Despite the British / Canadian spelling of their name, In Defence originates from Minneapolis, Minnesota. They’re a party thrash / crossover band formed in the mid-2000s, with goofy song titles and an outspoken love of tacos, and between the silliness and the mosh riffs, comparisons to Municipal Waste are both inevitable and accurate. The wonderfully titled Don’t Fuck With The Dungeon Master is the fourth In Defence full-length, amidst a spate of splits, and it’s the first of any of those I’ve listened to.
If you’ve heard just about any of the retro-thrash crossover types that proliferated in the past decade, you know what to expect: fast riffs, groovy breakdowns, gang-shouted choruses… All the hallmarks are here, performed with the appropriate energy, if also with virtually no originality at all. Dungeon Master doesn’t break new ground, doesn’t push the envelope, and therein lies its primary (and really, only) fault. It’s party thrash, but coming now a decade into the thrash revival, it is a bit late to the party, and your appreciation of it hinges upon how much is left in your keg for this type of thing.
Still, if you can rally continued interest in the shout-and-mosh school of thought, and if you can get past In Defence’s inhuman hatred of pizza – and seriously, how can you hate pizza? It’s perfect! – then there’s some decent but derivative taco-themed tunes here. Second track “Tacos ‘Til Death” rips through two-thirds of its run time, before it boldly declares “pizza sucks!” over a chugging breakdown that’s perfectly suited for the toxic waltz. The tongue-in-cheek “Guns In School” expounds upon the undeniable fact that guns don’t belong in schools, but swords do because swords are clearly totally rad. (What? Were you expecting serious sociopolitical discourse from an album called “Don’t Fuck With The Dungeon Master”?) Vocalist Ben Crew barks and snarls, his voice often buried just a hair too low in the mix to be clearly intelligible, and he’s not above tossing in some Halford shrieks in the title track for good measure.
If Tankard liked tacos as much as they like beer, this is what you’d get – it’s sarcastic and silly, groovy, simple-but-pretty-effective thrash. You’ve heard it before, undoubtedly, but if you’re still plugged into this party and you’re still ready to rock, here’s a fresh six-pack and some tacos to keep you going for a little while longer. Me, I’m winding down, so I can’t say I didn’t enjoy this one, but I’m pretty sure I don’t particularly need another shot…
Although, really, that’s never stopped me before.
