Kruger don't waste time messing around. Start the album, you hear a gun being cocked and then Ammunition Matters explodes into action, moving up through the gears like a speed demon. This is a familiar sound, the hi-octane, sludgy, almost-metalcore kind of noise that Mastodon made popular. There's none of the toned-down mainstream leanings of something like Blood Mountain, though – these guys are still dirty-as-pigshit metal.

One of the normal first reactions to hearing that a band sounds a bit like Mastodon is going, “But dude, they can't be anywhere as good! They don't have Brann Dailor!” Well, shut it. Dailor's a crazy mofo, but Kruger's tub thumper Raph rises to the challenge like a true champion. He sets up all the songs here brilliantly, anchoring the crazy parts with class, setting up mercurial transitions, holding back in crucial moments to leave space for the others and generally playing his ass off like an all-round trooper. Take a bow, man. Take two if you want. When you've got a foundation like this, the rest of your setup could be crap and it still wouldn't collapse.

Crap it isn't, however. The guitarist duo of Jak and Margo (his parents have a lot to answer for) impress right from the start and don't let up, chord slams punching out in between busy riffs, quirky harmonies being thrown out here and there to keep the listener from getting too comfortable (Queen of the Meadow and War & Wine showcase this best). The twin attack manages to sound dirty, melodic and ballsy all at the same time, with memorable melodies aplenty. Good stuff.

Reno's normal vocal styling isn't too far off from Brent Hinds' delivery, centred around the hoarse 'somewhere in the ballpark' yell and switching to a low throaty croon for the restrained stuff. I'm not really a huge fan of the shouts, as I usually prefer vocals sharp and on the ball, but amidst the mucky ruckus that the rest of the band makes, I guess it fits right in.

By the time the first four songs have rolled around, Kruger have already demonstrated an impressive variety in delivery, from all-out controlled chaos to a slightly more conservative chug. Holy Fire is where they rack up one more notch and slam the brakes to an eerily somber crawl, dragging the listener through the wall of sludge one inch at a time. It's also one of the few times you really get to hear Blaise on the bass – most of the time, he's an unsung hero propping up the bottom end while the rest of guys go nuts.

While it'd be easy for a band like this to slip through the cracks or get dismissed as a Mastaclone, they deserve way better. Give them a shot if you don't mind getting dragged through the mud every once in a while. And no, I don't know why they don't have last names. Some really badly organised witness protection program, maybe.



Year of release: 2007
Label: Listenable