This is just a goddamn clever band name. Funny and dark and apropos at the same time — can’t think of another like it in extreme metal right now. I figured with the band photo — a bunch of shirtless, long-haired, be-bulleted dudes under deep red lighting — that this outfit would be called something like Deathvomit or Salgoloth or somesuch. So I appreciate the thought that went into it. And the beginning gambit of Nihilistic Vision chants of “Hail Satan” underlaid by guitar noise bleeding straight into a frantic galloping riff that is pure Dark Angel? Oh Die Hard, you know the surest way to my shriveled heart. The album is full of the sloppy, explosive, hyperspeed blurt that you can only get in good, real metal. Y’know the type, drawing from the well of early thrash and blackness like Hellhammer, Abscess, Genocide, Bahamirion, Sodom, and Destruction. The gents of Die Hard obviously spend at least 23 hours of every day living and breathing classic metal to the point of total osmosis — so it’s ridiculous to even fault them for having created a stunning sonic collage of the posters hanging on their wall. ‘Cuz it works! I pawned this off to a friend of mine just getting into metal and he marveled, “Where has this band been all my life?” Die Hard might be a little more skeptical of this praise, but man, this is leagues better than so much of the neu-retro stuff that has been coming out of late. Maybe it’s the vocalist’s shout melting into a blood-curdling scream or those eyepoppingly fun crunchy mosh riffs or the breakneck sense of urgency. Or all of the above. Die Hard are men out of time — but we can sure enjoy their anguish and dislocation.