grimfist

If you’re under the impression that Norwegian black metal bands have no sense of humor whatsoever, I would like to direct you to both the name of this band and the album’s title. This either proves your case or wrecks it entirely. I’m leaning more towards the latter, because even Immortal (drummer Horgh is in Grimfist) would have to see the goofy humor in a title as campy as “Ghouls of Grandeur”. Of course, that’s the only laugh you’re gonna get from this one, because as soon you pop it into your favorite digital playback device, the party is over, Jack. Grimfist is a torrential blizzard of quadruple speed berserker black thrash metal straight from the frozen tundras of hell, a great satanic belching of splattering machine gun drums, flesh removing stun guitars, and demonic snarling, snapping, and screeching. The latter I could do actually do without, and I really wish black metal bands would take a cue from the brilliant marketing ploy of stoner cowboys Karma to Burn, who released a record in two editions- one with vocals, and one all instrumental- because I prefer my epileptic fits tortured cat free. That’s a minor quibble, however, because Grimfist’s relentless assault from all sides (made all the more violent by Satanic Super Producer Peter Tagtgren) is as jolting as an unexpected punch in the teeth only, you know, way more fun. Comparisons to both Slayer and (old, good) Metallica are not out of the question. Panicked fire fights in downtown Baghdad might make an equally good reference point, too. Of course, it takes a strong constitution to derive pleasure from this kind of unholy racket, and I just happen to be crazy enough to handle it. You might head for the hills, I dunno. Die-hard metal freaks are going to go crazy for this one, though, and with the recent news that frost metal champs Immortal have finally called it quits, I reckon these cats might just be the ones to fill their furry, be-spiked boots. Yeah, motherfucker, it gave me a headache. But it’s a good kinda throb.