Morbid Saint, hailing from Sheboygan, Wisconsin.
Morbid Saint's only album is an early example of the least-dated style of The Sacred Thrash, something called 'Death-tinged'. What this means is that the vocal attack sounds absolutely demonic, but not growled or monstrous. More like a crazy witch with throat polyps. This album has a raw, ruined quality of recording, which gives it a terrifying heaviness. It's as if the music is spiraling straight out of Hell like one of those vacuous superplanar clouds from the Poltergeist movies. There's just an endless barrage of wild shredding all over this piece, with solos and riffing of above-average consistency. This is a great album, nothing hokey about it, and extra brutal.
Artwork. That's a candid moment with the singer, from the classic moment where you get to try out funny wigs and costumes while you're waiting to be judged at the end of time. You have to be judged at the end of time a few days before each LP you release to be considered Thrash Metal, especially now with the internet.
NUMBER 12
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