Bury Your Dead is on fucking fire. They also have a very high viscosity rate and a smooth texture to ensure maximum lubrication that allows this New England five man death machine to slide through the inner-most chambers of your ears. Forming in late 2001, Bury Your Dead has been growing strong, supported by the north east scene. The metal slashing and double bass maelstrom is great if you and your buddy are double teaming up on a log-sawing contest, but bad if you need some background music to fall asleep to.

Compared to the likes of Throwdown, Hatebreed and even Pantera, Bury Your Dead are on the fast track to the lovely world of driving, straight-forward, no bullshit metal super stardom. The chaotic cluster fuck of sounds and graphic violence on the band's latest album, Cover Your Tracks, is fueled by a pissed-off atitiude toward the people who have done the
band wrong - girlfriends and assholes alike. The snarl of the vocals master, Mat Bruso, with the assistance of the thunder head musicians is like receiving a point blank shotgun blast of malice and death straight to the face. The band keeps the album to a reasonable running time - there is a limit to how much metal one can handle within a certain time period. I'd say about thirty to forty minutes is a good overall listening time (with each song averaging two to three minutes) Bury Your Dead comes in just under the wire.

The song titles are some of the best cinematic masterpieces ever put on the silver screen: "Top Gun," "Mission Impossible," "Eyes Wide Shut," "The Color of Money" etc, yet have really nothing to do with the songs. If this kind of metal is to your liking then probably Bury Your Dead will be too. Go buy it worthless pawn. Blah blah blah blah . . .