Pessimism runs deep through Lamb Of God’s catalogue. So it’s little wonder that their latest, and best, album is riven with fury, given the current hellscape America and the rest of the world is waking up to these days.
For those unfamiliar with the jackhammer approach of Lamb Of God (educating and breaking heads for more than 20 years), Omens is as good a starting point as any.
Heavy yet eloquent, full tilt yet considered, it’s a record that is incandescent with rage, and clever too. Take opening track Nevermore, which thunders and screeches and then falls open to reveal singer D Randall Blythe dropping down a gear into a monologue that is as much Henry Rollins as it is Tom Waits.
And while you’re still marvelling at this fait accompli, they reverse a fire truck into your senses. It’s revelatory