The Truth of What Will Be

From a purely historical perspective, it can get a bit dicey trying to discern where thrash metal ended and death metal began, at least when dealing with the more primordial forms of both that came raging into the American scene and elsewhere by the mid-1980s. It could be argued that both were pioneered simultaneously to some respect within the primeval sludge of certain more extreme adherents to the NWOBHM and various contemporary affiliates, though often times the earliest examples of either style would often blur the lines between the two. Though by the late 80s there seemed to be a clearer dividing line between the respective thrash and death metal scenes, there were still plenty of bands that refused to overtly stylize their sound into one or the other, thus giving birth to the death/thrash hybrid style that was arguably in existence since Possessed's Death Metal demo, yet wasn't full defined until a bit later. While the individual examples of this style that first emerged could largely be defined as death metal outfits with remnant thrash metal mannerisms (such as Solstice and Revenant), certain bands were clearly more clearly lodged within a thrash metal paradigm and were simply stumbling into a death metal aesthetic through an exaggerated level of aggression and dissonance incorporated into their songwriting.

Though perhaps the most auspicious examples of this trend didn't emerge until the twilight of the thrash metal scene's commercial presence in albums such as Demolition Hammer's Epidemic Of Violence and Sodom's Tapping The Vein, there was a fair share of this approach going on throughout the late 1980s, with San Francisco outfit Epidemic's often overlooked debut The Truth Of What Will Be being among the ranks of the criminally underrated. In essence, this album presents arguably the most nuanced and unique representation of an early death/thrash style, consisting of an instrumental performance that could be likened to Slayer's Reign In Blood on cocaine, yet also fairly reminiscent of the crossover elements and comical asides more readily associated with Nuclear Assault and Stormtroopers Of Death, not to mention a raunchy as hell distorted bass sound that brings a slight Carnivore element into the equation. Further augmenting this ambiguous mixture is Carl Fulli's harsh yet comparatively tempered shouts, which are maybe a tad nastier than Tom Araya or Jeff Becerra, but don't quite reach the level of extremity found in Morbid Saint's 1988 masterwork Spectrum Of Death or Attomica's 1987 eponymous debut. Yet with all of the overt death metal trappings, this California-based blip on the death/thrash radar is more suited to a thrash metal template, particularly when compared with the seminal late 80s offering that came out of the nascent Florida death scene.

The ebb and flow of unmitigated chaos and frenzied riffing madness that permeates the airwaves from one song to the next culminates in a highly diverse experience, despite eschewing any degree of atmospheric nuance in favor of a full blown impact-based bludgeoning sound. Things begin on a reasonably moderated note with an obligatory mid-paced introductory groove on "AMX", somewhat reminiscent of the simplicity heard on "March Of The S.O.D.", and the raging madness that ensues when the vocals chime in can be best described as a neck-destroying fit of semi-Slayer worship, occasionally peppered with brief guitar solo bursts that are similar in demeanor to the King/Hanneman sound, yet exaggerated almost to the point of preempting the Hoffman brothers. This mixture of chaos and more measured mid-paced crunching is what largely typifies the longer songs heard on here, such as "In Fear We Kill" and "Three Witches", taking on a formula somewhat comparable to the longer offerings on Reign In Blood but without the dreary atmospheric aesthetic. On the other hand, the sub-2 minute offerings that make up a little more than half of these songs are a fair bit more abrupt, with standouts like "Thigh Rubbage" and "Finer Things In Life" going in more of a comical direction lyrically, the former sounding almost like a bastard son of Nuclear Assault's "Hang The Pope" and S.O.D.'s "Pre-Menstrual Princess Blues" done in a Slayer-like manner.

All things being equal, this album's lack of exposure can probably be best explained as a result of weak distribution and promotion via the somewhat ironically named British thrash label Metalcore, though at the time this was likely less the case since much of thrash metal did dabble in the early exploits of the 80s hardcore scene, which was naturally a fair bit different from the infamous one that developed in New York during the 90s. The next two albums would see this issue remedied with a healthy degree of support via Metal Blade Records, though one would be remiss to say that this album had no role in helping Epidemic procure such a coveted label affiliation. It is a bit more geared towards a thrash metal fanatic's definition of metal than a death metal one, while their often lauded sophomore outing Decameron took things far more in the latter direction. This album ultimately proves to be the more unique of their offerings, and has a bit more of a rugged, working class charm to it that puts it in similar territory to the rawer and often less lauded early offerings heard out of the darker fringes of the Teutonic and Brazilian scenes, in fact, the production of this album bears a fairly similar vibe to Kreator's Endless Pain when discounting the massive distorted bass presence and occasional comic asides. Not all epidemics end up killing off great numbers instantaneously, though from a standpoint of sheer aggression, this California-born bug could wipe out a city in short order.