Recorded in a garage or basement probably, dank and dark. Smelly. Mold and beer. Mildew on the walls. Leftover haze of marijuana, remnants of the sweet leaf on a pile of records - Judas Priest, Motorhead, Subhumans, *** like that. True rockers with real spirit, not fools.
Overkill's
Power in Black is like most demos of its time. It's primitive, immature, what have you, but what it captures is the interim period between NWOBHM and thrash coming in full force. These are songs in an in between state, in between worlds, about to transcend like pilgrims. Galloping bass, catchy melodies of a Priest/Maiden variety, epic vocals and I don't mean epic the way teenagers say it now, I mean epic like The Iliad or Gilgamesh. Both works inspired Overkill. The drums are like crazy horses. Angry horses. Galloping. There's that word again. Smell of death. Battlefield. Destruction. Camaraderie, let us drink beer now. Beer!
"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles. Know thy self, know thy enemy. Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win."
