Someone please don't stop this maniac called Nuclear Exterminator! After delivering one of the best speed-black-thrash recordings in recent years with Satan's Cross, the band’s sudden breakup had us muttering, “Seriously, now of all times?” But Exterminator didn’t sit idle—without missing a beat, he unleashed his solo project Impious Baptism, followed swiftly by the demo Seventh Seal of Abominable Extermination.
Now counted among the rising favorites of Hells Headbangers, Impious Baptism has already shaken the underground to its core with two EPs this year, pouring out unfiltered, lawless hatred. Considering the number of projects he’s involved with, this beast of a man—who’s handled drums, guitars, and vocals across nearly half of Australia's major underground hellspawn—returns with a war declaration that embraces the bestial chaos of Blasphemy and the scorched remains of Bestial Warlust. Across three utterly devastating tracks, the mechanized extermination squad carries out its mission with brutal precision.
If you're wondering what kind of atmosphere this evokes: imagine a nuclear dust cloud blanketing the sky after an atomic blast—one that rains acid and suffocates you with sarin gas pumped directly into your brain. It’s a maniacal ambiance designed to deliver the worst kind of death imaginable.
In this three-track war metal symphony of doom, not a single ounce of traditionalism is compromised. There’s not a hint of modern nonsense or polished innovation—just savage, warped death riffs; relentless, infernal snare attacks straight from hell’s drummers; guttural, borderline-vomit vocals that act more like parasitic infestations than human expression; and, of course, reverb-drenched, filthy guitar solos echoing from beneath the earth like demonic screams—an essential element in this kind of sonic assault.
Exterminator has focused entirely on speed, building each track around expertly crafted riffs that give birth to hellishly satisfying compositions. The chaos, the murky depth, the sound of war—all of it bleeds through every moment of the EP. It doesn’t feel like a studio product; it feels like an actual war broke out in hell and someone managed to record its sounds.
When revisiting 2012’s underground releases, this one must not be overlooked. But hey, you can go on playing your little scene-approved games with your fancy, polite tastes and still hope your trendy darlings will “maybe do something decent this year.” Meanwhile, this is the real shit—and it’s already here.