Hot Graves have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, and they’re aaaaaaaall outta bubblegum. Totally ripping, raw old-school thrash with a touch of death and a hefty heaping of D-Beat is the order of the day for these good ol’ boys from Gainsville, Florida. On this here seven inch record they give us three steaming-hot slices of hot rockin’ violence, including an Anti Cimex cover, that will make you thrash like a maniac until your ears bleed.
Fronted by Myk Colby, who some of you may know from ‘The Doomed Forever Show’ on Grow Radio, on burning metal axe and screaming mic torture, aided and abetted by thunder-machine Matt and bass-buster Hutch, these Graves have been Hot since 2007. Throwing Midnight, The Accused, Anti Cimex, Nunslaughter and especially Celtic Frost and Discharge into the blender, Hot Graves have a sound that harkens back to the glory-days of chainsaw thrash, and an attitude like they mean to kill ’em all…WITH THRASH.
On the A-side ‘Desecration Time’ itself leaps from the speakers with a growl and wrecks the living room with a tasty blend of D-Beat thrashing and early Death metallic Floridian chugging, while Myk beasts it up on low-key demonic vokills. Three minutes into this four-and-a-half-minute rager and the Graves bust out the dooooooom – everything goes into slow-mo and we get a winning li’l harmonised section over pounding slothful drums and bass. Tasty. Of course, these guys can’t help themselves and before you know it we’re back up to speed and thrashing along under a RIPPING guitar solo. BANG. We’re done.
Flip it over and it’s time for ‘Baphomet’s Revenge’, an adrenaline-fuelled and demonically possessed scorcher of a track. High-octane hardcore thrash and raw shredding bring the thunder, and another mighty lead gets whipped out. The whole shebang warps into near-blastbeat territory right at the end, with some tasty pinched harmonics ringing out to boot.
Last up, ‘Make My Day’, Hot Graves’ crusty tribute to those mighty Swedes, Anti Cimex, is a riot of ‘bum-tit’ D-Beatery, power-riffing, shrieking lead guitar and those low-key demonic vokills.
So there you have it. One seven inch, three solid tracks, and a bangover from hell. These guys totally burst command ’til war, if you know what I mean. TRASH!
Scribed by: Paul Robertson