Nudity, skulls, gasmasks, chains, syringes, bullets, pentagrams...
the cover alone tells me I’m going to enjoy this. ’Trucizna’ is the latest splattering of pure evil to be vomited out of the darkest corners of Poland by its unholy creators, Witchmaster.
This is one huge skullfuck of an album, bringing to mind the blackened punk aggression of Impaled Nazarene and the raw, unrelenting grit of The Exploited’s ’Beat The Bastards’. Throw in a healthy dose of Napalm Death at their most vicious, and the picture starts to take shape. There will be no holding back, no safety net, no respite for the wicked. This is an unadulterated slab of breakneck, blackened rock ’n’ roll decadence for those who sin before breakfast and don’t look back.
Certainly not an album that’s going to warrant a track-by-track dissection, I instead urge you to put on your best ’fuck everything’ hat and let the depravity take control. Witchmaster play it dirty, gritty and with a complete disregard for absolutely everything. For those who find beauty in unrestrained chaos, then this is a band you’re going to want to hear. The coarse production suits the music perfectly, creating just the kind of sound that befits such a beast. The thrashy, rock ’n’ roll riffs flow as freely as the iniquity, while the drums switch between lightning fast blast beats and dominating rhythms.
It’s not exactly going to redefine music, but you know what? Fuck it. This is neither the time nor the place to be anything other than intoxicated and degenerate. ’Black Scum’ ends the 30 minute violation and I can’t think of a better moniker for Witchmaster’s music. This is one of the grittiest things I’ve ever heard. They must be spoiling for bonus points as well, as they throw in a brilliantly raw version of my favourite Sepultura song ’Troops of Doom’ for good measure.
Nothing this perverse, this depraved, this downright rock ’n’ roll, deserves a low score, especially when it’s as good as ’Trucizna’; the ultimate fix for those with an insatiable lust for music so blackened you can almost smell the charred bones. Do I see a bright future for Witchmaster? No, of course not. Their future lies in eternal fucking darkness, surrounded by Satan’s leather-clad minions. But I’m sure they wouldn’t have it any other way. This is the soundtrack to your most perverted head-fuck of a nightmare. Enjoy.