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Addictive > Pity of Man > 1989, CD, Rattlesnake > Reviews > Diamhea
Addictive - Pity of Man

Riffs are soaring all around. - 90%

Diamhea, August 26th, 2014
Written based on this version: 1989, CD, Rattlesnake

Straight out of the nether reaches of your closet comes Addictive, Australia's premier forgotten thrash export. I wonder how many people have even heard about this band outside of the Mortal Sin connection, let alone experienced their output. Coming to fruition in '88 and finding themselves within a revolving door of seemingly small-time imprints like Rattlesnake and Survival, the window with which to make an impact was looming large right from the start. I can't go into too much historical detail without devolving into conjecture, but I have heard the band's sophomore release Kick 'Em Hard, which is rather ironically titled, as these guys take a huge swath of their influence from violent Bay Area exports like (early) Metallica and Dark Angel. Throw in a touch of Testament's genre-expanding proclivities and you wouldn't land too far from where Pity of Man makes its indignant home.

Worth noting right away is that there are two versions of this record floating around. The Rattlesnake and Divebomb pressings feature a rather prototypical, cluttered early '90s collage, while the Survival version is just something entirely different. The alternate artwork is like Night on Bröcken bad, or even worse. No idea how many potential ears were shied away based on the cover art alone, and it is a damn shame, as there is a lot of concrete-cracking zest to be found within the vile sluices that run in and out of Addictive's formula on this one. This is vicious, riff driven thrash with a keen ear for the melodic interval, all punctuated by Greg Smith's fifth-of-Jack-a-day radiation of venom that can be loosely defined as vocals. He sort of swings back and forth between more traditional barking and efforts of a more melodic nature which aren't too far removed from Ron Rinehart's later output. The mix is really boomy and accentuates the leads and vocals, which works in Pity of Man's favor in most instances, as Smith can really let loose a blistering array of syllables in breakneck fashion. Contrasting this are more tortured shrieks on tracks like "My Foe," which really add a great atmospheric edge and help keep variety from becoming a premium.

Even more impressive is the expanded instrumental effort that is "The Forge," which is one of the better examples of riff soup that I have ever experienced. It sounds exactly like the band just took all of the leftover ideas and pieced them together in a patchwork of little congruence, but man these riffs just slay. Grooving, more bulldozer-esque sections give way to a number of isolated solos and occasional bursts of tempo. The song is a rather slow burner on the whole, but totally worth a listen even without Smith commanding the helm. The remaining nine tracks are rather succinct slabs of fiendish energy, but not necessary atonal. As stated above, Buttigieg and Sultana have a great melodic ear when it comes to leads and especially solos, and the occasional acoustic passage like the one featured on "Calm Before the Storm" helps keeps everything sounding fresh.

The rhythm section itself sounds like a time capsule from the period within this album was released. Just like The Years of Decay and a number of other thrash records released during this waning years, the bass and drums sound very pluggy and snappy. As far as the bass is concerned, this fits Smith's free-form style fairly well, but I can't bash the production values too much on this one. It does what it sets out to do, which is shred your anus. And hey, my anus hath been sufficiently shredded. Kudos to Divebomb for reissuing this forgotten classic after nearly 25 years in the shadows. If you dig the frantic, tense energy that helped solidify thrash's foothold on the collective metal mind of the time, give Pity of Man a whirl, you'll dig it.