WRAITH

Eternally damned and relentlessly filthy, blackened thrash is metal at its purest and most unapologetic. WRAITH have been experts at it since their debut, self-titled EP, which crawled into underground ears back in 2017. Now, after three increasingly impressive studio albums, the Indiana quartet seem to have reached Peak Filth. With the same mad-eyed steeliness and meticulous attention to grotesque, old-school detail that powers the likes of MIDNIGHT, HELLRIPPER, DEVASTATOR and BEWITCHER, these diehards have always sounded like the real deal, but on "Fueled By Fire" they surpass their previous efforts with ease.

WRAITH are proudly and firmly entrenched in blackened swamps. This is the ugly, abrasive thrash and scabby old-school metal of VENOM, TANK and (early) BATHORY, but informed by several decades of like-minded grimness. Roughly divided between fast, furious punk-metal ragers; frosty, mid-paced hammer attacks and turbocharged, LEMMY-saluting piledrivers, this is an almost comprehensive guide to the filthiest metal there is. Plus, and this is the really good news, WRAITH are intuitive songwriters with a real love and understanding of their chosen subgenre. As with 2021's "Undo the Chains", this is diverse and dynamic, despite its myopic stylistic intentions, but unlike its predecessor, "Fueled by Fire" feels like a crafted, curated collection, with a beginning, middle and end. Strong echoes of the classic thrash albums of the '80s are, of course, purely deliberate.

It begins as it means to proceed. Instrumental opener "Asylum" is undiluted, dirty thrash, hewn from the most traditional elements, and spewed back out with a thick coating of obsidian spite. The title track follows and makes it obvious that WRAITH have clicked into a higher gear this time around. The riffs tower and torment with SLAYER-like authority, as a torrent of infernal effluent bubbles up, giving frontman Matt Sokol something treacly and obnoxious upon which to unleash his barbarous threats. A perfect storm of great riffs, killer vocals and feral, black-hearted atmosphere, it may make you want to drive your car into a wall. Therein lies the real magic here: "Fueled by Fear" is an album of wired and war-hungry blackthrash bangers with dynamic peaks and valleys and an unstated but abundantly plain policy of leaving everything drenched in caustic vomit and strangled with bloody guitar strings.

There are songs that lean heavily into the more bombastic, metal side of WRAITH's churning creative core: "Shame in Suffering" and "Shattered Sorrow" are both fine amalgams of black metal eeriness and putrid, leather-clad punk malevolence. "Warlord" slows the pace down to a blank-eyed, pitiless grind that reeks of Norwegian forests. But the sharpest blows come from the all-out, runaway train madness of songs like "Merchant of Death", "Ice Cold Bitch" and "Truth Decay", which sound like what would happen if "Kill 'Em All" was given a backstreet lobotomy, a big bag of speed and a clawhammer. For those who prefer their thrash to be enthusiastically blackened prior to consumption, WRAITH are getting everything right.