Rating: NN
Although they try to calculatedly cram in as many thrash metal clichés as inhumanly possible, from squealing and shredding guitar solos to snappy double-bass drumming and the ubiquitous halftime breakdown (ad nauseam, mind you), the biggest hindrance for the Welsh group on their latest is that they just can’t seem to come up with anything even remotely unique enough to be considered a “Valentine moment.”
Announcing with a megaphone their undying worship of all things pre-Black-album Metallica as well as vintage Slayer, BFMV fall victim to a kind of soulless, inorganic production that removes every drop of intensity the band can muster. But underneath the muck and songwriting-by-numbers, there’s a talented band that’s as earnest as it is disappointingly homogenous.. With more time, they may finally do something worth getting excited about.
