You know, I really debated writing a review today. For those of our readers outside of the US, it is Independence Day, which is a federal holiday. If the banks are closed and there’s no mail today, why the fuck should I be slaving away behind a keyboard? Well folks, sometimes the stars align in a way that can’t be explained or ignored. Case in point: I can’t think of a better day than today, July 4, 2024, America’s 248th birthday, to review Super Turbo, the latest album from Chicago based crossover thrashers, Texas Toast Chainsaw Massacre.
I’ve been an avid Toastamaniac for nearly a decade running. Lord knows I’ve gotten my fair share of bruises, cuts, sprains, strains, and so forth from moshing and diving at their shows over the years. I’ve also lost a copious amount of teenaged braincells from inhaling whippet balloons when they’d take the “stage” (a word being used very loosely here) at the old Pilsen haunt (a glorified storage locker behind a Mexican restaurant), the Fallout. The point being, this is a band near and dear to my enlarged heart, and a band who could ONLY come out of America.
Seriously, could you imagine a thrash band from Germany or Brazil or any other part of the world singing about the likes of Charles Barkley in a 1V1 basketball match against Godzilla, video games, slasher flicks, and Adam Sandler? Neither can I. All of this, mind you, on one thrashing mad blur of an album. It’s been 9 LONG years since we last got a full length from the Toast boys. Think about it: Most bands form, breakup, and reunite for the obligatory reunion cash grab in that period of time. Meanwhile, Toast remains the same: juvenile, defiant, humorous, and possessed by thrash as ever.
Are the riffs and arrangements predictable for the most part? Sure, but what more do you want from a release of this nature? Whether it be blatant Municipal Waste-core (“Porta Potty”), high speed outbursts (“People Tornado”, “Tokyo Gore Police”), or midtempo mosh-fests (“I Wanna Pet Your Dog”), Toast keep us thrashing and bashing from start to finish, uptight hipsters who pretend they weren’t puking up pizza to their ilk circa 2014 be damned. In a surreal full circle moment, Super Turbo closes with “Game Over”, which features a guest appearance from none other than Ghoul’s Cremator. It was nearly a decade ago that I caught Toast opening for Creepsylvania’s finest. To get this mutant out of his crypt for a feature must’ve been no easy task, but alas, the Toast boys pulled it off seamlessly.
With roughly 8ish hours left to this Independence Day, and assuming you’ve already blasted your fair share of KISS, Skynyrd, and ZZ Top, crack open a cold one (or 10), run around with fireworks, and crank up some Super Turbo for yourself and the kiddies. You’ll thank me later. The neighbors might not, but who needs them anyway? This is ‘Murica, baby! Land of the free and home of the brave! Raise hell, praise Dale, and long live the Toast.
7 out of 10
Label: Independent
Genre: Crossover Thrash
For fans of: Municipal Waste, Lich King, Cross Examination