Immortal drag black metal out of the frozen wilderness of tinny production, ramshackle performances, and unreadable logos into the big time with this massive bedeviled fuck fest of triple- speed thrash metal flail and forceful vocals that are less cookie monster growl than Yeti howl. Obsessed more with freezing to death than roasting in the black tar pits of Hell, everything about this band elevates the genre to dizzying new heights- just take a look at that masterful corpsepaint- and Immortal may be the first black metal rock and roll band since Venom. Mammoth production beefs up the riffage until it's practically oozing black blood out of the speakers, and the songs all manage to maintain an epic, Viking berserker intensity without collapsing in on itself with bloated keyboard washes or spooky girl-ghost wailings. Blast beats trade punches with whiplash thrash n' roll, and sometimes it all slows down to an ominous, almost industrialized stutter, like an escaped ice giant dragging it's chains behind it, knocking down city blocks as it goes. To be honest, I'm not even sure that Immortal are black metal, not anymore, anyway. They're not thrash or death or power metal either, in fact maybe they're beyond metal completely. Maybe they're just an amazingly fierce rock and roll band wrapped in barbed wire and set adrift in the frozen Arctic waters. Whatever you want to call them, "Sons of Northern Darkness" is more than just another heavy rock album, it's as ground breaking and bold as Nirvana's 'Nevermind', only with better outfits and no pussy indie rock inclinations. Listen to that Goddamn roar, baby. It's the sound of dark new warriors carving out a legacy of brutality that will, most definitely, be making a stop in your town soon.