Warpath - Filthy Bastard Culture (2018)

Ever since I did a review swarm covering the evolution of German thrash through the 80s, 90s (and beyond), Hamburg brutes Warpath have proven one of several control groups in how to approach the medium in as banal a fashion as possible. Now I don't take any pleasure in constantly harping on a particular band, but their 90s records were constantly the very definition of mediocrity (at their best), and after the gulf of two decades, their return with last year's Bullets for a Desert Session showed startlingly little growth, even after the career nadir Kill Your Enemy that dropped in 1996 to barely a scrap of fanfare. Now normally I might have set this pull a 180, and regale you with my shock and awe that these guys have finally dropped a worthwhile album, but Filth Bastard Culture is sadly nowhere near deserving of such an accolade. I admire the band's persistence, and they manage to hang on to a Massacre deal, but man was I hoping it would be different this time.

Okay, let me back up and make one exception...this record has the best production I think they've ever presented us with. Clear, powerful chords, abrasive and grooving rhythm section, gravelly and angry vocals, and even the few embellishments like the symphonics used in the title track sound quite good in the mix. I struggle to call this much of a 'thrash' metal effort at all. The band has always had just as much of a tie to the blunt instruments of groove and nu-metal throughout the 90s, while not nearly as annoying as most bands to bear those descriptors. The stark simplicity of the chords here, running through predictable, bouncy cuts like "Back to Zero", often reminds me of the metallic derived elements of New York hardcore, and many of the riffs are purely rock or punk injected, differentiated only by the more growled vocals that seem more indicative of aggressive thrash. As I hinted above, Warpath does try a few deviations here, like the orchestration used to kick off and accompany the title cut, or the slower paced "Believe in Me" with its clean, deep vocals and guitar lines that lead into the bruising of the distorted chords..."St. Nihil", with its doomed gait. Alas, these just don't bring the 'catchy' any more than the rest of the material...

There is some thrash, to be fair...like "Killing Fields" with its Black-album Metallica pacing, or a couple other tunes with thick palm muted phrases ripe for 80s urban moshing. There are a handful of melodic or lead-like elements, as in "F.U." (come on, really?), but these seem a little subdued, as if the band isn't confident enough to slather them over the brickheaded grooves. And that's another thing, the titles and lyrics all seem rather bland, not that this is always a dealbreaker to me, but when there's not a lot of music to value, they definitely can drive an experience further under. As a total package, Filthy Bastard Culture offers just so little aspiration, so little genuine nastiness, comparing this to their 80s German forebears like Destruction and Kreator is like having a Cro-magnon emerge from its cave, to see a jet or helicopter soar above for the very first time. Nothing risked, nothing gained, and after over a quarter of a century, I'm not sure anything ever will be. Far from the most incompetent band I've heard, yet a long way from making any progress. I'd hesitate to say that it truly 'sucks', but the most memorable aspects of this album are the production and the fact that they're still packing that logo which looks a lot like New York thrashers Whiplash.

Verdict: Indifference [5/10]

Warpath - Bullets for a Desert Session (2017)

Several years ago I did a sweeping review project covering all the German thrash I could find, partly to track it across the decades as one of my favorite scenes in the subgenre's history. Warpath is a band I was not particularly kind towards, an average at best analog to the 90s wave of American groove metal pundits who contributed greatly to the depreciation of the style, but which managed not to succumb entirely to the lure of nu-metal. They still left on a sour note, even by their standards, with 1996's Kill Your Enemy, but when I saw that they had reformed after 20 years of inactivity and gotten a new deal through Massacre, with several new members, I was curious whether they would be barking up the same tree, or perhaps benefit from all that added experience and listening that the decades might bring to their core style, and while I can't say that they've improved a great deal from their initial run, Bullets for a Desert Session is without question a near equal to their 'better' works.

That's not saying much. Sure. This is still the meaty, straightforward thrash metal you might have remembered them for in the 90s, but perhaps the gulf of time makes it a little more tolerable, or that they've just written material which is slightly more appealing to the ear. When I hear the gruff vocals and creatively deficient riff-set here, I'm reminded a lot of those years when Sacred Reich dropped the ball on their later albums, or perhaps a little Machine Head or Exhorder (bands I'm not terribly fond of). Nuance and variation takes a backseat to chugging and muscle, with a limited array of chords to balance it out, so the only elevation real here comes from a chorus like "I Don't Care", where the guitars slide up a little higher from the palm mutes to provide an almost punk flavor to contrast against the mad dog vocals. If you're just out for a stroll through the mosh pit and jonesing for records like the legendary Speak English or Die from S.O.D., then you're probably the target for a record like this, only it's even slower and more simple in some aspects than you might even expect for baseline testosterone thrash from those Golden Ages.

The mix here is really dense and potent, that I have no issue with. The bass tone is nice and fat, and vocalist Dirk Weiss definitely sounds like he can put back a few pints, with a grating, angry sustain, but beyond production values there was just too little to appeal to me. The formulas employed in the songwriting seem a little too safe, bouncy and dated, with even the gang shouts forecast from a mile away. Within those parameters, though, Warpath still has an ability to come off as slightly catchy and charismatic for such crude, pummeling music. But it's just too easy to pinpoint where a band like this couldn't break through where countrymen like Kreator, Tankard and Destruction excelled...the level of musicianship here is simply child's play by comparison, a couple of chords that don't sound like they took much effort in creating. And, look, that's probably the modus operandi here. These guys wanted to put together some bulldozer metal and bang some heads with a crowd while pitching back some beers...it's just unfortunate that so many others do it so much better. Bullets for a Desert Session is a textbook 'loyal to a fault' comeback album. If you were into their older stuff, then it is probably not a terrible listen, but not only has thrash moved on from this dingy period, it was already significantly better even 7-8 years before the band originally dropped their debut.

Verdict: Indifference [5.25/10]

Warpath - Kill Your Enemy (1996)

I'm shamed to say that the crickets that close out Kill Your Enemy, the 4th and final album from Germans Warpath, offer all too apt a closure to the band's middling career. The very definition of dull, this album sums up just about everything I couldn't stand about 90s groove metal, all in one convenient location, and makes even their prior, mediocre albums seem pleasing by comparison. Where the last effort Against Everyone actually showed some vital energy, some promise amidst its effortless, grinding guitar craft, this album slows the pace down once more to a crawl, a battery of boring open chords configured into Biohazard grooves and Pantera breakdowns which lacks all the character that such acts rode to infamy.

You seriously have to travel pretty deep into the content here to find a song that doesn't make you instantly gag, it is that uninspired. And I'm not saying that because there's a single track worth noting, only that the hardcore fueled "Sign of Hard Times" is too welcome a break from the sodden grooves of crap like "Die Maschine", "Stomp" or "Overrollin'" (what?). Oh wait, that's because it's a Cro-Mags cover and not an actual Warpath song. They attempt to fake some vulgar speed with the first few cuts, but they all devolve into tired, pedestrian chord patterns that sound as if the guitar players are unaware of anything beyond the lowest 4-5 chords on their guitars. This material is built ground up for the moshing crowd, and the mosh crowd only, except that it doesn't even have much to offer those brigands...

The new vocalist Arnie is monotonous and angry, using the sort of bludgeoning tone that was perfected by Sheer Terror many years before, and used to no good ends since. Otherwise this was the same band, bassist Maurer sharing duties with Temple of the Absurd, a band which several alumni of Warpath fled to, working with Holy Moses' Sabina Classen (and not good either). Somehow, this band managed to hang on to their Steamhammer deal for years, but no level of exposure would brighten this sad excuse for a swan song. Weak lyrics, weaker music. I give to you: the worst of Warpath.

Verdict: Fail [3/10]

Warpath - Against Everyone (1994)

I have to give Warpath some credit. After two albums of fairly listless, mediocre meat thrash, they've evolved into some slightly more menacing, a fit of pulverizing, driven thrash that often borders on grind in places. I'm not saying I'm a fan of Against Everyone, and in fact the content is just barely as satisfying as their debut, but from a production and energy standpoint, this was a good decision. The bass is lent a ripping loudness, and the guitars batter the listener like baseball bats in the hands of some restless riot squad. There is less 'control' here, less desire to simmer in the juices of the uninspired and derivative, so it's only too sad that the actual riff writing for the album still comes up short.

The vocals still belong to Dirk Weiss, and he's using the same tone reminiscent of Cronos or, perhaps more appropriately, King Fowley of Deceased. It's certainly a better performance than either of the previous albums, and the band have tagged on just another reverb that he sounds like he's howling over the burning of city blocks. In fact, the entire album has this atmosphere, and I enjoy how they include the chanting bits of "In Rage" or the whispered, decrepit vocals in the bridge of "I Hate". The faster material like "Gate Crasher", "Mind Commits Murdr" and "Vote of Censure" is almost always superior in quality to the plodding pieces that return to the pace of Massive, so I almost feel like the band should have gone all out 100% grind + Sodom, a band which this certainly hints at in spots.

Alas, the guitars here are just so lacking in anything beyond the churning atmosphere that I found I was almost in a coma of lifeless Discharge worship. Anger abounds, but it might have been fashionable to marry it to some worthwhile notation. Instead, these riffs just bounce around in a limbo of creativity, stripped and struggling to play more than 3-4 chords with a numbing repetition. The samples and tweaks found nestled in several of the tracks thus become its only saving grace, its only diversion from the caustic ennui. Warpath have come out in force for this album, but it's a force too easily quelled by the local authorities riding bullet proof glass limos and strapped with riot shields.

Verdict: Indifference [5.5/10]

Warpath - Massive (1993)

When War Begins... was not exactly a flagship of potential. Sure, it was a tidy record with very solid production and clean tones that gave the guitars a lot of punch, but the writing was all to mediocre at a time when a thrash band really needed to stand out to survive. Well, somehow Warpath got picked up by Steamhammer records, but their sophomore Massive follows in the same precise footsteps, with perhaps a little more edge to the Cronos-styled vocals. Like Holy Moses, the vocals would have fit right at home on an early death or death/thrash metal effort, but here they're served over a slew of primal and pedestrian riffs and thick, oozing bass that feels again like artillery slowly rolling out to battle, so slow that it misses all the action...

"Massive" itself is especially vapid. You know you've run out of ideas when you're writing lyrics about the actual act of how you write lyrics, and this seems to cover that subject, lumbering along with some huge, dumb grooves. It's unfortunate, because I wouldn't mind Dicker's vocals so much over better music, but they're just wasted on this. A couple of other, bass-sloshed thrash tracks like "Ambivalence" and "Race War" attempt a higher volley of energy, but the riffs are just terrible, rarely played on more than 2-3 chords or mutes that better bands would toss as being wholly uninteresting. Songs like "Save Me from the Wreckage" and "Fears of the Past" do nothing more than the basic Sacred Reich style plodding, only much worse. Once in awhile, the thick wall of rhythm will collide with Dicker in an effective force (the bridge of "Fears of the Past"), but then all momentum is lost when the guitars surge into the dumbest riffs imaginable.

Pick up a guitar and play the bottom four frets, then mute them, then re-arrange the patterns and try again. Thus is the compositional component of a Warpath album, and it's incredibly uninspiring. For once, you just want the band to start ripping shit up, like Sodom or Kreator, but this never factors into their Massive plans. I could accept this for just one album, but two in a row? There's almost no variation from the debut whatsoever, and if anything, this functions in even smaller parameters, since the drawn out mood pieces of When War Begins... seem superior to what few traces are found on this disc. Massive plugs along at about the same pace as when you're bench pressing, with the same blood pumping, weary monotony.

Verdict: Fail [4.5/10] (I write nonsense and shit for you)

Warpath - When War Begins...Truth Disappears (1992)

Warpath was another of the West Virginia Records family of bands who took a more blunt and US approach to thrash metal than their esteemed German forebears. You could very easily compare their sound to Despised, Howlin' Mad or Holy Moses for its simplicity of intent and average pacing. The difference is that Warpath had a tremendously professional sound to them, the equal of almost any other band out there from either side of the pond. They also had one of those monikers that probably a hundred other bands were striving for. Warpath. How can you not like it? Unfortunately, the Germans never really did much with the name, and their career consisted of four average to low quality albums that never went anywhere.

When War Begins is the first of these, and probably the best. The material written for this is blunt, honest, and direct, and the band wastes no time in fucking around. They just roll out the tank-like, bludgeoning riffs in "Resistance Useless", "Absolution", "The Ballad of H" and the dull plodding mosh of "Hypocrite". Punchy, taut distortion and simple, grooving drums abound, and rarely does the band build upon speed or conjure much interesting. "Those Crawling Insects" is the song I probably liked the most, but the semi-curious melodic muted riff in the intro does not sadly represent much of the track. There are also a lot of spacious, morose pieces like "Die in Grief" or the epic attempt, "Last Vacation" that also devolve into some standard thrash that recalls Sacred Reich. The vocals throughout the album actually sound a good deal like Cronos from Venom: angry, dour barking, and in fact Cronos guests on their cover of "Black Metal", with Sabina Classen...

Yes, that's the same "Black Metal" which appears on the useless Holy Moses compilation Too Drunk to Fuck, and it suffers from the too many pilots at one helm syndrome. But the problems here begin long before that, as the album is simply unable to build any level of interest through 10-11 tracks. Like a few of the other West Virginia-signed bands that I listed above, they are pretty much the definition of minimal effort. The guitars seem like they took almost no time to compose, merely variations on pre-existing material that stretched back to 1986-87. It's similar to the underwhelming Holy Moses debut, Queen of Siam, though I don't like the vocals as much as Sabina's even on a bad day. In short, it lacks the effective explosiveness of a good thrash album that makes you want to tear up pavement or throw your cubicle's furniture through the nearest glass window.

Verdict: Indifference [5.5/10]