Review by Norbert on March 10, 2026.

I don't like the term "supergroup," especially when applied to underground metal bands. The word always evokes images of gala announcements on breakfast television and has nothing to do with a few guys locked in a rehearsal room, eager to rip someone's head off with riffs. Instead of red carpets, they have a cubbyhole reeking of damp and monitors soaked in beer. And yet... Hellfuck, who introduced themselves to the world three years ago with the album "Diabolic Slaughter," released by the ever-reliable Godz Ov War, are made up of guys who cut their teeth on metal, having slammed Azarath, Embrional, Stillborn, Throneum, Squash Bowels, Arkona, and a few other bands. Last year, the drummer Młody—who has probably covered about 500 bands in the Polish underground—was replaced by none other than Inferno of Behemoth/Azarath/Witchmaster/Terrestrial Hospice, etc., etc. And how can I avoid using that unfortunate word? If that's not an underground "supergroup," I don't know what is.

"Diabolic Slaughter" might have seemed like an after-hours outing – four veterans of the metal underground got together to pay tribute to old German thrash and give everyone a good beating in the process. It was like, "Hey, let's record an album like we were kids, reminisce about the days of tapes we copied from a friend, and then we go home." Three and a half years have passed. It turns out, no one ever went home.

Hellfuck's second release, "9 Nails Hammered Into The Flesh Of God," officially to be released on March 13th, 2026 (again on Godz Ov War), proves this debut wasn't a one-off. Apparently, there were more nails in the warehouse.

For those who loved "Diabolic Slaughter" for its extreme concentration of ass-kicking in a kick ass, its powerful anti-clerical message, packaged in short, condensed three- or four-minute bursts of speed/thrash with a distinctly Teutonic provenance, I have good news. The band's second album doesn't bring revolution—and that's a good thing. The core remains intact: fast, aggressive riffs cut like a culture budget, galloping drums, screaming, gravelly vocals, and compositions that prioritize energy over trickery. This is still music steeped in the aesthetics of the late '80s, without flirting with modernity or trying to appeal to anyone but fans of uncompromising thrash. Anyone hoping for clean vocals, a candlelit ballad, or a duet with Celine Dion can immediately return to Spotify Discover Weekly.

Differences? There are, but they're not of the 'flip the table' sort. Most noticeable are the subtle additions in the background—delicate layers of keyboards and undefined sonic streaks that hover over the riffs like a ghostly reverb from another dimension or the ghost of a condemned metalhead trying to join the chorus. Don't worry—this isn't a sudden shift toward symphonic black metal with lasers and capes. Rather, it's a slight atmospheric twist, a pinch of pepper thrown into an already fiendishly spicy soup. The interludes don't dominate or drive the melody, but they do thicken the atmosphere. However, those obsessed with total rawness might sigh. Because while this is just a spice, not a change of recipe, there's more melody here—more moments where the riff not only attacks but also lingers in the head. The compositions are a bit more structured, as if the band had allowed themselves a slightly deeper breath. The final track, 'The Temple Of Deceit Burns Bright,' at times comes dangerously close to Kreator's more contemporary productions—not in the sense of polish or stadium-style pathos, but in the way they build tension and melody. And that's not a criticism, but rather a sign that Hellfuck aren't standing still.

Lyrically, the band also takes no prisoners. The anti-clerical message is delivered without a shred of subtlety—without metaphorical sugarcoating, without pretending to be anything else. The titles alone speak volumes: "Master Of The Decaying World," "Rebel Desecration," "Wonderful Stench Of Death," "The Scourge Of Existence," "Destroyer Of Heaven," "Holy Whore's Prayer," and "The Temple of Deceipt Burns Bright." This isn't a soundtrack to a church service—it's more of a symbolic interruption. You wouldn't play this album to your aunt over Sunday soup. This is material that might make your next-door neighbor nervously look around for holy water.

The new album clocks in at just over half an hour, and it never feels drawn out. The songs are direct, focused, and devoid of any downtime. They don't drag on like a sermon on a holiday. They leave no room for boredom. The musicians' experience is evident in the details—in the way they deliver riffs, build tension, and weave everything into one cohesive whole. This is music that works instinctively. There's no need to analyze it—just let yourself be carried away and let your neck work.

Are Hellfuck discovering America's Ruhr Region? No. Do they go beyond their clearly defined style? Not really, though they are subtly expanding their scope. "9 Nails Hammered Into The Flesh Of God" is still a solid dose of merciless thrash, but with a few new nuances that make it more than just a rehash of their debut.

Hellfuck's second blow is just as accurate as the first. If this is still a "side project," then I'd like more of these "side" excursions. Nine nails hammered. Album checked off. Peace of mind. For compromises in thrash, look elsewhere.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10