Review by Jeger on December 6, 2024.

The Bronx, New York's own Demolition Hammer - founded in 1987 - are a gem of an extreme metal band whose influence is still felt today, despite the fact that they released a mere three LPs from 1990 - 1994. They've been active again since 2016, and have played some one-off shows here and there since their reformation, much to the enthrallment of diehard extreme metal fans whose gluttony for punishment is insatiable. Demolition Hammer's bludgeoning synergy of death and thrash metal is something like if "Pleasure to Kill" era Kreator and "The Bleeding" era Cannibal Corpse met in some seedy bar, fucked in the backseat of an old Duster and nine months later shat from the womb the most abominable creation imaginable. In 1992, Demolition Hammer unleashed their sophomore effort, Epidemic Of Violence via Century Media.

Mud, blood, beer and broken bones are what DH are divvying out here. Metal for the circle pit and for cocaine-induced psychosis. Total fucking destruction as incurred upon you with cranium splintering grooves, face pulverizing breakdowns and ass blistering leads in tracks like "Human Dissection" and "Pyroclastic Annihilation" that incite violence and animosity on a primal level. The former hits like Exhorder on steroids, while the latter drives forward chug after thrash-laden chug and jackhammer beats like a frenzied gang beating where you're left battered, bloodied and praying for death to end the pain of the blunt-force trauma. A group of primitive caveman miscreants feeding on adrenaline and operating on nothing more than sheer bloodlust are Demolition Hammer, and extreme metal has rarely sounded this good since the release of this monumental record.  Fuck head-banging; this is music for basement torture and dismembered corpses in garbage bags. Nothing technical or flashy, just speed and brutality like a frantic stabbing or a curb stomp at shotgun point.

The titular track - a late '80's styled thrash attack: pure aggression, unbridled attitude and relentless speed. True thrash metal like a Paul Baloff cream dream but compounded by nasty death metal gutturals and down-tuned distortion. This is the shit that kids were ripping bong loads of Mexican brick weed to as they lit stuff on fire; the stuff of parental nightmares during the prime years of death metal infamy. Denim and leather, chainsaws and Louisville Sluggers, vandalism and riots… An epidemic of youth-crazed violence to terrify entire communities, and it only gets more intense as each second of runtime unfolds.

A blood-soaked masterpiece! A diamond in the rough and a testament to the never-since-matched extreme metal climate of the early '90's. Bands like Demolition Hammer and Morbid Saint were the under-sung heroes of '90's extreme metal in the United States - overshadowed by bands like Pantera and Slayer, yet highly influential in their own right. A cult following is more dignified than a mainstream one, and it's bands like our boys here that keep the true spirit of extreme metal thriving. Put on Epidemic Of Violence, chug a tall boy and break something in the name of the good old days. Here's to random acts of terror! Here's to Demolition Hammer…

Rating: 10 out of 10

Review by Felix on November 7, 2019.

...and the same goes for the band's name and the artwork... We go back to the year 1992. Thrash metal seems to be dead (fortunately, today we know that it was only in a comatose state). "When the Storm Comes Down", "Renewal", "The American Way" and "In Search of Sanity" - these words are already engraved on its tombstone. However, there is a mighty force that strikes back. Its name is Demolition Hammer.

I have seen the exuberant reviews on this side and I broadly agree. Nevertheless, I never had the thought to build an altar for Epidemic of Violence, because I don't think that each and every song is a killer. In contrast to the vast majority of other albums, the second half blows your mind, while the first half sounds good without reaching the top level. The most exciting part of the pathologically brute album is kicked off by the title track, which is placed on the seventh position. The last three songs lend the album a touch of immortality. They bundle the strengths of the combo in a fascinating manner.

The title track is driven by irresistible leads and Steve Reynolds, lead singer and bassist, sounds angry and absolutely pissed off. Okay, his angry voice is an important feature right from the beginning of Epidemic of Violence, but these details don't matter. The seventh track with its sudden tempo changes shows that even extremely ferocious songs profit from a fairly catchy chorus. But "Omnivore", the following track, is even more brutal. Epidemic of violence, indeed! "Omnivore" seems to be the sonic depiction of a deadly shot of a sniper. Its precise, sharp and straight hooliganism violates any usual form of aesthetics. More or less the same applies for the closer. In spite of the fact that the band has written another concise chorus with an iota of melody, "Aborticide" presents the audience a total mutilation of beauty. It makes clear for the last time that Demolition Hammer's heaviness is based on brutality, vehemence and ruthlessness. Whatever stands in the way of this grim triple strike at the end of the album, the songs unleash a storm that will blow everything away.

The further tunes are anything else but bad. In terms of style, they are aligned with the aforementioned explosions. It is interesting to note that the songs do not put the focus on a smooth flow. They sound choppily (yet professional) and the staccato riffs are surely a reason for the extra portion of sadistic violence. The production supports this compositional approach, because it spreads a certain coldness. Unlike various thrash bands, Demolition Hammer did not create a racy sports car, but a surprisingly maneuverable steel colossus, a tank that fires continuously. Their unpitying version of thrash does not really border on death metal, because animalistic growling and low-tuned guitars are missing. It also does not contain even the smallest grain of black metal. Yet it lies in close proximity to brutality itself. Needless to say, that the high velocity of the compositions does the rest.

Epidemic of Violence is probably not a masterpiece of compositional brilliance, it has lost a few percent of its power over the years and fans of diversity should not look out for this album. But it has some great tunes and another crucial advantage: back in 1992, it was a statement against the effeminacy of (more or less) the whole scene. Completely pigheaded, the band members tortured their instruments (and nobody thought that their next output would join the list of the aforementioned lukewarm outputs). Maybe with the exception of the title track of "The American Way", the albums that I mentioned at the beginning are forgotten. Epidemic of Violence lives on. Isn't it great to be a part of such a righteous community?

Rating: 8.2 out of 10

Review by JD on January 5, 2011.

With not one iota of information that I could find out on this band, not even out on the net, I find myself with one major dilemma on my hands. Either I keep searching for the background information I use to write all of my reviews with or just dive in blind and do the review on the music itself. I take a deep breath, click on the play in my Media Player and hold on for dear life. The blind review commences. Anyone got a bottle of really strong shit?

I was instantly blown away with the blind listen. Alassë plays some impressive Progressive influenced Symphonic Black Metal with a fury and talent that rivals anyone out there. Sounding like a odd spawning of Cradle Of Filth meeting Bathory with a added touch of Death Metal to me... it is big, rich and heavy as hell. I was glad of that much.

Songs like the diabolic 'In Memoriam / Fiet Illud Quod Futurum Est' shows a depth of complexity that the band has while more straight ahead fare like the pounding 'En Tutoi Nika' shows more of a brutality that borders on the criminally insane. It pumps and bleeds, sending you to a place even angels tremble to think about.

I hate going into any review blind and somewhat in the dark. I have been burned by really bad bands before when there has been no information. This album was by far the best blind listen I have ever gotten, and I thank them many times over. I thought about not doing the review... I am glad for doing it after all.

Categorical Rating Breakdown

Musicianship:9
Atmosphere: 8.5
Production: 8
Originality: 8.5
Overall: 8

Rating: 8.4 out of 10

Review by Chris Pratl on April 9, 2018.

As with anything, age and the passage of time are often cruel and unforgiving masters to whom we are undeniably submissive. Sure, we can do everything to try and combat the inevitable, but eventually the laws of gravity and life give way and we have limits set for us. Sometimes we have to have the good sense to know when to hear that last bell and follow its dreaded tolling into that gentle goodnight. After hearing teaser tracks from the latest Judas Priest effort, Redeemer of Souls, I'm caught between a barbed wire fence and nearly 35-years of heavy metal greatness (dismissing the one or two bumps in that long and storied road).

Okay, long and short, this latest Priest record is criminally missing one of its major components in terms of sound, and that is Mister Ken "K.K." Downing. That familiar tonal assault I'm so used to hearing on each Priest record since 1980 is just gone, vanished into the nether of a myriad of conjecture and quick dissociative blurbs. As to why Downing decided to opt out of one of the greatest metal bands to ever walk the planet, I hear the rumors and see the aforementioned block quotes, but I can only surrender to my own personal feelings of something completely off and just not right. That little OCD moment aside, I sat here and more or less convinced myself that the utter disaster that was Nostradamus couldn't possibly be matched, and thankfully I was right. This newest record isn't anything close to that double-disc insult, but it also isn't at the level of credibility of Angel of Retribution, harkening the return of Rob Halford to the fold after a lengthy foray into Trent Reznor-esque boredom and an eventual return to the very medium once sarcastically declared "dead." Musically, Redeemer of Souls is a competent, even good album for your run of the mill NWOBHM band vying for a selected spot in this current resurgence of that primitive, yet fundamentally important sound. There are standout tracks, such as 'Valhalla' that really overpower me and get me feeling good about the Priest again, but I'd be remiss if I didn't say that there is so much studio magic on Halford's voice it should be a Honey Nut Cheerios commercial. The high register days of 'The Sentinel' and 'Dreamer Deceiver' are long over, I understand that, but the vocal performance here sports a very thin border between rudimentary and a simple going-through-motions. Is it offensive? No, not by any means, but I will say that the little clean vocal crooning in 'Sword of Damocles' is downright painful and should have been cut out completely from an otherwise decent track. These little indiscretions don't pile up too much, but they do tend to throw off the vibe and flow of the album. I suppose after 40-years going, Judas Priest no longer needs to worry about such things.

Sandwiched between spurts of goodness, tracks like 'March of the Damned' read more like a mediocre bar band trying to fire up a corner saloon filled with drunken leftovers from the 80's hair metal scene. Vocally, lyrically, even musically it falls well short of being anything close to memorable. The soloing is about as lackluster as it gets, which is depressing considering the magic sweeping from at least one set those fingers for all of these years. I'm not knocking Richie Faulkner or his ability to play his instrument; truth told, he is a very good guitarist, but if he was supposed to be some sort of cortisone injection into an aging Priest, that shot missed the target muscle. The closest we get to former glory is the opening riff in 'Down in Flames,' which recalls, quite vividly, 'Heading Out to the Highway' with its chunky riff and thumping bass line that made me momentarily smile. This track is one of the sandwich tracks I mentioned and resonates pretty well as something you might have heard from either Point of Entry or Painkiller. Even the vocals on this track are really as close to "nailing it" as Rob Halford will come, but I am anxious to hear some of the leaked live shows when they start trickling out there to see how this material stands up in the purest form possible.

Again, this album shows us an aged Judas Priest, and that little fact isn't lost on me. However, as a lifelong fan of the band I don't think it's unreasonable to assume (and hope) for a more spirited performance from these guys. When I hear this album all the way through for about the sixth or seventh time now, I am left wanting more. I want Downing and that familiar Tipton/Downing trade off that still makes Dave Murray and Adrian Smith so damn potent in the same age bracket. I want a fire in the belly; the same fire that kept a dying Ronnie James Dio going strong and powerful for a lot longer than probable as he approached 70. My point is, despite the ever-declining lifespan of us all, there is still something to be said for giving it your all and just going for it with the proverbial metal on the floor and the open wind slapping you into violent submission. Even the opening notes of 'Cold Blooded' seem so lifeless and solicit no real emotional engagement, and that's the saddest part of this record for me (though the solo in this song is the best on the album.) There are definite moments of pinhole-lighted magic disseminated throughout the entire album, but overall Redeemer simply fails to thrill me like it should, but I keep myself satiated by telling myself, "At least it ain't that last pile of crap." We all have our little pick-me-ups.

I love Judas Priest. I love everything about the band: the history, the black leather-studded, whip-carrying, motorcycle-riding, unearthly-screaming Judas Priest that I grew up with all through the 80's into the present day. It pains me to my core to see one of my favorite bands simply lose a fire that has been burning for so long, and please don't sedate yourself with talk of them being older and still being a great band for its age. Even worse, I've seen it bandied about that they are legends and should "get a pass" for being less than stellar now, and this is where I vehemently disagree. Picture, if you will, an aging pugilist, whose better days of single-vision are long behind him. He knows nothing else but how to fight, and despite the brain damage and obvious grasping at straws to stay both relevant and competitive, he simply doesn't have the tools to keep up any longer. Yet he stays. He takes beating after beating, swelling and bleeding from every orifice on his head, and he simply won't quit. Why is this man so stubborn? Pride? Conviction? Stupidity? One too many blows to the head? Who can say? All we see is this shell of former greatness that is well past his prime, and the last visage we'll have of him is a weary and stumbling artifact walking away, not to a Bill Conti composition, but to a quiet, pitying darkness that will slowly envelop him as he shrinks from sight into the rest of his broken existence. The bell has rung, and it's time to let it go gracefully while the last visuals are ones of amazement and triumph. It will not get any better from this point on, and we need to see that and accept it.

The world isn't fair, but it is consistent.

(Originally written for www.metalpsalter.com)

Rating: 4.5 out of 10

Review by Krys on July 12, 2014.

After seeing all those eights and nines in so called 'big' metal magazines, I decided to get myself a copy and see what this fuzz is all about. By now I should have known better that high scores to sell magazines and acquire advertisers rarely translate into actual quality of the material. Damn it, I got tricked again!

OK, I wasn't expecting Ram it Down or Painkiller, I abandoned that hope around the turn of the century, but this must be one of the least exciting pieces of music I've heard in a while (from well established band). There was not a single track that I wanted to hit repeat while listening to Redeemer Of Souls, not even one! What's worse, more than on one occasion I actually was tempted to skip a few, and only because I was writing this review I forced myself to hear the whole thing. I don't want to be mean or rude here but these days there are more dynamic and aggressive songs on alternative radio. Most of the compositions are just boring, unimaginative patchwork of notes with ordinary riffs, only from time to time saved by a nice lead or a solo. Halford's voice lost its teeth long time ago and this time around he generally stays in a safe zone simply singing dull vocal lines without any vigor or zest. Dreadful drumming lacking excitement or meaningful tempo changes tops this gem. Sure I can find few interesting riffs or above average melodies like in Hail of Valhalla or some passion from Halford in Sword of Damocles, but this album clocks over an hour and this is Judas Priest not a debut release from unknown band. Trust me, if it wasn't for band's name, most of you wouldn't even look at this thing to start with. And that pretty much says it all, Redeemer Of Souls is a record for diehard fans only with a very strong emphasis on "diehard", but I don't see any new metal maniacs turning their heads towards this band after that record.

Even though I haven't heard anything special from Judas Priest in years, this will still be my disappointment of the year. With a few exceptions, Redeemer Of Souls is mundane and boring with uninspired songwriting and not the best production to top it all. It's almost like they knew that's not our best material so let's mud the mix a little.

Rating: 5 out of 10