KREATOR – Krushers Of The World

RELEASE YEAR: 2026

BAND URL: https://kreator.bandcamp.com/album/krushers-of-the-world

With Gods Of Violence²⁰¹⁸, Kreator, an ANTIFAscist German band who, having attempted formation as Tyrant and Metal Militia in 1982 and Tormentor until 1984, finally had settled on Kreator as Miland “Mille” Petrozza (vocals, guitars), Jürgen “Ventor” Reil (vocals-1987, drums-1994) and Roberto Fioretti (bass-1992), seemed to have lyrically tried to warn us, Americans embracing what they, Germans, had puked up long time ago, wishing us fun eating their vomit, as I pointed out in my Gods Of Violence (interestingly acronym GOV, the suffix of a government website in the U.S. a coincidence?) review and now, 8 years later and with returning threat to our life, liberties and pursuit of happiness from the same gaslighting psychoreligiosexual cult of a demonic personality, we are found consuming that very vomit at our own request, or more like, at the request of those who were moronic enough to vote to have it served like the head of John The Baptist on a silver platter despite red flags practically gouging their eyes out. That is why titles such as the prophetic “Satan Is Real” (from GOV) or that of the first single “Satanic Anarchy” don’t impress me, a devout Christian, much because I see where the band’s frontman Mille Petrozza is coming from. To reference yet one more passage from my review, Satan may have been simply mankind at its worst and most pathetic, religion personified, not some detached supreme diabolical entity, yet in that sense all too real, indeed, a counterpoint to Abraham Lincoln’s “better angels of our nature” or perhaps a mockery of his legacy in 2018, but, cynically, it really seems like, in 2026, that “choice for you and me” is preferable to those faux corporate christocracies which suddenly have popped out in the past 10 years like zits upon the face of the Earth. I mean, what have we got to lose anymore as all good is evil spoken of and the incarnate chief of evil, psychotic imperator, is incessantly praised as the way, the truth and the life as if to mock Christ’s own identity, as we learn from the recent fiery sermon of his close personal witch “pastor”, in a country where, for the first time since 1945 being antifascist is now officially illegal?

Since, in Mille’s own words, age is no excuse, it’s a a number, a state of either a creative or a senile mind, the 59 year old thrash legend just 7 years my senior, Kreator had to release something worthy of complimenting that 2018 near-masterpiece, and I’m happy to report, they’ve succeeded immensely with this, their 16th full length, Krushers Of The World²⁰²⁶ (the K replacing C clearly a cool nod to band’s name as the album cover to its legacy) a collection of almost perfect anthemic melodic thrash and power metal. There are some who would scoff at Kreator’s love affair with stylings and themes of the power metal genre, but to those I offer a refresher that the first two albums Endless Pain¹⁹⁸⁵ and Pleasure to Kill¹⁹⁸⁶ were glorified power metal , yes, the latter also a death thrash hybrid, but thematically pure power metal, and it was only on the subsequent excellent Terrible Certainty¹⁹⁸⁷ that they became a true thrash metal act and throughout their two acclaimed masterpieces Extreme Aggression¹⁹⁸⁹ and Coma of Souls¹⁹⁹⁰, so that they are now coming full circle is definitely on purpose, as, in many ways, Krushers might as well have been eponymous like Megadeth’s final album released around the same time. It’s just that apparently, and I would even argue evidently, the Germans are far more creative than the Americans at this time.

There is something almost unfair about Mille Petrozza. While most thrash vocalists peaked somewhere between 1987 and the collapse of their hairspray supply, the man simply refuses to deteriorate. On Krushers Of The World, his voice carries the weight of four decades of controlled fury and emerges — impossibly — more commanding than ever, like a vintage Bordeaux that somehow keeps improving every time you uncork it. Add to that the surgical guitar architecture of Sami Pekka Olavi Yli-Sirniö, whose riffs arrive fresh as spring rain before escalating into full meteorological violence, Ventor thundering behind the kit with the institutional authority only a founding member can project, and Frédéric Leclercq anchoring the low end with the kind of precision that makes you forget bass players are so often overlooked — and what you have is a lineup firing on all twelve cylinders of a brand-spanking BMW that hasn’t encountered a speed limit it respects. The performances, then, are beyond reproach.

The songwriting? Largely magnificent, though occasionally it reveals the seams. “Psychotic Imperator” (yes, you’re hearing this again but let’s see, who can they possibly mean as we consider that there are a lot of world leader psychos out there but only one thinks he’s running an empire instead of a multistate country) is a throwback all the way to Extreme Aggression, here the crown jewel — a track that opens with deceptive calm before accelerating into thrash mode, deploying a chorus so simple and so devastatingly memorable it recalls the ghost of Human¹⁹⁹¹ Death (but consider which of the fourth respective albums came out first!), then pivoting through an apocalyptic choral passage that feels genuinely cinematic before landing a solo that earns its place rather than merely occupying one. It stands among the finest things Kreator have recorded in their entire career. Its immediate predecessor, “Combatants”, is my second favorite with its delicate strumming dissolving into a mid-paced riff before erupting into a truly epic wonderful bombastic power metal chorus that Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine wishes he’d written at any point in this musical career, rounded off by a genuinely excellent solo and a progressive melodic transition that rewards repeated listening. The aforementioned first video single “Satanic Anarchy” goes for the jugular — riffs with the forgotten authority of God Forbid, a supermelodic chorus that, again, flirts almost dangerously with Megadeth-level hook-craft, and a momentum that barely stops to ask for directions. Conjuring unexpected gothic shadows, the title track — Paradise Lost lurking in the verse, modern melodeath bleeding through the chorus — tied together by a creepy mid-song declamation that is one of the record’s most arresting moments. The tender ballad-introed “Tränenpalast” rounds out the highlights with its power-metal heart and Endorama¹⁹⁹⁹ warmth, guest Hiraes’ Britta Görtz’s growls mixing well with Petrozza’s shouts landing with surprising emotional sensitivity.

Where the record stumbles, it does so gently but noticeably. “Deathscream” opens with Petrozza literally screaming and never quite recovers its footing — the chorus disappoints despite spirited riffs and a solo with Death-tinged melodic instincts. “Loyal To The Grave” aims for anthem and finds adequate power metal, its choirs and solid melodic transitions struggling to transcend the familiar formula. “Seven Serpents,” meanwhile, is a perfectly competent opener whose Trivium-adjacent verses and Evergrey-echoing melody feel slightly borrowed — cool, certainly, but not the most confident statement of arrival.
And just one more small note worth raising: the secondary riff of “Blood Of Our Blood” bears a striking resemblance to “Psychotic Imperator” — whether self-plagiarism or unconscious recycling, it is the kind of detail that rewards attentive ears and probably warrants a raised eyebrow more than an indictment. Speaking of indictments, though, the former track, with its chorus slogan “eyes are useless when the mind is blind” perfectly seems to foreshadow the murdering of two innocent American citizens Renee Good and Alex Pretti by allegedly federal agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (I.C.E.) in the streets and on camera and then the oh so presently vividly White House and its sycophants gaslighting Americans about what we’ve seen, bidding us to refuse the witness of our own eyes in favor of the agenda of a man who lies for living like some type of imitation of Fletcher Reede from Jim Carrey’s “Liar Liar” before his son’s birthday wish.

As for Krushers Of The World – it’s Kreator, once again, doing what Kreator do — relentlessly, beautifully, occasionally imperfectly — with a lineup at the absolute peak of its collective powers. The writing falters here and there in ways a band this experienced should theoretically have ironed out, but when Petrozza opens his lungs, all arguments dissolve. Some wines get better with age. This one is practically ageless.