It isn’t exacty a secret that if it wasn’t for Exhorder, Pantera would have just been one of the many big hair, glam metal bands hawking their wares around Texas and the Southern States, playing the club circuit to make a semi-decent living and would probably have faded into obscurity, remembered only by their rabid following and devout metal historians. They’d have remained chained to the scene that created them, trapped inside the mould that forged them and the last twenty or so years of metal history would have been a whole lot different.  

Exhorder changed everything. And now they’re back to claim their rightful place at the top of the metal food chain and show the non-believers what the faithful have always known. That Louisiana thrash began with, lives in and will always owe everything to Exhorder. 

 Mourn the Southern Skies, Exhorder’s first album in twenty seven years is a hard hitting, fast as supercharged ’65 Pontiac GTO, mean fothermudger that’ll put hairs on your chest and damn near melt your brain. Stripped down, leaner, heavier, hungrier and catchier than band they helped to propel to greatness, Exhorder are the gaol cell fashioned shank that started a thousand prison riots, the whispered confession that causes governments to collapse and the lone voice of reason screaming for change in the midst of social uncertainty and Mourn the Southern Skies is the record that should, at long last ensure that they finally get the recognition, and everything that goes with it, that they so richly deserve.  Hell yeah…. Tim Cundle