You know how there used to be these dudes called Vikings and they sailed these huge ships and plundered villages and killed those weaker than themselves and set fires and basically kicked all kinds of ass, all the while drinking mead out of human skulls while wearing helmets made out of leather and iron? And you know how there was this war called World War II, and atomic bombs were dropped and hundreds of thousands of people were incinerated and vaporized while fire rained from the skies? And then there was this other war called the Vietnam War and napalm obliterated everything in its path and carpet bombings were a routine occurrence and whole jungles were reduced to ash? Well, Black Thai play music that is the soundtrack for such events. It’s heavy, relentless and pounding, yet there is melody contained therein and there is indeed just a little bit of restraint involved, otherwise all of their fans would be dead and nobody would be left to appreciate the mammoth songs these riff warriors bring down from the mountain to share with the mere mortals of this Earth. Jim Healey and Scott O’Dowd brandish their guitars as if they were battle axes, peeling off riff after punishing riff in their quest to conquer the meek. Jim also puts in time as vocalist, singing melodies which soar over the monstrous racket, telling tales of vanquishment and victory. Bassist Cory Cocomazzi holds down the bottom end with a solid bed of bass, making sure that the songs don’t fly apart like so much wayward shrapnel. And Jeremy Hemond provides the thunder of the gods, beating the living daylights out of his Vistalites, hammering the point home that these guys are not here to be your friend or to chat about the weather. Black Thai are here to destroy and to take no prisoners, and to provide the soundtrack for the end times. Armageddon never sounded so good. Stonefed a fairytale to control you, somehow you always knew, what's waiting for you down in the old shed. We're all tools for him.