The Grinding Wheel

Few bands that came raging out of the heyday of 80s thrash metal can boast the level of competency and consistency that has been on display by Overkill since they first took the scene by storm in the mid-80s. If one were to go solely by total record sales, they fall a bit short of the media concocted Big 4 elite, but in terms of quality and quantity of output, they leave all of them in the dust with maybe the exception of Megadeth. All that being considered, like any veteran outfit that has been slogging away at the fine art of neck-ruining mayhem, there have been periods of denouement and resurgence going on within their 40 year history. Whether it was in response to the explosion of retro-thrash that was going on at the time or just their version of a mid-life crisis, something lit a fire under this band's ass at the close of the 2000s and what was ushered in with 2010's beast of an LP Ironbound was a decade of vertebrae-splitting heaviness and speed that has been showing the younger crowd how it's done ever since. The next two albums were born of a similar spirit of high octane thrashing with a modern edge, even as the original wave of 80s-throwback thrash revivalists had been tapering off a bit and giving way to something a bit darker and punchier thanks to the ascent of Power Trip and a few others.

This context betrays a slight pivot in focus that lies at the heart of The Grinding Wheel, Overkill's 18th full length studio offering, during the early weeks of 2017. In many respects it is an album that sticks to its guns, with classic late-80s thrash metal riffing painting over much of the songwriting and that more expansive, long-winded songwriting approach that occupied much of the early 2010s material and was toned down a tad on White Devil Armory back on display. Then again, it's pretty hard not to notice that the wild, frenetic moments that typified such riveting anthems from Ironbound such as the title track and "Bring Me The Night" are a bit less prevalent here and a greater helping of the pummeling grooves that graced Bloodletting and Killbox 13 are along for the ride. The overall presentation just has more of a gradual sense of building up to a climactic explosion rather than an instant, full on berserker charge, featuring longer songs that stick in the memory with their catchy, fist-to-the-gut demeanor fairly easily but take their time in getting to the absolute chaos. In the midst of it all is Blitz Ellsworth, continually raising his jagged, banshee-like voice to the heavens like a crazed warlock who hasn't aged a day in the past 40 years, with a well-tuned barrage of highly refined heaviness following close behind.

True to its name, this album kicks things off with the metallic, mid-paced chugging of a steel factory working overtime to get the track for this runaway train laid. In the same spirit as "The Green And Black" and "Come And Get It", the pummeling opening number "Mean, Green, Killing Machine" is among the longer and more developed compositions to grace this album, but it has more of a cold, industrialized character to how the riffs and rhythm section strike the airwaves, while Blitz's vocals find themselves occasionally channeling his cleaner and mid-ranged persona to develop a sense of contrast with his dominant, raving madman schtick. Then again, once arriving at the guitar solo this songs hits the afterburners something fierce, paving the way for more concise and kinetic speeders such as "Our Finest Hour", "The Wheel" and "Red White And Blue", all high octane crushers that definitely revert back to the frenzied brilliance of a couple albums prior. But even when moving into more of a lazy, Sabbath-inspired romp on "Come Heavy" and a largely mid-tempo crunch with a few faster moments and a haunting ballad-like interlude in "Shine On", there's a pretty clear pattern of hitting a fever pitch during the guitar solos, and this is where Dave Linsk, Overkill's longest serving shredder since Gustafson left the fold, really steals the show in all of his Skolnick meets Hammett glory.

If there has been a weak link in the otherwise unbreakable chain that has been Overkill's streak of 2010s releases, this would be the album, but it's definitely among the superior works that they've unleashed over their extensive and highly prolific career. It doesn't fully bang the head of the opposition clean off the way the last three albums did, nor does it commit fully to the groove paradigm and deliver the same degree of infectious hooks heard on Bloodletting and Killbox 13, but it definitely adopts the stronger traits of both eras and presents them in a well-rounded, methodical fashion. Individual longer cuts such as "The Grinding Wheel", "Mean, Green, Killing Machine" and "Goddamn Trouble" definitely qualify as essential listening for those hungry for the classic Overkill sound, and there aren't really any overt slouches to speak of among the rest of songs that round out the album. Everybody pulls their weight well, and while D.D. Verni's bass work has a fairly modest showing in the technical department, the brilliant glassy tone and aggressive manner in which he supports the riffs and drums is what gives this album it's thick, modern edge. It's hard-hitting thrash for those who crave it, and yet one more impressive notch in the ever-expanding Killbox.