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PROTOTHRASH
Gonorreator


Self-released (2018)
Rating: 6/10

Boy, that’s a bad name for a thrash act! However, I’m here to give this gang of Columbian thrashers a fair trial as they release upon the world their debut full-length outing. I don’t know too much about this four-piece combo, except to say that the line-up consists of Leo Quijano (vocals / bass), Edwin Ramírez and Diego García (guitars), and Fabián Millán (drums).

The record offers up 12-tracks, all of which are too long resulting in an album that soon flounders due to its run time of well over an hour. This means that a majority of what should be concise, sharp thrash tracks have a duration mostly of five to six minutes, while other songs clock in at seven minutes, nine minutes, and with ‘Metástasis’ almost 16-minutes!

Protohtrash are a young combo trying to run before it can walk, but that’s not to say that at times this is a good, accomplished record. However, the vocals ruin the whole affair; a squealing heave at times, double-tracked with a deathlier lurch. And that’s a shame, because musically the band shifts between several gears throughout this wholesome, if somewhat drawn out exercise.

From the opener ‘Doliente Infección mental’, the riotous title track, and into the likes of ‘Sesenta años’ and ‘Cruces blancas’, we’re treated to a veritable feast of Anthrax-styled chugs mixed with more traditional flecks as well as progressive, although not alienating passages of melody. Admittedly some of the solos are a tad wayward and the snare also seems to be suffering at times, but what is clear is that this bunch want to cram in as much instrumentation as possible.

That’s not to say that this is a technical opus. Far from it in fact, as another gang chant comes bursting out of the gutter. This feels like an album packed with some really nice, measured passages whereby the tracks build with thrashing tension. But just when you think these guys are going to go all out, they once again slow the pace or turn a different corner.

Again, though it’s the rather strained vocal yelps which let down some of the meatier grooves. ‘Sodomía y azufre’, for instance, is a fine moshing structure hinting at the likes of Anthrax, Metallica, Death Angel, but Leo Quijano just isn’t the vocalist for this job; his thin, reaching quirks become too irritating as the rest of the posse carves out a rather memorable foundation of solid thrash. And that’s the theme for the whole experience; a huge negative when again one considers how long some of the songs are.

‘Desastre’ is another example of how the band rumbles like a juggernaut, but is let down by its driver. And this seems to be the main issue with all this “new wave of thrash” stuff; band’s eager to nod to the past but failing miserably, usually in the vocal department. In this case, Gonorreator feels heavily flawed, but is also symbolic of how some acts try to impress by so many overlong compositions, and yet overlook the basic elements which should make them strong.

Neil Arnold

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