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DIABOLIC FORCE
Praise Of Satan

Hells Headbangers (2018)
Rating: 8/10

Straight off the bat (and with the wings of a bat!) we have a band clearly influenced by the likes of Motörhead, Venom, Bulldozer and Bathory. Such streaks are not uncommon but need to be employed the correct way, and thankfully this Brazilian trio of demonic loons has come up trumps with this fiery outing.

Yep, the guys look like they’ve stepped out of some cavern club with their spikes, studs and leather – and that’s to be expected with such old fashioned whips of evil – but by now this Rio de Janeiro-based clan has become accustomed to their sound having been conjuring up such dark waves since 2001.

Clocking in at a rather compact 32-minutes, Praise Of Satan’s ten tracks more than hold their own in the throwback field which has become jam-packed with war metal revival standards. Y’know the sort of vibe – punked up, loose, lethal and obscure injections which can’t help but be fuelled by the old gods of the South American scene; Sarcofago, Mutilator et al.

This is one big blasphemous pile of corpse junk rich in rust and coated in caterwauls. And you can blame vocalist Whipstriker for such yelps, the sort of scowls and howls he also employed with other bands such as namesake combo Whipstriker, Atomic Roar and the hilariously named Virgin’s Vomit which also featured the talents of Diabolic Force’s axeman Poisonhell and drummer Hugo Golon.

The likes of ‘Satan’s Power’, ‘Blasphemic Sound’, ‘Whorehouse Queen’ and ‘Rotting Lips’ are all charcoal-coated snaps of satanic horror built upon the altars of old Sodom, Hellhammer, Bathory, Bulldozer, and just about every other satan spattered orgy of evil to batter our ears since the 80s.

Yeah, it is difficult to view this as a serious record, but one cannot help but wade through the murky menace of Bathory-styled fumes; the air of this whole scrapheap is one so intoxicating, drunken and oxidized as the guitars rage with passion and fury, while Mr Whipstriker does his best Cronos-cum-Quorthon impression.

In-between there’s the usual flurries of sickness and beer-soaked belligerence, namely in the shorter and certainly more rapid shitfests such as ‘Doom Child’, ‘Volcanic Mutilation’ and the aforementioned ‘Blasphemic Sound’ and ‘Rotting Lips’, all of which run for under two-minutes as speed-metal eruptions straight outta 1982.

Elsewhere, ‘Cross In Fire’ begins with a killer doom plod, and is utterly rustic and putrid in its mankiness, while ‘Black Light Damnation’ is equally trudging in its morose fashion before leading to punkier depths. My favourite track however is probably album closer ‘The Circle’; this a seven-minute monstrosity that chugs as slowly as the tolling bell, the vocals being mere tortured wails amidst the mist of steadily ascending guitar racket, the grinding bass bucket and those rattling drums.

As expected, what Praise Of Satan also offers up is ridiculous lyrics, whether it’s “Queen of whip, lady sextrap” from ‘Whorehouse Queen’, or “Necro bitch, lascivious killer bitch” from ‘Rotting Lips’. One gets the impression that the band has consumed too much Venom and Bathory over the years, but such cheesiness adds to the charm of what is essentially a regressive, and troll-like cacophony built upon a foundation of tried and now crumbling cannons, raucous yet war torn rants and enough crude and flaking shrapnel to force you into submission.

Neil Arnold

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