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Kruger
don't waste time messing around. Start the album, you hear a gun
being cocked and then Ammunition Matters explodes into action, moving
up through the gears like a speed demon. This is a familiar sound,
the hi-octane, sludgy, almost-metalcore kind of noise that Mastodon
made popular. There's none of the toned-down mainstream leanings of
something like Blood Mountain, though – these guys are still
dirty-as-pigshit metal.
One
of the normal first reactions to hearing that a band sounds a bit
like Mastodon is going, “But dude, they can't be anywhere as good!
They don't have Brann Dailor!” Well, shut it. Dailor's a crazy
mofo, but Kruger's tub thumper Raph rises to the challenge like a true
champion. He sets up all the songs here brilliantly, anchoring the
crazy parts with class, setting up mercurial transitions, holding
back in crucial moments to leave space for the others and generally
playing his ass off like an all-round trooper. Take a bow, man. Take
two if you want. When you've got a foundation like this, the rest of
your setup could be crap and it still wouldn't collapse.
Crap
it isn't, however. The guitarist duo of Jak and Margo (his parents
have a lot to answer for) impress right from the start and don't let
up, chord slams punching out in between busy riffs, quirky harmonies
being thrown out here and there to keep the listener from getting too
comfortable (Queen of the Meadow and War & Wine showcase this
best). The twin attack manages to sound dirty, melodic and ballsy all
at the same time, with memorable melodies aplenty. Good stuff.
Reno's
normal vocal styling isn't too far off from Brent Hinds' delivery,
centred around the hoarse 'somewhere in the ballpark' yell and
switching to a low throaty croon for the restrained stuff. I'm not
really a huge fan of the shouts, as I usually prefer vocals sharp and
on the ball, but amidst the mucky ruckus that the rest of the band
makes, I guess it fits right in.
By
the time the first four songs have rolled around, Kruger have already
demonstrated an impressive variety in delivery, from all-out
controlled chaos to a slightly more conservative chug. Holy Fire is
where they rack up one more notch and slam the brakes to an eerily
somber crawl, dragging the listener through the wall of sludge one
inch at a time. It's also one of the few times you really get to hear
Blaise on the bass – most of the time, he's an unsung hero propping
up the bottom end while the rest of guys go nuts.
While
it'd be easy for a band like this to slip through the cracks or get
dismissed as a Mastaclone, they deserve way better. Give them a shot
if you don't mind getting dragged through the mud every once in a
while. And no, I don't know why they don't have last names. Some really badly organised witness protection program, maybe.

Year of release: 2007
Label: Listenable
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