Anvil Bitch - Age of Fear ★★★☆☆

HEAVY METAL / THRASH METAL | JUNE 2025 

FOR FANS OF: MOTÖRHEAD, NASTY SAVAGE, DANZIG

    THRASH-O-METER

★★★★★★★☆☆☆ SONGWRITING

★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ LONGEVITY

★★★★★★★☆☆☆ THEMES

★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ PRODUCTION

★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ MUSICIANSHIP

★★★★★★★★☆☆ CHARACTER

★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ THRASHABILITY

                         SCORE:                        

★★★☆☆ GOOD SH!T

39 years between albums is... quite a bit!

Back in '86 and after a stretch of covering songs of Metallica, Slayer, Motörhead and Exodus, these fellas dropped their original stuff in the form of Rise to Offend (which just had a deluxe re-release).

Its streetwise DIY charm flirted with Punk's raw nerve and Speed Metal's pulse, and it was pure, young Thrash Metal. Like many bands in the 80s' Thrash Metal craze, Anvil Bitch faded away - and life happened.

A DIY reboot

Almost four decades later the punk edge has eased into a more of an rock ’n’ roll swagger and the speed has dropped down few notches - but the DIY spirit still has a beat. The bluesy overtone to the thrashin' pushes stuff decidedly more towards Heavy Metal territory. The album stands as an independent effort, a record that feels like a lot of time and thought was put into it.

Age of Fear starts with its title track - and a boot to the chest, channeling raw energy which fueled their debut - fast, filthy, and fiercely focused. It’s with ‘Blackjack City’ however that the band’s new, melody-infused vision really hits its stride.

Split-up no more... maybe!

On the topic of vocals (no idea who the hell is the singer here - more about this later), it brings none other than Mr. Glenn Danzig into my mind. Its a similar kind of a case of a whisky-in-hand bellowing fella, bending and stretching the voice before catching a breath between the theatrics. The last song, 'By the Mortuary's Light', displays these antics at their finest and you can really appreciate the hollerin'.

Beyond War

Instead of outright war and death and such shticks, thematically we're deeper in our societal absurdities. The name of the album suggests exactly that: we are living in an age of uncertainty, insecurity, misinformation and downright fear. How much more horrendous a war can be? Well, a lot, but you get my point.

Writing catchy sh!t isn't exactly something you can fake, and sure enough, I caught myself yelling "Breach… of the Peace!" alongside its track. The thing just lodged itself into my brain like Judas Priest in their prime.

It’s also impossible to listen to a track like 'Remnants of the Rampage' and not hear the deafening roar of a chopper tearing down some long-forgotten stretch of blacktop, cutting through the great open in the American interior with vast skies, dry heat and towns with more dust than people. The whole album feels like a defiant throttle to rebellion.

Around 50 minutes, Age of Fear is a long-ass record by today's standards. With that comes a certain kind of pressure on the ol' noble craft of album-making: pacing, contrast, dynamic flow, those peaks and valleys that keep the listener locked in. There are bursts of full-throttle speed and stretches where things ease off the gas, but everything is wrapped a bit too tightly in an unchanging tonal blanket. Without more pronounced landmarks along the way sh!t starts to blur together.

Onwards to... somewhere!

It’s hard to say what exactly is going on behind Age of Fear, or even who’s playing on it as there’s virtually no information out there. Spotify reveals that the original guitarist, John Plumley, is credited as the songwriter, so at least there's one link to the past. Beyond that things seem rather nonchalant. Maybe this was it. Nothing more is brewing and this was just something "on the side", a fun weekend with the fellas. The lack of any kind of presence at the internets or the social media is proof enough. 'tis a pity, for Anvil Bitch rides with a disarming sense of heritage that's hard not to like.

There is indeed the distinct taste of an independent release here, but its not exactly what you'd expect; the sound is suitably thick and uh, bulging, delivering the kind of meaty crunch you’d expect. The playing is unapologetically meat-and-potatoes and theres nothing flashy in the production either - sh!t is good and alright.

Age of Fear carries a sense of likability even if it doesn't ignite a full comeback. Maybe it’s because of all thats been simmering over the course of nearly four decades. Whatever the case, the obvious creative freedom comes with its own set of problems - with the biggest being that a leaner selection of songs and a more purposeful look to the album's narrative would've made the journey more impactful.

Good sh!t