Well, move over DYSTOPIA, here comes MOHO. The peculiar and ominous nature of the artwork got me curious. I knew it would either be smokin’ or a calculated yawn festival. Luckily for me, we’re talking about the former and not the latter. The band is a three-piece from Spain, and “20 uñas” is the result of a five-hour jam session captured on tape. It is a vicious, almost reptilian assault from all sides. It’s just what the doctor ordered for a jaded fan of sludge and doom. We’ve got some nods to SLAYER, some sandblasting sludge a la REBREATHER, and it all sounds genuine and raw.

“El Tren” is a metalcore riff wrapped around a bag of nuclear warheads. The entire track is absolutely buried in raging, cymbal-smashing drum insanity. It goes through a couple of interesting changes – including some Hanneman/King sorta atonal guitar licks, making even the best YOB stuff sound tame in spots. “Culebra” starts with a real bass intro. Not a sleepy, “Hand of Doom” kind of intro, but an upbeat, “open up this door so I can come in and kick your ass” kind of bassline. Jeezus, this drummer is the whole fucking band. Nice, tight bass-and-drum break a couple of minutes in reveals (thank God) no rhythm guitar. The guy’s voice recalls Mille from KREATOR at his most primitive. There’s a couple of moments in this track where these guys rear back and simultaneously deliver a blast of sound that sprays Raid in your face. The whole thing delivers like a vintage riff from the “Masters of Reality” album sped up and filled with all the rancor, spite, and hatred you can fit into a 6+ minute song. Strongest track on the album, hands down. “Gusano De Fuego” – Here’s our slow intro. Slow, but not lacking in intensity. This drummer could make “Happy Birthday” sound like it’s gonna tear your face off. The spirit of “Sky Valley” lives on in this track, bringing back memories of my favorite mid-late 90s Homme clones.

The reason that “20 uñas” works so well is because it strikes the listener as genuine, unpolished, and at the same time, exotic. You can picture the band in some ancient stone Spanish hut, churning out these thunderous anthems that echo through the mountain valleys. Each riff is forged from the discarded rusty shards of past greats, blended in primitive fashion with iron hammers and European sophistication. But it’s those jagged barbs lurking within them that tears the flesh off your ears.

- Marchman

OFFICIAL SITE: myspace.com/moho666

RELATED ITEMS: No related articles at this time.