As a semi-renowned gobshite par excellence, it’s genuinely not often I’m confused, but the levels of confusion upon first listening to Russkaja’s latest droppings Kosmopoliturbo (Napalm) caused existential crisis levels of befuddlement.

Firstly, there’s the inkling that, with Russkaja purporting to be a metal band, that this comedy intro is lasting a bit long. This is then followed by the dawning realisation and consuming dread that this is pretty much what the rest of the album is going to sound like…

Kosmopoliturbo sounds some sort of mix-tape of failed Eurovision entries; each one a sly hackneyed dig at another country covered in lashing of cheese, enough cheese to ensure a 100 metre perimeter be established to protect the health and safety of the lactose intolerant. This sounds like the stuff my neighbours dance to on a Saturday night when they’re smashed off their tits on something they brewed out of potatoes.

A quick double-check… Russkaja definitely claims to be a metal band. Surely this is some sort of typo? Is this the right album? I actually paused this and decided to check with my editor that this had come to the right magazine, and if so he hadn’t accidentally sent me one of his extensive collections of cheesy Europop mega-mixes [Ha, leave my love of cheese out of this – Rev Ed]. Apparently, it’s legit, that means I actually have to review this, Heck! Right then, this is calling for a cup of tea and a suitably high strength biscuit.

Still not 100% convinced this wasn’t a joke, I then decided to see what other magazines had thought of it, I found a smattering of glowing reviews on actual Metal zines. At this point I’m left in the position of the young lad watching the parade for the emperor’s new clothes, who upon pointing at the exposed emperor asks the assembled throng “Why does he have his cock out? Does he work for the BBC? Am I in danger?”

I found myself for the first time ever, and with a genuine conviction stating the dreaded words of the elitist, “That’s not metal…”

3.0/10

RICH PRICE