Some people relax at the end of the day with a cold beer or a glass of wine, but not me, I prefer to smoke some weed! We all know the harmful effects of alcohol—liver disease, increased risk of cancer, bloating, hangovers—that’s just not for me. I prefer the natural, relaxing, and medicinal effects of marijuana. And then, yeah, sure, sometimes that buzz pairs nicely with a glass or two of merlot or a couple high-octane IPA’s but I’d much rather smoke weed than drink these days.
Ever since I stopped drinking and started using cannabis instead, I’ve really noticed a change in my mental state. I’m so much more chill. I don’t NEED a beer after a day of work. I need to smoke a bowl, and then maybe I WANT a refreshing beer afterward but that’s more, like, an appetizer for the Doritos Flamas tacos I’m making. I’ve gotten really into the culinary arts now that I’ve given up drinking in favor of cannabis.
Another great thing about weed is you can get high any time of day and there’s no social stigma attached to it. Drinking before 5 pm is a problem but wake-and-bake is a lifestyle. Smoke some weed before brunch. Get a couple of mimosas (those don’t count) or bloody Marys (basically a salad) and get down on some French toast!
The great thing about weed is it actually helps me focus where alcohol would just make me super unproductive. I like to smoke a joint and enjoy nature or do something creative like write poetry or paint. Sometimes I’ll walk to that pub on the corner and grab a drink while I doodle on a soggy napkin and look for faces in the patterns of grain of the wood barstools. It’s really a much more cerebral experience than drinking alcohol.
Ok, so every once in a while I get a bit TOO stoned and start to freak out a little. But it’s not like getting too drunk because when you’re too stoned you can just have a drink to knock the edge off the anxiety and it kinda brings you back to ground level.
So yeah, I basically don’t drink anymore. Except for after I smoke. Which I do every day.
Simply put, this album fucking rules. Rife with groovy riffs over driving double-bass that would make Maggie Smith throw down in the pit, its placement on this list is by no means an indicator that you should steer clear. The only issue here is the power kind of fading out towards the last couple songs (you’d better believe you’d be seeing this further down the list had the intensity of “Inside the Wire” been matched throughout every song.) Max out the volume on this bad boy and appreciate Dave Ingram’s sole contribution to the band, as he’s able to provide some Benediction-ass vocal work that’ll have you cowering in the nearest foxhole. No need to fret the absence of Karl Willetts’ apocalyptic roar, fellow death metal maniacs, as there’s plenty of him below.
And the grooves keep coming. This effort sees a heavier focus on melody (we hear you, “Powder Burns”) without sacrificing the heaviness that fans at this point had come to expect. Throw in some really killer leads by guitarist Baz Thomson, and you’ve got a recipe for a musical onslaught that any other death metal band would renounce Satan to replicate. Our only beef with this album is similar to that of “Honour — Valour — Pride” in that the ceiling reached in its opening isn’t really matched through every subsequent song. With that being said, you haven’t really experienced a death metal show until you’ve seen the band perform the title track live. Oh, you never had the opportunity to see them live, and now likely never will because they called it quits in 2015? Suck it up, crybaby, and grab your helmet and mess tin. We have more albums to cover.
Good God! If you reach the end of this 30-minute attack and realize you haven’t taken a single breath, welcome to the club. While the frenetic, grind-heavy sound on the band’s debut would absolutely be refined in later offerings, there’s a definite charm to its crusty-ass production that we just can’t deny. The levels on the vocals aren’t really consistent throughout, but who gives a shit? This isn’t fucking math class. Slayer’s “Reign in Blood” had been fresh on everybody’s mind at the time, and you can detect the influence from the speed to the short, hellish guitar solos. If you don’t find yourself playing air guitar to the power chords in “Attack in the Aftermath,” you might as well just label yourself a conscientious objector to death metal.
This one’s definitely a slow-down from their previous releases, which leads more doom-oriented death metalers to top their lists with it. The chaos is still very much there, but quite balanced with some nicely mid-paced portions. It’s thick and meaty, so you’d best come to the table hungry. Listen to “Ritual” enough times and you will permanently have a grimace of awed appreciation plastered on your face. Bonus points for the album cover, which probably caused the deaths of countless Romantic-era art fans who cluelessly purchased it out of curiosity. R.I.P. nerds.
HELL yes. 1991 was arguably the best year for old school death metal, and “War Master” is a shining exemplar amongst a class of shining exemplars. Crushing and frenzied while somehow maintaining a brooding atmosphere, this album toned down the speed just a hair to achieve a balance that’s as unsettling as it is driving. That opening riff of “What Dwells Within” is up there with the title track of “The IVth Crusade” in terms of recognizable Bolt Thrower moments. The fact that it’s only Number 4 on this list serves as a testament to how otherworldly this band is. Tuck those acid-washed Z. Cavaricci jeans under the tongues of your Reeboks and blast this from your boombox as you strut about the streets. We promise you’ll earn the respect of every metalhead you encounter.
From the second riff of “War” you know you’re in for something special with this one, and that seamless transition into “Remembrance” will throw you into the battlefield whether you’re ready or not. It simply does not let up from start to finish, and the unbelievable hooks somehow only serve to make the songs more crushing. Add “When Glory Beckons” to your workout playlist and you’ll end up winning Mr. Olympia by default. The half-assed cover makes this album even better. A stock photo that looks like a screenshot from the opening theme of M*A*S*H will have to suffice if you’ve spent all your time and effort on writing winners. Fuck yes.
The band chose to focus the subject matter of its swansong exclusively on World War I, and the end result is flawless. Bass badass (and only member to play on every album) Jo Bench maintains a mud-crunching tone that will give you trench foot, and the late, great Martin Kearns keeps a reserved pace that accentuates the heaviness of the riffs. The atmosphere on the title track is absolutely palpable, and the breakdown on “Salvo’ will leave you eager to storm the Saint-Mihiel salient. We may not have deserved an absolutely perfect final album from Bolt Thrower, but they made good and goddamn sure we got one.
