Forbidden
Omega Wave

And now? Who's still missing?

I mean, after the tasty Thrash Metal revival of these last few years, with dozens of youngsters in tight pants and leather jackets drenched in beer popping out like mushrooms, even those who branded this genre probably thought  ”Good heavens... twenty years ago we busted our butts for a meager contract, and now these guys, with the usual clichés, are out there getting applause and cash?” And so, as if by magic, the old and the new come together to reaffirm how to play hard and pure, without intrusions or various contaminations; thus, even the Forbidden, a historic name of the second wave, in 2008, hooks onto the bandwagon of resounding reunions and, after just under two years of touring, launches their counterattack: ''Omega Wave''.

First, let's get one thing out of our heads once and for all: all those statements about the lack of motivation that prevailed in artists in the early '90s as the trigger for breakups. All lies. It wasn't the press or critics, who had shifted attention elsewhere, that killed Thrash; nor was it fans who had grown tired of certain sounds. Thrash disappeared because the bands themselves abandoned musical dignity with flabby and clumsily assembled albums. The scene wasn't running out of ideas as some claimed ('Time Does Not Heal' by Dark Angel wasn't utterly thrash? And it's just the most obvious example), but it was betrayed by the same historical spokespeople with their dull, inconsistent, and damnably "peaceful" records while excellent examples of expressive continuity were emerging in the underground and were being consistently ignored. The same Forbidden, authors at the end of the '80s of two great works (later recognized by public opinion as cornerstones of the genre) like ''Forbidden Evil'' and ''Twisted Into Form'', lost favor and respectability first with ''Distortion'' and then ''Green''.

This ''Omega Wave'', thirteen years later, tries to set things right, and without beating around the bush, I'll tell you right away that their intentions are sufficiently achieved. It wasn't an utopian goal, but in these 12 tracks all their prerogatives are fully evident: there's the skill of the individual musicians, there's compositional class, there's performative vitality; there are Forbidden, in short.

After the apocalyptic and academic intro ''Alpha Century'', a perfect storm is unleashed upon us, ''Forsaken At The Gates'', the best way to make a comeback: the structures are upheld, the guitars of historical leader Greg Locicero and newcomer Steve Smyth (ex Nevermore Testament and Vicious Rumors) razor-sharp, churning out grim, dark, and dynamic riffs. The bass by Matt Camacho is nicely boosted (though a bit neglected in the album's mixing), the drums by newcomer Mark Hernandez (ex Vio-lence, Heathen, Defiance) are tentacular and at times overwhelming. But the greatest pleasure for me is hearing again the splendid voice of Russ Anderson, who I find to be in pretty good shape without wanting to make inappropriate comparisons to the past. The solid ''Overthrow'' that follows dulls the exemplary tones of the opener and brings us back to earth with a mid-tempo reminiscent of Testament's "Low" and "Demonic"; what doesn't win me over are the chorus melodies, which seem excessively contrived.

Vigor and modernity. These are the two tracks on which the album travels throughout its 60 minutes, stumbling both in a more direct and old-school direction, like in the impenetrability of '''Adapt or Die'', or in the primitive ferocity of the title-track (perhaps the most extreme song ever written by them), as well as through "up with the times" hues like the Nevermore-esque polychromy of ''Swine'' (which picks up on some more recent and questionable ideas from the group's career) and the central trio '''Dragging My Casket'' ''Hopenosis'' ''Immortal Wounds'', pieces that bring out the more complex and enveloping side of Locicero and company, full of staccato and compact riffs, penetrating solos, and Anderson's talent, who experiments with tones far from his infamous twitters. ''Behind The Mask'' (a completely lackluster and insignificant song) and the ostentatious '''Inhuman Race'' make way for the aforementioned ''Omega Wave'', a closing piece and second highlight, according to my tastes, with its criminal rhythms and solemn refrain.

Considering that my expectations for this comeback weren't particularly high, as a fan of the band, I'm satisfied but also somewhat frustrated by this new incarnation. Leaving aside the hypotheses about the supposed (or not) sincerity of intentions, I ask myself: how much longevity can such an album have? Why do the same musicians who deliver blows to the face then have to show that maturity also lies in writing cheesy and questionable choruses? The fact is that ''Omega Wave'', while not forcibly anachronistic (except for the cover), also doesn't seem to want to take risks, remaining too ceremonious and in rather ordinary areas to be considered excellent. The absence of a track that carries the entire work stands out (a ''Chalice of Blood'' to make it clear), and generally, it feels like today's Forbidden are traveling with the handbrake on, as if afraid of gaining too much speed and risking going off track.

OK, guys. Welcome back. But now show (again) what you're made of. Once and for all.