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For the superstitiously inclined, 13 is a somewhat plagued number.  For it stands for another landmark album of loud, Bay Area thrash with a namesake defining longevity, with time speaking for them.

Their new onslaught incorporates all major earth bound elements, staying loyal to traditional ingredients while tossing some new additives into the eternal-bubbling cauldron.  Titans of Creation is worthy to be slam-stamped with their moniker.

Select tunes spotlight the four strings while Chuck Billy’s vocals take a few unexpected turns with new depth and range.  Titans reflect stories of creation while harnessing the lyrical power and loud rage of end-of-time time brother and destruction.

Guitars and bass gallop strange and bluesy with astro-cosmic fear on opening death cult call to the comet as Children of the Next Level reopen Heaven’s Gate.

Raw studded steel is taken from Priest’s Dream Deceiver.  Before Krueger’s nightmares, Priest wrote about subconscious manipulative forces.

Inspired by Hollywood’s creepy Witch, Billy is his own eerie inhabitant during Night of the Witch.  It’s a hard, cackling, cursed midnight ride under the pale moon as guitars spiral and swirl in the void, casting incantation and evocation.

Motorcycles rev on City of Angels with ripping engines trading ripping flesh.  The bloody rampage of The Night Stalker is stained in lyrical immortality as Billy opens in lullaby-like low key. Dirty riffs fit the serial turf in a tune not quite Saints of Los Angeles.

Ishtars Gate shakes guitars to pyramid-high peaks, giving voice to the Goddess of War with Billy’s vocals treading two levels, giving lyrics double diverse deliveries and personalities.  Chariots race across golden sands as ancient hieroglyphs come to metallic life.

With downward melancholy and moody riffs Symptoms plays reality with mental illness and effects thereof with psychosis on bass as guitars puncture ears like tattoo needles leaving art in the senses.

Curse of Osiris brings out some of Billy’s highest peaks, shaking earth under long buried gods.  The instrumental grandeur of Catacombs ends with riffs, notes and beats with a divine choir putting the listener in the grand coliseum or sacred temple.

Titans of Creation delivers what fans expect and demand from Chuck and crew while delivering new goods bestowed upon the ear.  They’ve pleased the gods once again.

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