Lamb of God

Some bands never quite find their signature sound or style. They migrate across genres, hang out on the corner of "Trendy" and "What's Popular Right Now" and ultimately fade into obscurity for failing to cement their place in the fickle, music-buying public's consciousness due to lack of definitiveness. Virginia metal band Lamb of God is one of those bands that doesn't ever stray too far from their patented, crunch-metal sound. They don't experiment or veer off the path that has garnered them a sizeable audience. They stay the course, churning out riffs that could put hair on your chest and make your eyeballs burst simultaneously, which are complemented by the somewhat poetic, drill sergeant-style barks of frontman D. Randall Blythe, on Wrath, the quintet's third album for major label Epic Records. Lamb of God have found their niche, and they explore it to the fullest. While many bands either try too hard to shake things up and others grow stale by refusing to evolve, Lamb of God remain fresh simply by delivering quality goods, every single fucking time!

Surprisingly, the band tucks the best songs deep within the recesses of Wrath. The anthemic "Broken Hands" and "Set to Fail" come later in the record and pummel with the technical precision and blunt force of Willie Adler's and Mark Morton's potent, noisy guitar work. "Contractor" may be a cuss-laden rant, but it still impacts like a series of punches to the ribs. The band isn't trying anything new or taking any calculated risks, but most metalheads don't even want them to; they're happy to bang their heads to the urgent riffery, which is popped off like rounds of relentless ammo in a war zone. Blythe probably gargled with a shattered glass and acid cocktail before laying down his tracks, because he spits his words with unparalleled venom. This style is not something fans haven't heard on previous LOG efforts, but the intensity hasn't dipped one iota. That's what keeps LOG relevant and brutal in one fell swoop.

Southern fried, semi-melodic metal is the house that the iconic Pantera built. Lamb of God are poised to take over the deed to that piece of real estate with Wrath.

— Amy Sciarretto<
02.19.09

Lamb of God's follow-up to 2006's exceptionally brutal Sacrament returns the Virginia-based heavy metal outfit to the political soapbox that framed 2004's Ashes of the Wake. While Sacrament positioned itself firmly in the metalcore section of fan playlists, 2009's Wrath wraps itself in a relentless firestorm of Bay Area thrash. Despite a promising, heavily melodic instrumental intro ("The Passing") that fuses Black Album-era Metallica with the sonic artistry of Agalloch, Wrath ultimately descends into a black abyss of atonal riffing, machine-gun drumming, and forgettable lyrics peppered with clichéd metal outrage that stirs up a mighty storm, but no carnage. Wrath's production is as aggressive as ever (thanks to longtime LOG colleague Josh Wilbur), but so is nearly every major label alt/death/black/grindcore release in the 21st century -- all it takes is a few good choruses to separate a band from the herd, something that Lamb of God have done in the past, but not so this time around. The band does occasionally step outside of its comfort zone ("Grace" lives up to its name with some truly inspired early and midsong guitar work, while "Reclamation" mines epic, Sabotage-era Black Sabbath), and there's no denying the sheer "angry basement workout/summer garage weightlifting" potential that Wrath's perfectly acceptable 45-minute running time offers, but without a single hook that sticks around long enough to reel in the fish, all you've got is bait. ~ James Christopher Monger, Rovi