It’s Darkthrone’s sandpit, we’re just playing in it

Permit me to perform a magic trick. Having not listened to a note of Darkthrone’s latest Darkthrone album, behold, as I begin typing a review: “another fearless, authentic, and infectiously fun tour through classic 70s and 80s metal, track X leans more into the classic doom direction of the last three albums whilst track Y takes us back to the roots of German thrash, retaining elements of crust punk, by now a perennial Darkthrone trademark! The dynamic duo’s enthusiasm for all things metal and punk – primitive and raw – has not faded in the slightest. Fenriz’s quirky vocals are as infectious and charming as ever, as is their penchant for quality riffing worthy of their 80s idols”. Tell me how I did in the comments and hit subscribe for more platitudes. But as I continue to shoot fish in this particular barrel I am also filled with a lurking dread. I have, in some sense, been had. Dependably contrary and wilful; you either buy into the Darkthrone dream, or you don’t. They don’t give a…