More foully pungent than a bongwater and dipspit cocktail; as grimy and stain riddled as a porn star’s workday undies; and as ill mannered as a fart in church, Lair of the Minotaur plays the kind of defiantly filthy metal that, as Lemmy once proudly proclaimed, if it were to "move in next door to you, your lawn would die". The band’s embracing of all things old and noxious is especially noteworthy given that drummer Larry Herweg is better known for his metal day job with post-metal instrumentalists Pelican, whose recent crisp, cerebral work is a far cry from the battle ready riff reveling found here. Lair of the Minotaur’s first effort, ‘04’s Carnage, grabbed the attention of fans and reviewers, and Cannibal Massacre is an effort to usher in the band’s forthcoming full-length, Ultimate Destroyer, due early this year. As an appetite whetter, it's sublime. As a product, it’s largely superfluous.

Carnage wallowed unabashedly in the raw, balls out, old school ethos of behemoths like Celtic Frost, Slayer, and Venom, borrowing pages from their well worn but tried and true spellbooks. Cannibal Massacre picks up exactly where that album left off, which is precisely where you want LotM to be. After all, we’re not really tuning in to seek growth and innovation. This is all about the spirit of classic, underground metal, and Lair of the Minotaur has it in spades. Unfortunately, Cannibal Massacre only gives us ten minutes worth of their denim coated ghoulishness. The title track, which will also appear on Ultimate Destroyer, is presented in its “Extended Skin Reaping Mix”, which means that nearly four minutes of horror flick keyboard lines have been nailed at the end of the track’s normal five minute runtime, accounting for nine of the ten minutes of the release. Non-album track “Horns of the Witch” blasts away in rumbling, slash and burn abandon before ending abruptly after only one minute. A video for “The Wolf’ gives a little more value for your money, but it’s still hard to argue that Cannibal Massacre offers enough content to be worth the seven or eight bucks it’ll take to make a copy your own. But if you can get over the fact that it’s not the most cost effective way to dose up on old school filthiness, once you get the disc home you’ll be glad to have it. That is, unless that tiny, three inch disc puts you off. Think of it as a collector’s item. Backward looking retro acts aren’t hard to come by these days, but there’s a difference in worship-based imitation and a contemporary, genuine appreciative flair for a spirit that was born long ago but lives still, if you know where to look. And that difference? “Carnage Fucking Carnage”. Bring on Ultimate Destroyer.