Dead Is Dead

It's a foregone conclusion that any band that opened for Slayer during their ascent to helping establish the most extreme fringe of metal in the 80s is going to be anything but a slouch in the intensity department. However, the power thrashing madness that is Mersinary is one with a very clear method to it, and it's one that is fairly different from where said dark edge of the Big 4 of thrash was even in their earliest incarnation. To state that this Vegas-based outfit were looking to be the most over-the-top thing in the world of melodic thrash would be an understatement, as their 1988 LP Dead Is Dead boasted some of the most blinding anthems to fly under the late 80s radar, challenging a lot of the bigger names that were exploring the same basic niche of serious lyrical subjects told above exaggerated, borderline neurotic vocal and musical performances.

If there is a way to truly sum up what this band represents, it would be as the mutant offspring of a three-way between Flotsam & Jetsam, Agent Steel and Toxik. They lack the overt Iron Maiden tendencies of the former, and they're presentation is perhaps a tad less quirky than either of the latter two, but between the glass-shattering, gender-defying high shrieks of Kirk "Ice" Scott and the hyper-busy work of each instrumentalist at his back, the aforementioned mainstays of thrashing USPM are the most synonymous ones that could be referenced. Even when counting their somewhat sloppier delivery, having a sort of punk rock tinge to the equation that leans them every so slightly closer to the heavier thrash bands of the Bay Area than said bands, this thing often finds itself echoing the hyper-speed madness of World Circus and Skeptics Apocalypse more so than not.

The ebb and flow of this album can best be described as one of the most jarring affairs to come out of the 80s, as generally mid-paced crushers will immediately be chased with something fast enough to even make John Cyriis' head spin. One the more thrash-centered side of the equation is a maddened beast of a title song "Dead Is Dead", which is also chock full of creepy dissonant lead guitar fills and church organ passages like something out of a slasher flick soundtrack and some of the wildest guitar soloing ever conceived. More conventional thrashers like "Front Page" and "Torn Apart" are equally crazy, but maybe a tad less theatrical apart from the King Diamond-like falsettos streaming out of Scott's pipes, while "Hunt You Down" offers up a bit more of an early Overkill vibe. Even when things slow down a bit for the creeping slow-paced "The Pendulum", the exaggerated character of this band remains undeterred.

While maybe just a tad shy of being an undisputed classic that could hope to rival the likes of Doomsday For The Deceiver and World Circus, this is one of those albums that any self-respecting fan of said classics will want to hear, as it matches both of them in terms of intensity and is only really held back by an uneven production and a somewhat sloppy delivery. Then again, a bit part of what makes this album work is how it manages to be wildly technical to the point of being out of the purview of any punk rock offering, yet it revels in the same sort of rustic charm that one might come to expect from a typical crossover album. It's a testament as to why the 80s was such a great time for metal, and why all that the scene has come to be owes its existence to the strides made in said decade.