I’m writing this on Friday afternoon. I don’t know for sure what I’ll feel like on Saturday morning when this post goes up on the site, but the odds are I’ll have an eye-watering hangover and my blood will be moving through the veins at the speed of sludge. I figure I’ll need something to get the blood pumping, something that will make me feel happy to be alive instead of contemplating the least painful way of killing myself. And as a trained medical professional, I have just the prescription for myself, and for any other Friday-night miscreants in the audience: Deathtrack. Or deathtrack, as the band seem to prefer.
deathtrack are from Norway. I discovered their existence two days ago via a report on the Facebook page of Svölk, with whom deathtrack share a band member (Halstein), that deathtrack were releasing a new EP with a free song download as enticement. So, impulsive creature that I am, I listened to that song (“Demon Cowboy”) plus one other that I found from the new EP (“True Blood”) — and I was SOLD. So sold, in fact, that I went and bought the band’s self-titled debut album on iTunes, in part because it includes a song called “Friday Night’s (All Right For Fighting)”, which seemed like good timing.
This music comes with a CLEAN SINGING! warning, but I’ll tell you what, Harry Hellriffer can sing, with a good, strong, clear voice, which he degrades with a little abrasion at the right moments. I’ll tell you another thing: These fuckers can lay down some heavy riffs and rhythms that make it impossible to sit still.