Widow

Just when Widow seem like a strange brew of Iron Maiden’s operatic base melding with the snotty delivery of Mötley Crüe, which is odd in and of itself, the band twist the knife and drop a dollop of ’80s underground metal into the mix to make things really peculiar. They tear through verses with crisp, crooning vocals reminiscent of Armored Saint’s Jon Bush and the NWOBHM before shredding verses with scorching, throat-tearing vocals that delve into Jamie Hooper (Three Inches of Blood) territory. Accented by dual guitar melodies and searing solos, the end result is a sonic painting created with broad strokes. When one steps back and allows these harsh colours to gel, the majority of Nightlife is quite spectacular. Not only can the band play the shit out of their instruments but they’re obviously having a hearty laugh while combining subgenres with all the finesse of a cutting torch and three gallons of Jack Daniels. Yet where most bands that fail to let their influences coalesce into something unique come across as unoriginal, Widow’s passion, enthusiasm and touches of Venom ensure that Nightlife acknowledges where it came from while pointing towards uncharted territory.