MUNICIPAL WASTE: The Art Of Partying; (EMI)
By Fizz
Rating: 8.5
At this point, there’s really no arguing that metal has returned. No, it’s not exactly like it used to be. But there are tons of heavy bands out there that know how to play their instruments and grew up listening to the masters, and you don’t have to get all their CD’s on import either. You can actually walk into a record store in the mall and have a fighting chance of walking out with some new tunes, and might even miss the weird look from the pimply kid working the register. You might even know someone you didn’t meet on some message board who’s heard of these bands, too. But one thing that’s still a bit lacking in today’s metal scene is fun. Shadows Fall have their hippie-Zen lyrics, Lamb of God go around pissed off at everybody in sight, and Mastodon do the fantasy thing. But there really hasn’t been any metal—serious, headbanging metal, I mean—that’s just pure, unadulterated fun.
Enter Virginia’s Municipal Waste. These guys make lightning-fast, crossover thrash metal that would make Billy Milano proud. Insane tempos and blistering riffs combine with shouted lyrics about drinking and breaking shit, to create a mix that’s damn refreshing. The Art of Partying is the band’s third album, and the title pretty much says it all. Fifteen songs whiz by in just under half an hour (not counting the hidden track of the guys just fooling around with a handheld tape-recorder), and to be honest, the songs are so short (most around the two-minute mark) that it’s sometimes hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. Normally, that would be a distraction, but this record is tailor-made for people with short attention spans. There are some killer grooves, but in general, they don’t last very long, and then it’s back to thrash overdrive. It’s nothing you’ve never heard before, but it’s been so long since you’ve heard quite this particular brand of metal, it’s damn near impossible not to like.
A number of bands come to mind when listening to The Art of Partying. S.O.D. and D.R.I. are the most obvious, of course, but Municipal Waste also hint at early, breakneck Anthrax. I also can’t help thinking of certain, humorous Forced Entry songs like “How We Spet Our Vacation,” and for some reason, I can’t get the idea of Death Angel circa The Ultra-Violence out of my mind. Meanwhile, the vocals, nothing more than rapid-fire hollering, remind mainly of Slayer’s Tom Araya. Impeccable reference points, all.
As for the actual songs, the title track (after the useless and brief intro “Pregame”) gets kicks the party into high gear right from the start. You know right off that this is going to be the kind of party where cops eventually appear. “Headbanger Face Rip” continues the trend (all the songs do, really), and the neck muscles are popping all over the room. I’m trying to come up with things to say about different songs, but it’s not easy. I could say that “Mental Shock” rips, and that would be true, but so do “Attention Deficit Destroyer,” “Chemically Alters” and every other song. “Beer Pressure” is especially comical, with its spoken parts featuring a dude attempting unsuccessfully to ward off the frosty brews offered to him (“Hey, I can’t even see, man!”). “Sadistic Magician” slows things down jus ta tiny bit, just enough to make the song stand out fro the others. The subject matter is gloriously juvenile (“Lunch Hall Food Brawl,” “Septic Detonation”—these are real song titles, I swear!). And when the whole thing winds down with “Born To Party,” with the gleeful chant of “Municipal Waste is gonna FUCK YOU UP! Municipal Waste is gonna FUCK YOU UP!” you can’t help but agree. It’s a great way to get drunk and sweaty in thirty minutes or less, guaranteed. The irresponsible, destructive metalhead, that hobgoblin of staid suburban nightmares of yore, has made a triumphant and welcome return.
Best Songs: “The Art Of Partying,” “Headbanger Face Rip,” “Beer Pressure,” “Sadistic Magician”
Worst Song: There isn’t one.
