Sadly, this just ain’t gonna make many waves • aside from with a handful of journalists, maybe • like it should, and that’s not meant in any way as a slight to Biohazard, a band who unwittingly yet conspicuously spearheaded the modern nu-metal movement, all but unrecognized for this fact. After a two-year hiatus and considerable label/lineup woes, Biohazard return to the fore with Uncivilization, once again proving that their brand of stomp-metal is one of the most formidable around, if only for the sole fact that it aspires to neither radio nor stardom. Consequently, it’s this factor that both enables Uncivilization artistically and hinders it commercially, as the New Yawk quartet’s white-knuckled, groove-over-grind, and occasionally atmospheric strain of stutter-chug that’s long remained constant continues unabated here, perhaps expanded by a blistering, full-on-pummeling production (courtesy of the band). At times, the band dip into straight-up NY hardcore (their roots, natch), and surprisingly, the title track recalls prime Prong with its atonal tug o’war. More surprisingly still, it’s the slew of guests here (Pantera’s Phil Anselmo, Type O Negative’s Peter Steele, Cypress Hill’s Sen-Dog, and scattered members of Sepultura, Agnostic Front, Slipknot, Hatebreed, and Skarhead) • not surprising how many there are (well, possibly•), but how well Biohazard keeps everyone in check and, above all, make it a band effort, never once slipping into the “too many cooks in the kitchen” syndrome (see Tricky’s recent and vastly disappointing Blowback). But alas, it’s probably all for naught, for the above reasoning’s gonna be a hard sell for the average 15-year-old in search of angry decibels. C’mon, give the dog a bone.

Sanctuary Records, 1540 Broadway, New York, NY 10036;,

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