Once I tuned everything out and absorbed the melodies, the music became etched into my gut, and seared into my skull. After reading the lyrics, I was initiated into the last rites and holy disorder. The limited edition CD also comes with a three song live bonus disc; but it is also accompanied by a bonus 90 minute DVD deliniating the rigour and wrangle the band underwent in the studio to create such an act of contrition and communion. They were baptised by the blistering blade of belief.
There are also sketches for each members side-projects and personal hobbies. Mark likes to drag race and win; John is a competitive card player; Willie is a wonderful cook and focuses on his wife and son; Randy loves chili cook-offs; and Chris' concern is the band and his drumming destiny. There is also the aforementioned video for Redneck or a studio montage rendition - your choice. Metalheads, it's time to shatter the hourglass and discover the sacred lamb's offering; for now you've got something to strive for!