"The Good, the Bad and the Damned"

By Octopi Mills

On the independent ticket tonight we have some fellows in a band called Zud, with the album titled "The Good, the Bad and the Damned."

"Portal to Infinity" messes with you like a naughty, liver mouthed priest as the introduction to the album behaves inappropriately, and makes you wonder what the hell is going on. I have no idea what Zud means, but I don't like it, for some reason i cannot find in searching my thoughts. We are given some ripping metal that verges on old school grounds, marrying thrash, black metal, and ugly punk, and it does recall old metal like Beherit at times or maybe even a Bathory worship project. This all sounds like good fun and games they are having with this near 13 minute second song opener, and at least they never loose their blaze... or do they, towards the end when things sound safe and coastal? "Blood and Twilight" is  like a weird cousin who forces his version of metal on you, and vomits warm beers all over the place, making it smell like cheap lager and piss, like the crash pit of a drunk driver who still clings to the stereo's analog features rather than other aspects of a physical universe or laws. There's another feel to the music, more chaotic and furious than most modern metal bands trying to take there love of nostalgia somewhere, and there are no respect for such boundaries for these other bands, at worst.

 The lyrics contain a madness only a fevered psychotic could imagine, if they are even saying something real, and not really babbling stream of consciousness horse manure that could be better realized through an ordeal of soft core psychiatric means. The schizophrenia of the lyrics are playful in their madness, hop frogging from many juvenile topics, mostly fantastical and wild in their meanderings, as if one has believed many books that have occult material. The songs roll on with their own style nearly, faster and harder. The harshness is upfront and strong, and keeps it from sounding like a common black metal attempt of later days, though it falls into itself the longer it plays and serves the performers more so than myself.  Songs are long and raging, sometimes making them have useless leads and appointments, and things better left alone. There comes a feel of relief when the album ends, as if i am ready to return to my own designs and it leaves a bitter place in the head, like one where attacked for the sake of attack. I have been defensive in the attack, though i felt taken advantage of, or perhaps ganged up on by younger boys trying to whip on an older man.