Review by Dominik on March 28, 2026.

Wow. I honestly didn't expect that. White Mantis' debut was already a very solid piece of thrash metal, clearly making me suspect that the band got their fair share of Teutonic thrash vitamins from time to time, or someone back then slipped them a Kreator LP behind the schoolyard. But after listening to their newest work, "Arrows At The Sun", I stand humbly corrected. The guys didn't just snack on German thrash influences because they most likely received the full dose intravenously straight from the cradle. Possibly by a midwife wearing a Destruction shirt. This is one of those rare releases that effortlessly moves across decades and time-travels without the awkward paradoxes. You could blast it in 1985 on a tape deck in your parents' basement just as easily as in 2025 on some overpriced streaming platform. It fits both eras better than your favorite pair of jeans ever did. White Mantis for my old ears presents a style of thrash so deeply rooted in German heritage that you really don’t need a lot of experience to figure out where these musicians come from. Being German myself, I'm of course aware that I might be suffering from a case of musical self-fulfilling prophecy or a chronic case of thrash-related confirmation bias: German band? Check. Vocalist with an unmistakable German accent? Check. Therefore, this must be a fully-fledged Teutonic thrash assault! Well, it does walk like a thrash panzer, and it does sound like a thrash panzer…

What I like most about "Arrows At The Sun" isn't just the quality of the music, but that the band avoids leaning too heavily on the usual long-standing thrash titans, neither musically nor vocally. They didn't hire a Tom Angelripper impersonator, and trying to pin down the vocalist's predominant influences is like trying to nail pudding to a wall: messy, pointless, and you’ll regret the attempt. One moment he's pissed, spitting acid, and accusatory in full thrash mode; the next he slips into cleaner singing which—miracle of miracles—doesn't make you cringe. Unexpected? Absolutely. Unwelcome? Not at all.

Musically, the same delightful problem arises. Sometimes I swear I'm hearing early Angel Dust or Living Death (minus the vocalist who sounded like he'd swallowed a gremlin), then suddenly the more technical passages give off a faint Mekong Delta aroma. Even though each song carries a slightly different vibe, it is fortunately never at the cost of the album's cohesion. Also, the production is spot on. It's well-balanced between old and modern with enough rough edges to keep the thrash purists happy, and just enough polish so every instrument has its place in the mix.

Let me walk through some tracks in more detail. "Necrotornado" opens the album in spectacular fashion. There is nothing remotely "necro" to be found, but a tornado it surely is. Listen to it twice, and you'll be yelling along to the chorus like a drunk at the Oktoberfest as if your life depended on it. It's not dumbed-down or simplistic, but it has that classic thrash catchiness that grabs you by the collar. One thing becomes obvious by minute two: the band used the time between their debut and this album well. It proves the dudes did more than just scratch their butts and tune their guitars. High-velocity riffing meets well-timed slowdowns, and halfway through the track, the dynamics shift just enough to keep things interesting without disrupting the flow. Of course, the band throws in enough solo madness—anything else would have been a crime against thrash humanity.

The title track, "Arrows At The Sun," adds more fuel to the fire and proves my earlier point. It sounds unmistakably like White Mantis, yet shows—lacking a better term—some progressive influences. Just focus on the buildup to the chorus. But fear not, as this isn’t the kind of "progressive" that ties your brain into a nautical knot and leaves you drooling. It’s digestible, tasteful, and actually enhances the music rather than trying to show off how many music theory textbooks the band owns.

Being a speed addict myself, the high-octane rockets on "Arrows At The Sun" work best for me. Mid-album, "Divide And Kill" and "Atavistic Power" are definite highlights. The former scores with the vocalist going more frantic and driving the song relentlessly forward like he's chasing someone with a broken bottle, while the latter impresses with a chorus that lodges itself into your brain like a tick in summer. Don't be fooled by the introductory riff that pretends the band wants to groove you gently into sleep. The track wakes you up faster than an unwanted 4 a.m. phone call.

Is this the flawless album we all crave for? It is not (yet). Though each song has something great to offer, there are moments where things drag slightly — "Reality Exists" comes to mind — or feel a bit too generic, like "Over Your Pale Bones", which alternates between parts that feel like a rush job and genuinely strong sections propelled by imploring vocals. "Altar Of Technology" is the last highlight and a fitting closer to an excellent album. It's not the fastest kid in the class, but it summarizes everything the band does right: frantic rhythms, tonal variation, and a memorable overall design. Once again, the buildup to the chorus sticks to your brain like the smell of old leather in a rehearsal bunker no one has cleaned since 1987. It is persistent and strangely comforting.

Another strong point in my opinion is that the band refrains from diving into the stale swamp of lyrical clichés that thrash has been drowning in for decades. Instead of "nukes, beer, moshing, repeat", they don't shy away from sociopolitical themes, techno criticism, and a healthy skepticism toward humanity's obsession with progress at any cost. Some might be surprised, considering that several members also play in black metal projects, but none of that bleeds through here, neither musically nor lyrically. No forest worship, no burning churches, no wolves howling at the moon, no "grim" atmospheric interludes. Probably for the best. "Arrows At The Sun" is a must-listen, an album that manages to be both familiar and unexpectedly fresh. I didn't see it coming, and sincerely hope we won’t have to wait another six years for album number three, because by then, half the band and half the fans might need chiropractor appointments before headbanging again.

Rating: 8.6 out of 10, because if they balanced old and new any better, the next album would risk collapsing into a temporal paradox. Which, as we know, may erase half of the thrash history.