(written by Islander)
From everything we’ve read about the members of Barbarian over the last 15 years or so, they’re a trio of die-hard metal maniacs whose heads are filled to the brim with music from a variety of classic eras throughout heavy metal history. They have also consistently demonstrated a rare ability to let that array of influences almost instinctively flow through their own songwriting in ways that are familiar but never formulaic, so much so that you never know quite what they’re going to do from one album to the next, or even within individual songs, except you know it’s going to light a bonfire in your head.
Undoubtedly, the songwriting process of these Italians begins with riffs — because the songs are usually packed to the brim with them — but it’s also clear they devote a lot of care to refinement of their initial ideas, with the objective of leaving no one bored, and least of all themselves.
To repeat, you never know quite what’s going to happen, or even which inspirations might work their way into the music, but you can be damn sure the results will be interesting… and exhilarating… and heavy metal to the core.
Which brings us to Barbarian’s new album Reek of God, which we’re excited to share with you from start to finish today in advance of its January 23 release by their new label Dying Victims Productions.
Speaking of inspirations that worked their way into the new album, and its lyrical themes, consider this excerpt from the press materials for Reek of God:
Of course, the album’s lyrics strike at everything that is religious. But special mention must be made for “Shit He Forgives,” which is based on the lyrics of “Reality Asylum” by anarcho-punk pioneers Crass, and “Crossburn,” which is a political statement that places the band on the opposite side of the spectrum regarding the KKK connection the title might suggest.
Deepening the record-nerd’dom, the album’s “Warning” intro is a take on the Ice-T intro of the same name on the legendary rapper’s Home Invasion album from 1993. Likewise, BARBARIAN’s cover here of the Los Angeles L7’s “Freak Magnet” is one featuring their typical Hellhammer-ish atonal riffs – which were atypical for L7, drawing an otherwise-overlooked throughline of aesthetic symbiosis – and inspired by the 1992 version produced by Butch Vig (on the Everglade EP) rather than the 1994 version produced by Gggaarth (on Hungry for Stink).
Yeah, Crass, L7, and Ice-T on a Barbarian album. Why the hell not?
But as a concrete example of what’s going on musically, let’s take the lead single “Maxima Culpa“, which immediately follows that “Warning” spoken-word intro track. It arrived with a video starring the band’s members that moves from one chilling and mysterious scene to another, and like the video, the song itself isn’t a straightforward narrative either.
As the music moves from riff to riff and melody to melody, and back through them again, it’s always anchored by compulsive rhythms and always fronted by barbarically hostile vocals, and as it evolves, the song channels sensations of chilling menace, electrifying malignancy, diabolical brazenness, surging hunger, and horned glory (the soloing is especially glorious).
It gets muscles throbbing, saliva flowing, and heads spinning, and although you can hear the changing heavy-metal touchstones from the ’80s and ’90s as the song barrels ahead, it doesn’t come across like some random scattering of them, but is instead a cohesive and compelling composition.
Like “Maxima Culpa“, the rest of the songs on Reek of God are compact, almost all of them in the 2-4 minute range, and like that lead single there’s no shortage of riffs (until you get to the futuristic keyboard closer). We didn’t make our own count, but those press materials claim “exactly 98 riffs in 35 minutes.” Further like “Maxima Culpa“, the songs are also packed with rhythmic dynamite, come-for-your-throat vocals, and hooks galore.
But as previewed earlier, the main songs between the opener and closer don’t follow simple or straightforward instrumental narratives. The tempos change constantly, the riffs and riffing techniques shift frequently, and the arrangements reveal complexity and abundant embellishments, including further episodes of spectacular soloing, morphing drum rhythms, and electrifying fills.
You could take any one of these songs, double its length, and still be left very happy, yet Barbarian’s mantra on this album of “get in, do the work, and get the hell out” is a winning strategy. Each song might leave you wanting more of it, but you’ll quickly figure out that the next one rushing up to you will be just as much hell-raising, blood-pumping fun.
Oh, it’s evil fun too! Even if you didn’t know these people were dyed-in-the-wool blasphemers, the music is horned and hellish in all its changing guises. Whether the music is insidiously squirming, viciously gnashing, balls-out thrashing, brazenly blaring, or sometimes even imperiously stomping, it always proudly brandishes the pentagram.
The production qualities are also worth noting. The music isn’t murky — each instrumental and vocal contribution is easily detectable — and the guitar tonalities provide a delectable mix of filth and knife-blade clarity.
It might be trite to say it, but it’s true here: the main songs of Reek of God are all killer, no filler, and a tremendous way to help get 2026 metal off to a good start. Settle in now and press Play:
Dying Victims will release this sixth Barbarian album on CD and vinyl LP formats, which feature the over-the-top cover art by Claudio Elias Scialabba. Pick it up via the locations linked below.
PRE-ORDER:
https://dyingvictims.com/
https://dyingvictimsproductions.bandcamp.com/album/reek-of-god
BARBARIAN:
https://www.facebook.com/barbarianmetal