The best thing about Kreator at this time (though this doesn’t apply to everything they did but definitely this song) is how completely locked into the thrash mode they were. No waste of time excursions into pretty, symphonic showing offs, nor pretentious descents into evil or middleground, take-it-or-leave-it bro-dom. No respite, no escape. No other way to latch to their music but to give yourself up to thrash purity. Just trash – perfect thrash. To ask for nothing more than fast (and it doesn’t matter that it’s not the fastest) open string palm-muting, dropping chords where they matter, with angry, ever-outsider lyrics rasped to you in a monotony of acerbicism set over – because why would you? The best trash band ever. Also the most handsome.
Though it is a bit beyond me technique-wise (especially the palm muting as my wrists don’t seem to work that way), this seems an incredibly fun song to play. The open palm muting to those fill in chords that just make sense to play is one of the best examples of strapping one’s guitar on and letting fly that i can think of. Metal, especially thrash, is replete with such examples. It can’t all be about guitar magazine ads and endorsements. It can’t be all cold theory. It can’t all be untouchable heroes. There is something corely enjoyable, primal and transcendent about playing music. It’s found in riffs like these.