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Thrash is a genre that found its identity early and stayed the course for decades. It’s metal’s foremost ain’t-broke-so-don’t-fix it genre, producing heavy music’s biggest bands not named Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden.
You’ll find some truly under-the-radar masterworks here, from Southern California crossover thrash to doomy castle thrash from the UK.
This brilliance could’ve only been achieved by teenagers. Released a full year before Suicidal Tendencies crossed over with Join the Army, Cryptic Slaughter‘s Convicted pushed the boundaries of speed and aggression while addressing the Reagan era of American politics. Convicted is a crossover thrash masterpiece with an unbelievable drum sound and the most caffeinated vocals ever committed to tape.
Technically this is just a demo tape, but Soothsayer‘s To Be a Real Terrorist is some of the wildest thrash you’ll ever hear. Hailing from Quebec, Canada, Soothsayer made Slayer sound like the Allman Brothers. This demo is just straight-up howling, scatter-brained sonic attacks and a guitar tone so good it only could’ve been captured by accident.
In the year 2000, the thrash renaissance was beginning to gain steam. Testament had just released the god-tier The Gathering, The Haunted had just hit the scene, and Kreator‘s Violent Revolution was right around the corner. In the midst of it all was Swedish thrashers Hypnosia, who unleashed their sole album, Extreme Hatred, then broke the fuck up. This album is so insanely slept on, and it’s everything great about 2000s European thrash in 35 minutes.
It’s time to truly speak of Steve Grimmett as one of metal’s great vocalists. The Grim Reaper legend only did one album with Onslaught — 1989’s In Search of Sanity. Sy Keeler‘s more primitive, wailing voice was awesome on The Force, but Grimmett possessed such cool sophistication in his pipes. In Search of Sanity is simply a phenomenal crossroads between NWOBHM and thrash.
How can one band be so silly yet thrash so hard? Over 40 years, the Kings of Beer have quietly compiled one of thrash’s most consistent discographies, with 2004’s Beast of Bourbon standing up as one of their finest efforts. Germany’s finest stein-fillers bounce from drunken anthems to killer wartime cuts like it’s nothing… then a song about committing genocide against an alien race because one of those ET fuckers stole Tankard‘s beer.
Better than Agent Orange? ’90s thrash was at its best when it was unapologetically brutal, and Tapping the Vein is one of the decade’s heaviest thrash records. That chromatic guitar part in “Skinned Alive” is such an ear worm, followed by an epic tapping solo that somehow sounds like a round of airstrikes. This is apocalyptic even for Sodom.
Lich King isn’t your typical thrash band. The guitar work doesn’t always follow the thrash playbook, the drums aren’t afraid to go off-beat, and the whole vibe often drifts into power metal or prog territory. That’s ultimately what makes Born of the Bomb a peak 2010s thrash album. Lich King give you no idea what’s coming next, and Born of the Bomb is a ripping collection of left-hand turns.
Cyclone Temple‘s vocalist sounds like Philip Anselmo went through a Dave Mustaine phase… in the best possible way. Released on the immortal Combat Records, Cyclone Temple‘s I Hate Therefore I Am is a vastly underrated ’90s thrash ripper. The guitar work on this album is fucking massive. The riffing is truly Mustaine-like — so tightly in the pocket with constant rhythmic shifts. Hails to Greg Fulton.
This band went so fucking hard, you guys. Before the masterfully written and highly polished By Inheritance, Denmark’s Artillery released Terror Squad, a raw riff feast that’s more unhinged than its album art. The constant sonic barrage pales only to its wild lyrics, which range from anti-religious to anti-government to anti-attractive people. They’re still releasing great albums too. Check out 2021’s X if you don’t believe us.
It’s doomy, it’s deathy, it’s thrashy, it’s got hardcore grooves. Cerebral Fix‘s 1990 sophomore album was pretty ahead of its time, sounding like if Power Trip swapped their Southern swag for Northern gloom. This is some gritty British riff supremacy with high fantasy aspirations. Crush a goblin’s skull to this one.
