Strappado

Whether you're a paraplegic, wheel-chair ridden, member of FEMA, or just brain-dead and moving your heart monitor, something is able to compensate for lack and thereof from an external source such as Strappado. 'My ear is dripping doctor.' 'Well...what have you been listening to, son?' Slaughter, yes, the band that would make Hellhammer look like they came second, and Slaughter came first, due to a primitiveness that rivals and begs for an Encino Man Part 2. Something so basic that it says we don't know how to properly play our instruments, so we'll even the playing field by manipulating, hammering and just out right demoralizing the traditional song-writing structure. Just about everything is in excess: a top of that, a pinch of this, a punch in the gut with that. Like skipping the list and steps of rules on the box and just going ahead and tossing ingredients into the mixing bowl. 'Now, now that's too much.' 'I'm hungry and I wanna eat!' At the time, I don't know if this group of jerks knew when over-indulging that they would still appeal to listeners—generation-plethora now—decades later with a brand of ravenous music that causes tempers to flare, blood pressure to boil, or out right bullying from even the weakest guy in the room who now has the confidence of a knee-hung NBA superstar when grossly applying his inner ear to Strappado.

When Canada's Slaughter originally put this out, Strappado was apparently only released behind the shroud of maple-leaves on the border, guarded by maple-syrup slurping eh-spouters, guarded against enlarged Americans, with each region carefully separated by baguettes; sounds yummy. These are the stereotypes that we have come to. Can't we just get along? Well, if later exports—hidden black secrets—would surface as a kind of paraphernalia to elevate conflict, then Strappado might be among the very few that have broken through the red-tape of controversy. Death-thrash is one of the main products here, including a side that fairs with hardcore, or punk taken with human growth hormone to create a bulky, or P.U.M.P.E.D., appearance. Some of the repeated structure is evident or even directly borrowed from something like Discharge's Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing. Some songs have more riffs per square inch, but others might repeat themselves and include different vocals or a solo overtop to add varying structure. Deep rough-house vocals from Dave Hewson would lend a few pre-thick death metal antics that we would know a few years later more fluently. Downtuned guitars, though with a stifled thickness, are just as common now as a mop on top of a metal-head's dome. Except all done with slim production value and with limited takes to boot (no pun intended).

There's a rhyming scheme here that is used to the benefit of some songs where alternate and couplet versing is used. There's still that slightly lingering musical medium, acting as a kind of glue among the unglued. Some sections are said in a fast enough fashion that it might go unnoticed, as well as others counter that and are used with an accented pronunciation at the end and captures a sort of narration with a bleak resolve. A small inconsequential line that is a painful sight-for-the-sore-ear, yet happens to be a needle-in-a-hay-stack compared to the others is: "They fed upon semen, the governments a demon." Though this is compared with one that works towards being justifiably distasteful: "...naked cadaver, ready to mount, open the mouth, go down for the count."

With songs dedicated to "Leeches everywhere, (the movie) Poltergeist, (the book) A History of Torture, and Charles Manson" Terry Sadler was a neighborly lyricist who knew how to perfectly captivate our burning, hateful hearts. Except Dave Hewson's vocals knew how to overpower and lead the recording more viciously. Sadler's voice is only on a few songs in leading position and Hewson's are in leading fashion for the majority of the recording. They switch up who mainly vocalizes and only in select moments add a lead/back-up set-up. Sadler has a tinier voice, although with more spunk, but not as much a commanding presentation. I still like how he projects himself in certain areas with some attitude, yet using a mostly higher tone, but still with a somewhat rough and manipulated voice. These still aren't singing attempts however. Hewson displays a burly enough voice that you probably wouldn't want to insinuate a fight even just talking over the phone. He uses a deep, almost one-tone, not growled but used with a throaty technique—the laryngitis of vocalizing. When going with a faster section, he might use a speedier method and an easier to understand gruff by comparison to the mid-paced sections. The best part about them is his excessive diaphragm upstarts. The kind that steams and drips with testosterone and emulates an unhealthy amount of Mr. T. Warrior. Mostly they are in the beginning of a guitar start-up, yet in other areas he'll add them like the tic of a Tourette's infliction, and placed in somewhat random areas and just outright ruling though not making total sense.

Strappado uses a decent amount of mid-sections as it does use some faster thrash moments. Blasts didn't make it due to this being recorded in the beginning of '86 and from some earlier year material from demos. This doesn't leave out Sumners from socking it to his snare; pounding it with force instead of outrageous speed. Following along a Dave Lombardo line of thought, who was also a hard-hitter by drumming standards. Sumners is actually a proficient drummer, using tom hits and mini-rolls rather than full rolls, but most importantly changing it up enough to add a moving element to the album where it should be moving.

Some tracks might use a similar pace all the way through, for instance 'F.O.D.' will use a mid, bordering on slower, paced structure and a similar crushing riff for the duration of the song; a track that is bare-bones even by primitive standards and yet still great for re-listens. 'The Curse' is a steady thrash song with a simplistic, repeated riff that works due to Hewson overtop taking the reins of the momentum. A good example of a flip-out song structure here is the fifth track, 'Parasites,' which starts out like it could be F.O.D. part II, and then goes into its own riff. It has a moderate pace and then abruptly adds a guitar line that probably has nothing to do with the initial one, which has the song create its own identity and stick out. Like taking a stroll in an already bad neighborhood, and something rustles and actually pops out of the bushes, which can make the situation even more nerve-wracking and remembered at the back of your mind when coming across it again. Done in the same recording sessions, but stuck at the end of the earlier and later re-releases for longer time length for the album, 'One Foot in the Grave' is another that begins somewhat unimposing, with a punkish sounding rhythm and then another flip-out moment as Hewson rapidly says the Plasmatics coined (think 'Masterplan') "one, two, fuck you" to break into heart-exploding energy as the song reaches break-neck speeds.

There are some solos scattered about. These aren't all over the place like they are on Slayer's Reign in Blood for a comparative sense. Though he man-handles the whammy bar and produces chaotic eruptions none the less. Somehow they sound fitting even though you know they aren't scaled or in key. But ultimately it seems to add to the brashness here. The guitars should be of no surprise and are just as simplistic as the other heckling instruments. He might use more of an out-of-control punk structure of only a few simplistic strummed-out chords when faster, and a weighted amount of palm mutes when mid-paced. A lot of the notes seem to be within the deepest of notes, the thickest of areas on the neck of the guitar, sometimes hardly even moving his fingers far and to. What's the need to, when the material manages to be this outrageous and heavy?

Canada's Slaughter brings about a recording that was against the grain for its time and is still now capable of bringing metal heads into a comatose from so much unhindered excitement. Even in production, Strappado is a rougher and granular version of some of the more accessible material to come out then, and this is even referring to the remixed and remastered CD version from '93 on Diabolic Force. Although I'm not sure how it sounds compared to the earlier, or the editions in the millennium but I can imagine it is identical to this last one. This definitely gives it a raw and natural feel and it wouldn't be the same without it. Like a guy behind a mixing board and a step above the musicians right there playing live through your speakers. The amount of bass and thickness that was involved is a great addition too. Probably them maxing out whatever their amps and settings were capable of at the time. Granted it is somewhat stifled in areas and not the same or as distinct as some of the recordings with this feature from even the early 90s or even now. Yet, it is something that ultimately still holds up, and paved ways in extreme metal for the ones that had originals or even dubs in their possession from tape trading at the time.

This is either going to be considered noise or music by whichever thinking-camp you come from, yet it was something that made impressions through atmosphere and bluntness. This could even bring about unintentional humor from someone who still listens to or at least knows in-your-face metal, because some moments are in excess. Yet in the same sense, it could break someone's nerve who is the everyday stern-faced clean-and-cut music type. This still finds itself at a mode that could of been deemed too amateur to see the light of day, too unbalanced to be worthwhile. Yet, it does have these things included, and probably has no shame at doing so to begin with, though bringing that raw and also creative power to the table. Like the new machine with even more unpractical horsepower but giving that new and unexperienced part of your brain, that sends shock-waves down your spine, a long time buddy to play with.