As far as side-projects go, Rob Dukes’ Generation Kill is one unlikely to hit the metal history books. Formed by the Exodus singer in 2008 with ex-Pro Pain bassist Rob Moschetti, the band play fairly standard groove/thrash with moments of off-kilter experimentation, some of which work, some of which don’t. The schizophrenic opening of Hate moves from acoustic guitar to punky thrash to group-singing ‘whoooa’ and back again, competently if not exactly screaming innovation. And when the following title track devolves into SOD-esque chanting about Eskimo pussy it’s tempting to give up altogether, but Feast For The Wolves shows a glimpse of a band with teeth, a strange Death Angel-meets-Slayer vibe coming forth which manages its clean-sung chorus well and a wild solo even better.

Elsewhere, things aren’t so good. The tracks take a varied approach to thrashin’, from Self Medicating’s slow groove to Depraved Indifference’s noisy late 90s’ Slayer-esque pummelling. For a genre so intent on mining the past, it’s good to see a band to ignore the late 80s in favour of the 1990s, because we all prefer our thrash drowned in groove, don’t we? Self Medicating even has Slipknotty whispering in parts, sure to help the band find a new generation of fans away from those fickle old-school thrashers. Having the first lyrics of the doomy Slow Burn as ‘my cock is hard as the bodies burn’ shows a level of maturity that will have broad appeal, and the Slayer-by-numbers riffing of Walking Dead will gain Generation Kill critical kudos aplenty...

...Yeah, so it’s sort of enjoyable if you forget your brain but those expecting anything thrashtacular would do far better to look elsewhere. Putting aside the heavy sarcasm, it’s genuinely hard to see the audience for this, given that most thrashers wouldn’t piss on the 90s if it was on fire, and there’s enough decent metal crunch here and there on the album for the members to know what they’re doing. Slayer fans in desperate need of extra chugging or those who appreciate lengthy ‘moody’ atmospheric pieces like Dark Days will be in heaven. That the album ends in a Nine Inch Nails cover really sums it up – a rare miss from Season Of Mist.