How may I count the ways I have missed thee Ghoul? In severed heads, rotting limbs, with the howling laments of the undead or diseased and decaying vegetation purloined from freshly laid graves? None of which I fear would be praise enough for the Lords of Splatterthrash, who have summoned forth five, including a devastating Funerot cover, unholy slamtastic homages to the things that go bump in the night, ancient, parasitic elder gods, and the Great Old Ones from beyond the veil that when played upon your stereogram will shake the Pillars of Heaven and tear down the Gates of Hell.

Warping the spirits of Accused, early Kreator, and Scream Bloody Gore era Death through their cadaverous vessels, Ghoul have harnassed the dark power of thrash and crossover to create a wonderful cacophony that will seize control of your soul and make you want to slam uncontrollably throughout your abode until completely satiated and spent, you pass out in a pool of your own vomit and viscera.

And when you rise from the slumber of the fully pleasured thrash fanatic, the forbidden fruit of Noxious Concoctions will entice you to join the slam brigade of the damned time and time again, by whispering its thrash-fueled, sweet, sepulchral promises into your willing and compliant ear. The power of Ghoul compels you… Tim Cundle