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Your Mind Crumbles...Rush To The Grave! - 85%

CHAIRTHROWER, June 10th, 2019
Written based on this version: 2019, Digital, Independent

"Jeesus itki!" Behold this here killer and fatally attractive Finnish "voimanpesä" (i.e. powerhouse) which motors on/slays by the ambiguously cryptic, if not outright jocose and obsidian, name of Black Palle whilst gruffly expunging calm and/or serene, placidly prim surroundings to a decidedly haranguing, not to mention vitriolic and amiably blasphemous, "rotten-zombie-like" albeit supple shuffle cadence (i.e. beat) liable to make your pet reindeer mewl in consternated submission (but I dig-ress, yo!).

Duly now, I envy those who've yet to lay ear drums down on the Helsinki uni-guitar quartet's ripping brand of jocular but oh-so-bellicose and rad, cranked-the-frig-out asseverations, fulminations and, hey, (skeleton key) castigations...

Just think - front ghoul Palle Wishbone and the gang effortlessly, as well as rampantly and celeritously, bring out the best of timeless heavy-hitting/digging/driving worthies such as fellow compact and rowdy countrymen Armour, Maryland's Earthride, Rob's White Zombie (think Astro-Creep 2000, bro) and last, but oh-so-not-least, a frantic yet fluid amalgam of Motörhead and Ecuador's Nightpröwler...OK, where the #%@$ is that ruefully waxy and decomposing, shriveling corpse emoj(i) already?!?

Mixing hard-hatted and steel-toed, upper mid tempo line-drive, fulminating guitar riffs - courtesy of Pastori Leif Kylliäinen - with a downright knockabout and plump rhythm section comprised of Igor Tanska on bass and K.T. Koivunen on drums while gruelingly helmed by Mr. Wishbone (he of the unruffled and excoriating, dapper vituperation), Black Palle wastes no time at all flaying the listener with the cranky raz-ma-taz bop n' jingle of opener "Death Comes To All, and thus, for three-quarters of an un-squandered, if not filibustering, hour of festively grim, at times slack and T-boned, raunchy musicianship splayed over a dozen worthy, albeit mildly congruous, humdingers.

Oddly, lead guitar is shrewdly yet sensibly deployed, notably early on in the release. For the most part, the piercingly vibrant, siren-affecting solos swoop in for a quick fix, or kill, before ceding the (sticky) floor back to the battery/riff machine. Elsewhere, "Leif" duly lets 'er rip, as he so poignantly, er, squelching-ly does on the spastically revved up and swinging, maybe even apocryphal, drug dirge, "Already Gone", in addition to "Stand As A King", which, incidentally, reminds me of an extrapolative, kick-ass, doctoring spin on the old Trouble hit-parader, "Black Shapes Of Doom". "Time to Die" also catchily imbues a tonka-truck load of wah-ish, "Wino"-styled pentatonic, diabolically trilling leads, with the insanely jocular and wry, Danzig-esque "And You Know The Rest", merrily trailing not far behind. Hurf! Check out its hilariously twisted refrain:

"The story is so familiar!
The girl meets a guy called Jack!
The story is so familiar
A girl meets a nice psychopath!

The girl meets a nice psychopath
(And you know the rest!)

The girl meets a nice...psycho!"

Ah...jolly, fun times!

Otherwise, expect to be diligently rocked beyond measure on sure-fire goomba stompers such as the stoically swaggering, hellfire n' brimstone, honky-tonk-y fuse-lighter "Gamb[o]ling With The Devil" - good luck vacating its neurotically seizing, however bland, chorus (and paroxysm inducing scrunch fest of an about-[clown]face) - or personal favorites, the markedly brooding and un-rushed, Earthride reminiscent "Nuclear Holocaust", on top of "Rush To The Grave", a kinetically spry as well as chthonic romp through wilted mausoleum gardens with legions of (stewy) cadavers lunging lunatic-ally about - a dually diagnosed Apollyonic luau, what! In fact, the former's indelibly sardonic, ruefully resigned groove begs and bleats its fair share of egregious returns, a slight, wizened as-all-get-(cl)out mini-lead withstanding.

The latter, however, with its dour rainfall and Wolf-evoking ecclesiastical bell tolling, is one for the dazes...not only is the grandly teetering main riff a real centrifugal (definitely not fugacious) treat for old knurled salts as myself, but the crowd-yawped chorus, again, as with Evening Star's "Mask of Lies" proper, simply makes one feel...ALIVE!

As a further, sarky-as-shit note, in regards to Black Palle's titular - as well as independently digital - full-length (released in January), I'm ever-so-grateful, alongside today's raucously gleaned Musta Käsi, by the similarly logo-ed Rotör (in addition to Angel Sword, Chevalier and Legionnaire), to fall back on such refreshingly invigor(y)ating Finnish trad/speed metal fare, as to rinse the taste out of my mouth after being subjected/subjugated to yet another notoriously turgid Onsite "sound bath"...ironically so, whence considering the band's meaning:

"Palla f (plural palle) ball. bullet, shot. testicle. (by extension) an arduous and/or boring undertaking or event."

(Ha! The red suspender-wearing, Satyr-like sordidly prancing and stinky sock sporting emoj snuggles itself in right here, albeit mordaciously!).