Slayer

Slayer is indisputably one of the most important and influential bands in metal history. But as the genre has moved on from its thrashing heyday into its confused contemporary state, the old giants become easy targets; witness the self-parodying descent of Ozzy Osbourne, or how gleefully critics panned Metallica's wince-worthy St. Anger. On the other hand, Slayer doesn't need to recruit many fans away from death metal or math metal; as long as the old ones stick around, they will keep doing just fine.

Christ Illusion gives everyone plenty of incentive to stay on board. The automatic assumption with Slayer is that it would be impossible to equal Reign in Blood and Seasons in the Abyss, and that may be true, but Christ Illusion is absolutely in their league -- and has the advantage of being set against a considerably more agitated state of world affairs. Having to use the first Gulf War as song fodder seems almost quaint now. Things have spiraled so out of control that it's shaken the well-documented worldview of guitarist Kerry King, the primary songwriter on the record: "I need to redefine how I see the world today," he writes on the unfortunately titled "Consfearacy." "Seems that all the war didn't even up the score."

Singer Tom Araya chews into lines like that as though he'd written them himself. Age, surprisingly, suits him well. His vocal growl has held up, and it's infinitely more commanding and intimidating than the hundreds of screamo-babies populating hardcore today. His bandmates are in peak form, too, with King and Jeff Hanneman each helping restore faith in the shredding guitar solo. That happens as early as the standout opening track (the fortunately titled "Flesh Storm"), and carries on throughout the record as they trade off and top one another. The major lineup development is the return of Dave Lombardo behind the drumkit; he is appropriately savage, but also nimble enough to keep up with Araya's possessed ranting and King and Hanneman's amp-frying.

Hanneman and Araya are the songwriting duo responsible for classics like "Dead Skin Mask," and they echo that slow-and-sinister grind on "Eyes of the Insane." Their songs often feature more of an arc, as on "Jihad," which starts out lean and midtempo before building to a full-blooded, galloping rampage. Ostensibly written from a suicide bomber's perspective, it's all too easy to transpose it to fit the current American government: "War of Holy principles / I'm seeking God's help in your destruction."

King, meanwhile, largely sets his sights on Jesus Christ, and he forgets to bring his kid gloves. His disgusted criticisms of religion -- that it sanctions torture and murder, that it stems from mythmaking, that it favors blind faith over hard reality -- are on point and, at the very least, provocative. But the inevitable "Hail Satan" conclusion cheapens the process. Why remain in that same paradigm? On the other hand, maybe it does take a Faustian bargain to still be able to thrash this gloriously after almost 25 years. - Adam McKibbin, The Red Alert

The reunion of the original Slayer lineup appears for the first time in the studio since 1990's Seasons in the Abyss (a record that topped off one of the great four-album stands in metal history: Hell Awaits, Reign in Blood, and South of Heaven preceded it). Drummer Dave Lombardo's retaking of the drum chair places the band back on the edge, pushing themselves and the genre to look back at where they've been and where they go from here. For a band that has been together as long as Slayer has, they have never made concessions and have stubbornly refused to sound like anyone but themselves. Christ Illusion is a raging, forward-thinking heavy metal melding with hardcore thrash; this is what made them such a breath of fresh air in the first place. And while they no longer sound terrifying, that was never their point anyway. Slayer rips through these ten songs, complete with lightning changes, off-kilter rhythms, and riff invention, together with plodding crescendos, sick-as-hell guitar breaks, and dark, unrelentingly twisted-as-f*ck lyrics that reflect a singular intensity. The big themes on Christ Illusion center on the perverse myth of religion and its responsibility for, and cause of, war. One can talk about the power big-money has at stake in the Middle Eastern havoc, but the root, according to some of these songs, is the culture war between two competing myths, Christianity and Islam, that this time out could result in the apocalypse. On the opener, "Flesh Storm," Tom Araya roars the refrain above the guitars and frantic drumming: "It's all just psychotic devotion/Manipulated with no discretion/Relentless/Warfare knows no compassion/Thrives with no evolution/Unstable minds exacerbate/Unrest in peace...only the fallen have won/Because the fallen can't run/My vision's not obscure/For war there is no cure/So here the only law/Is men killing men/For someone else's cause."

Elsewhere, such as "Eyes of the Insane," the story comes in the first person from the point of view of a soldier who is suffering the effects of PTSD, yet he may or may not still be on the battlefield. Lombardo's drums open it slowly, then the Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King guitar gods create an intensely harrowing and angular riff that changes from verse to verse, through the refrain and bridge, and comes back again. Yeah, Slayer actually crafts and writes songs. Check the little skittering vamp that leads into "Jihad," where Lombardo just shimmers his hi-hat before the band begins to enter and twist and turn looking for a place to create a new rhythmic thrash that's the most insane deconstruction of four/four time on tape. The indictment of "holy war" is possible only through the telling of the narrative from a Jihadist's point of view. The blazing, low-tuned heaviness of "Consfearacy" turns the entire principle of patriotism's blind ideals into an evil joke. Araya's voice is mixed way up this time, every utterance is understandable, thanks to producer and mixer Josh Abraham and label boss Rick Rubin. This scathing rejection of religion as the cause for world conflict is best characterized in "Cult." The low-tuned, two-string vamp that slithers into the foreground creates a tension as Lombardo's cymbals call the band into the riff that opens the tune. It's slow, meaty, unrelenting in its tautness. When Araya's voice comes in, the whole track is off the rails and stays there: "Oppression is the holy war/In God I distrust...Is war and greed the Master's plan? The Bible's where it all began/Its propaganda sells despair/And spreads the virus everywhere/Religion Is hate/Religion Is fear/Religion is war...." Whether you agree with Slayer's anti-religion militancy is one thing, but their view that it underscores this war and so many preceding it has to be taken with some seriousness. And musically, they are in a league of their own. Christ Illusion creates an interesting dilemma for people of faith who like heavy metal: the stance against war here is unreproachable, but can one hang with the conflicting point of view that faith in a god is responsible for it? Given the defined presence of the vocals, one cannot simply listen to the voice as another instrument, as in much of heavy metal. One has to deal with the music and the words this time out, and yes, they're printed in the lyric booklet. Christ Illusion is an antiwar record that asks people to think for themselves. At one point Araya makes his choice, "six six six," but even that's in reaction, an irony. Christ Illusion is brilliant, stomping, scorched-earth thrash metal at its best. Lyrically, it may offend people, but getting the listener to think and make choices is what this music is all about. An anti-Christian/anti-Islam/anti-theocratic, antiwar album, Christ Illusion is essential for anyone interested in the genre. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide