Talk about obscurity, just look at Satan’s Host! The band’s original incarnation featured Harry Conklin as their vocalist before splitting after a famed debut, but guitarist Patrick Evil resurfaced again with new members and an utter transformation into black/death metal unlike other groups doing similar activities. Still, Satan’s Host stayed dangerously consistent throughout dynamic recordings such as “Burning the Born Again” that pushed new frontiers beyond what eyes could see; charged with influences unbeknownst to expected ears, powerful progression moved the cosmos under Leviathan’s comrades. So, thirty years have passed since conception, yet “The Great American Scapegoat” marks another stage in this group’s fantastic legacy, focusing on successfully shoving the limits of death/black metal once again. You see, not all scapegoats are bad!

Through psychic walls, Satan’s Host warmly embraces witchery that disguises itself in chameleonic forms. Bending like a slut, these gentlemen firmly grasp items melodic, furious, calming, chaotic, and generally awesome to one’s eardrum. This record practices qualities most black/death metal bands preach, but still nothing generic when worshiped here: sharp tremolo picking, fantastic balancing between blast-beats and memorable patterns in the percussion sense, twisted vocals, and old-school solos. But who gets a trophy? Eli Elixir! Face it, the guy has a serious skill behind his flaming larynx; I mean he growls in a singing voice! That’s incredible, or not even possible! Yea some folks might find the album’s lyrics a bit laughable or even disturbing, but that’s how things are done in the Satan’s Host camp. Musically, they can alter any loss on a poetic basis back to darkened fields of instrumental chaos, hence why “The Great American Scapegoat” will easily induce neck-snapping reactions upon first listens.

Also, do I smell a little experimentation? I must! Indeed, a few documentaries about their writing process of this record depict Patrick Evil explaining how he viewed the production a little different than his previous efforts, as seen by chat of using multiple amplifiers, guitars, and other tampering ideas. Of course, his guitar tone waddles from different keys all over the sound barrier, even applying acoustics throughout several anthems, which creates something quite colorful from his performances. Likewise, things seem drawn on atmosphere rather than straight-up brutality; again, another impeccable flip adding enjoyable hues past what a mind would apprehend. At day’s conclusion, Satan’s Host is one of my all-time favorite bands, and this album is just fuel for the tank. Is that how black magic works, guys?

Thirty years of dimension-hopping didn’t have a chance at stopping Satan’s Host here, plus the new slithers of experimental patterns added much more tint to their stellar identity than expectations could foresee; indeed a prodigious offering pushing the configuration and mixture of rabid sub-genres into a single blender of instrumental brilliance. The main thing I really appreciate is the utter balls these guys have. They know metal has no rules, and Satan’s Host continues bending and breaking norms others would not attempt, thus explaining why this record feels like a metallic spell rather than some generic crap.

However, “The Great American Scapegoat” is a great album, and Satan’s Host is a wonderful squad many would fundamentally love, so ditch those junky black/death metal CDs you scorn and buy this mighty coin of extreme metal done right. Bam!