Released: 2007, Earache
Reviewer: J. Campbell
If you’re not on the bandwagon yet, it’s time to jump on.
To throw a bone to the unfortunate bastards that have been living in a spider hole, Saddam-style, for the past couple of years, Municipal Waste have (thankfully) resurrected the crossover spirit of DRI and Bay Area thrash. Armed with the old-school punk attitude that is sorely lacking among today’s crop of “metaller-than-thou” thrash acts, their previous two albums were a beer-tainted waft of fresh air. After doling out CNN-worthy lyrical matter concerning jock-infested mosh pits and black ice (that shit killed Cliff Burton), they return with even more thrashtastic commentary on the THE ART OF PARTYING.
This latest outing, in true Waste fashion, certainly does not fuck around. Lightning-quick and guilty of being tight, they basically pick up right where HAZARDOUS MUTATION left off; there’s no surprises here, thank Christ. The title track showcases what makes this band so special in the first place: Their stunning knack for firing out consistently head-smashing riffs that ride alongside Tony Foresta’s infectious, frantic ranting. Their cunningly placed gang vocals are catchy as ever, and when all is said and done, this is the most unquestionably fun-as-all-hell metal album of the year.
If this record doesn’t put a cramp in your neck and a smile on your face, you’re one of two things:
2) A cynical, lonely, loathsome, curmudgeonly pile of shit.
And while this may be a notch less vital than their previous album, due to the lack of tracks on par with the mighty “Mind Eraser”, this is still basically buy-or-die material. Where else are you going to hear songs entitled “Lunch Hall Food Brawl” and “Sadistic Magician” played with such wholehearted intensity? Despite their tongue-in-cheek lyricisms and party-first attitude, Municipal Waste’s love for their craft is serious. The clear, gimmick-free production doesn’t leave room for error or sloppiness, and these guys are speedy and on point 100% of the time.
Look, there’s not much to say about a flawlessly executed, 32 minute crossover mosh-fest, except…
Municipal Waste is going to Fuck. You. Up.