Review by Dominik on November 8, 2024.

Sometimes it takes a new acquaintance, a new friend to remind you of something obvious. In this case, it’s the reminder that even in Poland, there are bands ready to fuse metal genres in bold ways. While I’ve listed thrash and black as interests on one profile or another, I admit I’m pretty picky when it comes to mixing the two. It is like nailing the perfect cocktail. If you don’t get the ratios right, your “Bloody Mary” can end up tasting more like the blood of Mary. Enter Garota, a band ready to challenge that balance with their debut, Czarne Wizje (“Black visions”). So, let’s see if they manage to serve up a drinkable mix of blackened thrash or if we’ll be reaching for a chaser. 

From the opening note, one thing is glaringly clear: this is no polished metal cocktail. Czarne Wizje has all the rough, jagged edges of a DIY brew. This isn’t some well-refined blend of thrash with epic black metal; it’s more of a nod to the gritty, abrasive thrash that labels like Wild Rags Records were pushing in the late ’80s. Think of the raw energy and simplicity of Anialator or Bloodcum, then throw in a rough, knock-off Tsjuder vibe, and you’ve got the general flavor of Garota’s approach. It’s simple and direct—effective, if not exactly groundbreaking. With this blend, we’re hovering around a solid 6.5/10 if we leave it at first impressions and were just judging by technicality and cohesion. 

But hey, I’m not one to quit after just one round. Let’s see what else this debut has up its sleeve to push it closer to a respectable score. First off, Czarne Wizje doesn’t sell you false promises. The whole thing reeks of authenticity—from the no-frills production to the grim band photos and hilariously straightforward song titles. For 34 minutes, Garota throws aggression in your face with zero apologies and not much variety. If you consider a basic slow–fast–slow pattern “dynamic”, then maybe you’ll find it thrilling, but otherwise, don’t expect versatility. And in this case, that’s probably by design. Garota didn’t release Czarne Wizje hoping you’d hum along; this is an album that bites, snarls, and occasionally sounds like it’d rather chew on a nail than charm a listener. It’s here to throw its weight around, plain, and simple. 

The album opens strong with 'W Oczach Diabła' (“In the eyes of the Devil”), which serves as a decent preview of what’s to come. Thrashing guitars and drums charge forward, and when the band cranks up the speed, they tear through the speakers with a vengeance. Garota’s vocalist, who doubles as a guitarist, keeps his pitch more on the thrash side, lending some balance to the blend without going full black metal shriek. Another point in their favor is consistency—the band manages to maintain a steady quality throughout. While there isn’t a single standout track that’ll have you hitting replay, neither is there a weak spot that makes you scream “skip”. 

The closer, 'Oczy Golgoty' (“The Eyes of Golgotha”), ties up this blackened thrash experience with a fitting endnote. It’s a decent summary of everything that came before, showing flashes of potential as they juggle the genres. Here, the blend finds a better balance, though we’re still ways off from the finesse of early Ketzer or Desaster. Occasionally, in tracks like 'Eden Płonie' (“Eden is burning”), the band stumbles and feels slightly awkward—like they’ve mixed two shots too many. Is it the debut jitters? Or maybe a bit of eagerness to rush this release to market? Maybe this brew just needed a bit more time to age. 

Either way, let’s not shove this album too far down the shelf. True, Garota could work on their sound, adding a bit more depth and punch, and perhaps letting their ideas simmer a while longer before the next release. But for now, it’s a raw start that makes you wonder about the untapped niches in Polish extreme metal—niches that Garota might just have what it takes to fill. Still, I’m glad to have had someone pointing out the obvious to me. 

Rating: 7.3/10 – because sometimes black thrash is best served rough around the edges, like a gritty, unapologetic homebrew that’s here to rattle, not impress.