Paraguay’s thrash trio Kuazar are making their first trip to Birmingham, and by the time they’ve blasted through “Obscure and Violent” – just their second song in – they’ve already made friends. OK, given that their cape-wearing frontman has just told us it’s “about when you wake up in the morning and want to kill everyone,” you might want to be wary, but still. Heavy, with slashing solos, their songs have meaning. The slower “Silence” takes on male depression head-on – although, oddly, the extra crushing style suits them. “Truth of Reality” from their debut album is as old-school as it gets. And if there’s an award for the most thrash song title of the night, then “Future Necropolis” is right up there.
A slightly longer set than they’re used to means an extra song, and they use it for one in their native tongue, roughly translated as “Machete in My Hands I Won’t Back Down,” about the brutal Triple Alliance genocide in Paraguay. Perhaps the most primal thing they do all night, it’s a prime example of their power and skill – something that had been on display throughout. The final track, “We Do,” excoriates politicians and is a mighty example of the depth of talent here. From South America to middle England, this is a universal language.
There’s a palpable sense of gears being upped as Exhorder arrive. The rebooted NOLA mob have an air of menace from the moment “My Time” smashes its fists into everything. They bring that southern groove to what they do – it infuses everything – making the likes of the condemnation of religion, “Unforgiven,” a truly impressive proposition.
Singer/guitarist Kyle Thomas reckons they’re playing a game of “old song, new song” as they span both halves of their career, but the early stuff like “Death in Vain” absolutely thunders. Last year’s “Year of the Goat” only serves to highlight the quality across their entire catalogue. Thomas reasons that “that was a happy bouncy tune,” but the superb “The Tale of Unsound Minds” – a real maelstrom if ever there was – balances that. Their punk roots shine on “Exhorder,” which induces a sea of headbanging and sparks the first mosh of the night. Indeed, there’s still something of the outsider about them.
The fists are up in the air for the beatdown that is “Desecrator,” and when the lyric “I’ll piss on your grave” hits, you best believe it’s spat out with venom. As it finishes, Thomas screams: “We are Exhorder!” They are. And they’re still one of the best there is.
Thrash doesn’t ever get more thrash than Vio-Lence. That’s always been the case, but watching “Liquid Courage” here – on their first-ever UK tour – you can still hear the aggression that’s driven Sean Killian for damn near 40 years. And if MV is probably the only person that hasn’t played with the band over the decades (and you probably don’t need me to give you a couple of the names), then this 2025 lineup is vicious.
“Subterfuge” is your proof. That one’s off the seminal 1990 album Oppressing the Masses, and its opening track “I Profit” is still staggeringly prescient. “Engulfed in Flames” brings stage diving and a circle pit. “Officer Nice” rails against the boys in blue, and the hatred bursts through. Personal hell is explored in “Mentally Afflicted,” and it’s back to the debut record for “Phobophobia,” which continues the theme of brutal honesty.
“Serial Killer” (“One of my favourite songs that we play,” says Killian) is a blur, and the drumming on “Eternal Nightmare” is sensational. Indeed, Oppressing the Masses underlines just how good they still are. New bass player Jeff Salgado anchors “Kill on Command,” and the thread continues with “Calling in the Coroner.”
“We’ve got one song left before I die,” jokes the frontman, before adding, “We never do encores because that shit’s for pussies,” earning eternal gratitude from MV – which means “World in a World” ends things in the same brilliant, brutal fashion they’ve maintained all night. The band who once reckoned they wanted to be the “heaviest and nastiest” in the Bay Area can still crush better than nearly all their contemporaries. They bludgeon remorselessly, in a world where many others water it down.
And the reason comes in something Killian says: “There’s nothing better than playing live music. It recharges my soul.”
For 75 minutes here, it showed.
Come the apocalypse, I’ll guarantee thrash metal will survive.
Or at least, as long as bands like this have breath, it’ll never die.
