Okay, first, the cover art. Look, call me old fashioned, call me what the Hell ever, but I’m puke-sick over the sheer amount of AI-generated crap masquerading as album art these days. Hell, I didn’t even like most of ANTHRAX’s album art, if that tells you anything. METHANE, it seems, didn’t even try with the “art” that disgraces Demolate, so I’m not even sure if an accidental pressing of NUCLEAR ASSAULT’s Game Over into the grooves could save this record already. Granted, those familiar with Sweden’s version of MUNICIPAL WASTE can’t be expecting anything except the party-thrash the band is known for but be assured we’re not delving into the cerebral here whatsoever. So, let’s grab our prissy-ass White Claws and see if there’s anything except a brightly colored dartboard left at the end.

‘360° Of Destruction’ whirls around on its axis of throwaway second-tier riffs, jumpdafucup-core breakdowns and any and everything you’d expect. Like if PRO-PAIN and BIOHAZARD’s kids started a band, and that band sucked, and the parents were too embarrassed to tell them. I never thought I’d be able to nod off to a song called ‘Alcoholocaust’, but it’s distressing that it’s literally happening here. “vocalist” Tim Scott has left behind every bit of what made his basswork in REVENANT so cool for those few EPs and album, content to dance monkey dance for the lowest common denominator, with a delivery that makes Paul Baloff’s rotted corpse sound classically trained in comparison.

The tag team guitars of Jimi Mästerbo and Markus Grundström seem stuck at the same tone, refusing to budge from it when doing so might actually create a second or two of interest, instead mucking about in the most basic and bland patterns and structures, even on the title track, which isn’t even a word. Open challenge now, members of the band, if you can find ‘Demolate’ in any dictionary I’ll eat my boots. My heartfelt sympathy goes to drummer Richard Fredriksson, for being the only one in the band that it seems gives two shits about doing anything remotely entertaining, but even his time-signature shifting on ‘Get In The Coffin’ isn’t enough to save this yawnfest.

Ending with ‘I Fuck For Beer’ fills me with excitement, but only because I’m under three minutes away from being done with what apparently just robbed me of 40-ish minutes I’ll never get back. Mr. Methane is a British flatulist who can fart in time and in tune. Listen to him instead.
Review By: Lord Randall

METHANE
Demolate
Fireflash Records / Edel