Battered
Self Titled
6.3
It’s safe to say that these guys don’t play traditional thrash. While they might have been raised on the Kreators, Metallicas, and Slayers of the world, they’re not exactly sticking to any one proven trademark style, which is both a blessing and a curse, because initially their sound registers as quite unique, but after a while I had been thoroughly convinced that I had heard this done better by Rumpelstiltskin Grinder. Pummeling comes to mind almost immediately, but it’s that frequently annoying kind where the vocalist sounds like he recorded his parts whilst sitting on the john and letting the big ones rip. This is real “tough guy” thrash, and for the genre, it’s done pretty well. Hell, the solo near the end of “Not One” might even be described as rad. Same goes for the one halfway through “The Dig.” Problem is, I don’t think this particular subgenre has much potential for lasting impressions. It sacrifices too much melody for the sake of syncopation and limp rhythmic galloping. There are moments when they’ll tease you and really come out firing on all cylinders (“The Dig”) before settling on a mediocre riff that does nothing in terms of allowing the listener to develop some sense of progression. If you like Rumpelstiltskin Grinder or modern Dolving-era The Haunted, chances are that you’ll find something appealing in Battered’s controlled chaos. They could stand to let loose a bit more though. They manage to do exactly that on a few tracks, most notably “Perfect Illusion,” which is much speedier than the rest of the group’s debut, but that same energy high isn’t duplicated enough to warrant further attention. What I am feeling right now is the blah aftertaste of an album that could have been a lot more if the group hadn’t been so conservative in approach.
