What we've basically got is an ex member of Napalm Death(Justin Broadrick) teaming up with bassist Christian Green and a drum machine to produce songs about how shit the late 80's were and how cool and dark serial killers are. Nothing new then, but there is something intriguingly different about this album. From the opener, Like Rats, Godflesh set an agenda which is widely different from anything metal had seen before. Firstly and crucially they don't really care about guitar riffs. Instead the guitar is kept low in the mix while the bass and drums take over leaving a small wailing sound that gives the album a sound not unlike the workings of a large car manufacturing plant. The vocals are neither death metal grunting, hardcore shouting or pure metal singing but a hybrid of all three.

From here on comes the bludgeoning power of Christ Bait mixed with the bleak openness of tracks like Mighty Trust Krusher and Dream Long Dead. Indeed the album could never be described as heavy but just like Neurosis, Godflesh rely on a completely different approach to beat you into submission. They're more interested in painting their music to be a landscape covered in disused factories and rusting hulks of human failure rather than a monster waiting to pounce at you from the dark. In fact this album is probably more likely to annoy your non metal friends than anything Cannibal Corpse or Deicide can come up with.

The album continues its hookless trudging through 11 tracks of bare mechanical screams throwing in a sample of a serial killer for good measure on the title track. Then comes 4 considerably more up beat extra tracks which develop Godflesh's use of melody on tracks like Dead Head and Tiny Tears. Probably the stand out track on the album is the welding together of Devastator and Mighty Trust Krusher with the first being samples of arguments and shouting with lines such as "Come on do it officer" played over a wall of drum sounds. This is all set in context when Justin starts singing that "There has to be someone killed" producing possibly one of the bleakest musical moments this side of Christmas Number Ones. Then Mighty Trust Krusher kicks in with its wailing repetitive guitar noise and its chorus of "Effortless" being constantly forced down your throat, and your journey to the dark side is complete.

So what does this mean in terms of you spending your hard earned money on the album. Well from a musical stand point the album is far from uplifting. It is not going to make you happy and will never be an album that can be played at your wedding or other joyous occasions. You will never sing any of it in the shower and will never sit down with your guitar to try and work out that cool riff that you can impress your mates with. On the other hand if your looking for real misery then the next logical step from My Dying Bride et al is this. Plus you can put the album on, sit back and play look where Fear Factory and Sepultura nicked some ideas from. A word of warning, if you are or have been inclined to kill yourself or others, then maybe this is not the kind of stuff you should be listening too.

Rating: 7/10

The glam bands are gone and therefore Death Metal has lost its purpose. In those distant days bands like Obituary were laying down the heaviest most brutal sounds around and their involvement in discrediting and eventually annihilating bands such as Tiger Tailz should never be underestimated. Sure grunge was taking hold of the imagination of the new kids coming into heavy music but there was a burgeoning underground which included myself which was swept up in the extremity of the Death Metal scene.

However now that the task is over Death Metal has in the main been unable to take the next step forward and instead bands like Machine Head have skipped the queue and taken all the praise. But now Obituary are back with a live album which contains all their classics(?) and are ready to show all the new kids out there that their brand of Death Metal is far from over.

From the opener, Download, Obituary's agenda is set. This band are heavy but have an abundance of quality riffs to ensure that things never get stale. Never scared to slow things down to a crawl, Obituary could be classed as Death Metal's version of Black Sabbath. If anything's held them back over the years its been John Tardy's incomprehensible screams seething over the top of the music. Sure, songs like Dying and Slowly We Rot could hardly be classed as sing along style songs but somehow I think that they'd lose something without Tardy's scream, which by the way is the most original death metal voice out there. Highlights include the punky Threatening Skies and the stompy groove fest Don't Care. Songs like Kill For Me and Turned Inside Out are a blueprint for how Death Metal should really be done with frightening ferocity but a shrewd use of melody.

Quite frankly this is more like a compilation album than a live album and without the cheers between songs and the occasional incomprehensible statement from John Tardy it would be easy to forget the fact that it is a live recording. If anything this album does emphasis Obituary's flaws in that they haven't changed much over their five albums but I think this could be a good way of summing up those early years leaving the band room to move into new directions. Dead (live) is unlikely to bring new fans to the band, although there is little out there just now to match this intensity, but older fans may be reinvigorated after the slight disappointment of Back From The Dead. Death Metal may be dead but its rotting very slowly indeed.

Rating: 7/10

Waylander are made up of  the traditional metal line-up of guitar, bass and drums along with a tin whistler (and bodhran player -- a bodhran being a traditional war drum. If  I'm right, I can hear something that sounds like a kettle drum in the album; it's either the bodhran, or they borrowed a kettle drum in the studio and something else is the bodhran) and a death-grunting vocalist.

"OK, enough of this ethnic gibberish are they any good?" I hear you ask (telepathically AND psychically, of course,  as you're not going to read this for a week or two). Well, yeah I think this is a really good first album. The boys have translated Irish fiddle tunes to the electric guitar and made them  rock really hard. Celtic music has always rocked, how else do you keep warm in the long cold winters of Northern Europe? Fast dancable toe-tapping music and lots of drink and dancing. This is me speaking as a Highlander who's never been to an authentic traditional ceilidh (that wasn't a school dance or something) in my life; it's quite funny. Sorry, I've slipped into ethnic mode.

Let's get back to the music. There are basically two moods to this album and they are fast heavy and agressive with death grunting vocals and mental giutar riiffs and whistling; and more slow and thoughtful, often sad,  with Ciaran swapping the death-grunt for clean vocals. The mix and structuring of  these moods (often within the same song) works really well, alternately impressing the listener with still timeless beauty and riling him/her up into the agrression of a warrior (the heavy sections are much heavier than you'd ever imagine a Celtic metal band to be -- this ain't bloody Runrig). This is an album dripping with emotion: love for ones homeland, anger and sadness at the marginalisation of ones culture, and, of course, the fun to be had from a good hard mosh.

The only things I have against this album are the quality of the production ( I think a little more time and money could have been spent on getting the mix perfect) and Ciaran's slighly wobbly vocals in the more lyrical parts (I'm sure they will improve with a little more practice and confidence).

All in all, this is a bloomin' good album with something non-generic and honest to offer. Add a little texture to your album collection and buy it!

So to the new opus, Gallery of Suicide. Massive alarm bells started to ring when the track listing dredged out 14 songs with titles such as "Dismembered and Molested" and "Every Bone Broken". It looks as though the Corpse have not chosen to change much then. Further investigation of the inlay card produced a simply horrific discovery. You know how most bands have credits for music and lyrics, such as music: Hetfield/Ulrich. Well Cannibal Corpse have taken this a stage further and added the little known credit of Vocal Patterns. In other words the band wrote a bunch of heavy music and threw in some singing over the top. No melody lines, but instead vocal patterns. And deary me, Paul Mazurkiewcz, the drummer, has come up with some of these vocal patterns. No offence to drummers but Cannibal Corpse at the best of times are not well respected for their tunefulness, and the image of their drummer sitting down trying to work out how to fit the words "Stabbed in the Throat" over a wall of noise didn't fill me with anticipation.

I'd like to say that I was wrong. The album is a blinding return to form from a sorely missed band and Chris Barnes may as well be best forgotten. I'd like to say that but I would be blatantly lying. You see this album is a pile of crap and no amount of sick titles and blood curdling screams is going to change that. First track, 'I Will Kill You', screams out the speakers and promptly falls to the floors as a mass of tangled limbs and maggot infested cheese( Try putting that to music Paul). Like a gorilla with a sledge hammer Cannibal Corpse precede to blunder about wildly with no sense of direction and with a belief that they can destroy everything. Little do they know that there's a man around the corner with a tranquilliser gun who they call musical progression. Throughout the 14 tracks on offer only the title track shows any sign of musical progress, but I'd hardly call ripping off the intro to Season's In the Abyss and then reverting to the same old hackneyed Death Metal a cause for celebration. It really is a shame but Cannibal Corpse have lost their way. Oh and by the way, the lyrics do just sound as if they've been carelessly thrown over the top of the music. And here was me thinking that Death Metal may be going through a revival. Doh!

Rating: **********

However I do appreciate that this is only my opinion and as I'm a generous soul I'm putting up the album as a competition prize. Simply e-mail the answers to the following question to the normal address.

Through the mean streets of Glasgow, I mosied towards the Attitude HQ, and some things hadn't changed. Kids still either pointed & laughed, or hid behind their parents as I approached. I didn't care. I reached into the pocket of my leather, and found another old acquaintance... my shades. At last! I had missed them so much. For so long, my self-esteem had been taking a battering at the hands of jeers & jibes from the Glaswegian ned culture. Not any more. A leather jacket is only half the story... and I held the other half in my hand. I put them on, and for the first time in years I was truly invincible. Round frames with reflective lenses. It just makes my entire image look all the more intimidating. Now, no-one who dared make fun of me would see the daggers I drew for them in my eyes. They wouldn't know, or understand, the complete disdain I had for them. Nothing could harm me now...

I strode into the Attitude offices, full of recently restored confidence and with a slight swagger. The Ed watched me open-mouthed, as I marched through the door. "Jesus man, you look like something from the Eighties!" was what I could make him out to say inbetween the laughter. "That's because I AM something from the eighties", I deadpanned back at him. "When you're not so busy splitting your sides, may I ask if you have anything to review for me?". He almost choked where he was sitting. "What's up, pardner, the problem page not enough for you?", he sneered. "Everyone knows that no-one writes to it anyway...". I took a cigarette from my pack, lit it, took a long drag and exhaled over the 'No Smoking' sign on his desk. This time, I wasn't in the mood to mess around. I leaned closer to the Attitude Ed, and my eyes narrowed as I began to see a slight hint of fear in his face. "Either there's something you want me to review, or not. The sooner you answer, the sooner I can be on my way... I've things to see & people to do...".

The Ed started feverishly looking through the In-tray. "I'm sure something came in today from SPV. As soon as I saw it, I thought of you, Iceman...". He slid a CD across the desk to me. I glanced down at it... Snake Bite Love by Motörhead. I began to think he was now taking the piss... "You KNOW I don't care much for CD's!!!", I barked at him. "Tape it to cassette for me, I'll be back in an hour", and I stormed out of the office. The Editor drew his breath, and murmured "No one else WANTED to review it anyway..."

A lot of young pups seem to think that Motörhead aren't relevant anymore (and THEY still see Iron Maiden as a major player in Metal!!). Absolute BOLLOCKS, I say. Like Eddie & Co, bands like Motörhead have a special place in the music scene. Have you ever visited a major town/city for the first time, and don't know your way around? You ever wandered the streets with an townmap not knowing if you're in a rough area or not? Then what usually happens...? You find a McDonalds in the midst of it all, and suddenly, the strange place you're in doesn't seem quite so strange anymore. It's as if you've suddenly found a friend you lost touch with, when you're sightseeing on holiday. THAT'S the effect Motörhead have on the soul.

To date, I'd say their best album would have to be "Bastards" from a few years back. It showed a different side to Lemmy & Co. Rougher, heavier & dirtier than any previous 'Head release before it, it took the gang to a new level. Reminding young upstarts like Machine Head that Motörhead was where it all started from.

Since then though, Lemmy has shoved away the title of "The Godfather of Thrash", in favour of doing what comes naturally to him... straight-forward bluesy rock 'n roll, with added distortion! The new release, "Snake Bite Love" is exactly everything you'd expect from a Motörhead LP. Jeez, they may as well copyright the entire FEEL of any of their songs, and it'll be the same through their whole back catalogue. From the first bars of opener "Love for Sale", only a blonde wouldn't be able to tell you it's Motörhead. Should Mulder & Scully finally make contact with aliens, I dare say they'll have a Motörhead CD in their collection on board the mothership.

"Take the Blame" almost caught me off guard, though. There's this one line that goes; "That's the way they like it, they can shove it in their ear". Now, when I first heard the first part of that line (That's the way they like it...), the pause is identical to a certain Motörhead song from years before, prompting me to automatically respond with; ...baby I don't wanna live FOREVAHHHHHHH. Such is the power of "Ace Of Spades" after all these years.

A lot of fuss has been made about "Dead & Gone". For the most part of the song it's kind of ballady, with Lemmy twintracking his vocals so he actaully harmonizes too! Yep, hard to believe, I know... but with great results. Then again, Lemmy's been quoted as saying "Every Motorhead song's a ballad"...!?!

All the stuff I've wrote at the top of this review is to give those who don't know, an idea of what being a metalhead is all about. A good leather jacket, a great pair of shades, and a certain attitude. All this would be reinforced by having ANY Motörhead LP on your personal stereo as an optional extra. In a rock world full of hyped up crap and third-rate copies (Korn/Marilyn Manson, guilty as charged) it's refreshing to know that Lemmy is still grafting away after 23 years. He might not sell as many records as some of the latest flavours-of-the-month, but at least he doesn't mime onstage, try to get publicity through an alleged "dodgy" reputation, or disrespect his peer & equals. If honesty in a band paid well, Motörhead would have outstripped Jovi by now. Lemmy has, and always will perform for the love of music, not for the money (they never make any!). For this fact alone, Motörhead should be legendary & Lemmy made a saint.

Basically, "Jugulator" is Judas Priest's interpretation of modern metal. Heaven help us all. It's both musically and lyrically dull and unimaginative,and completely unintentionally hilarious right down to the silly moody photos of the old codgers in the inlay (it's just not that funny knowing it's your task and duty to listen to it the whole way through). Judas Priest have definitely lost the plot with lines like "It's not very nice in the electric chair" (Ooh, how perceptive!). Methinks basket-weaving may be a better pastime for these aged individuals.