Formed during the 80s thrash scene, one of the many Maelstrom's of the era have returned to release another collection of material that, apparently, was predestined. So it's not their fault, then is it? Fifteen years after their initial demise, Maelstrom clearly feel they have something to prove. Arriving amid an unending sea of sub-genres brimming with musicians to whom mastery of their instruments, shifting between impossible time signatures, or effortless hopping across eight styles at once poses less of a challenge than winking, for It Was Predestined they have pulled out all the stops. And like an explosion in a shit factory, it's all over the place. Inflated, overstated, and as ridiculously theatrical as an amateur dramatics performance of a codpiece-clenching Shakespeare soliloquy, as much punch as they can muster is packed into the hyper speed riffs and out-of-breath lead work, thundering drums, and outlandish vocals. Yet while all this stuff is going on, there's little in the way of substance. As a guilty pleasure, this is a heap of fun. But it's just so hysterical to listen to, particularly when Joey Lodes chucks in a ludicrous arpeggio before Gary Vosganian's cartoon vocals enter. I can imagine the producer leaning into the recording desk mic just before he hit record, "Fasten all seatbelts, seal all entrances and exits, close all shops in the mall, cancel the three ring circus, secure all animals in the zoo! Ludicrous speed, now!" Whether we should gush in awe at what we can barely believe is being thrust into our shell-like orifices or simply guffaw at the enormous tools on show, from start to finish, It Was Predestined is an endless eruption of ejaculations coming in your ears.
- A Futile Crusade