Atomizator - "Nuclear Booze Patrol"

 

Papy Jeff Metal's Favorite of the Day: ATOMIZATOR

Atomizator rise from the nuclear ashes: Your neck will pay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xP72DmEiXso

Forget cryogenics. Some bands don’t need freezing to survive ; they just need a steady drip of radioactive whiskey and a grudge against sanity. Enter Atomizator, a four-headed thrash chimera clawing out of Geneva’s underground like mutants from a buried bunker, radiating pure sonic fallout. Formed in 2015 but mentally stuck in a 1984 that never ended, these Swiss maniacs don’t play music, they detonate it.
 
Their debut album, Nuclear Booze Patrol (out Feb 28, 2025 via Witches Brew), isn’t so much a record as a contamination event. Recorded in the depths of REC Studio like some Cold War experiment gone rogue, it’s 33 minutes of unrelenting, sludge-fueled thrash that smells like burnt rubber and tastes like battery acid. From the 57-second opener U-235, basically a nuclear countdown set to chainsaw riffs, to the molten crawl of Toxic Highway and the skull-punch groove of 12-Gauge Carnage, this is speed metal with a death wish and a leather jacket two sizes too small.
 
No frills. No apologies. Just Bastien Roth and co. swinging riffs like sledgehammers, with drums that sound like a tank battalion losing traction on gravel. The vocals? Less singing, more war crime. Lyrics orbit a world where highways bleed, systems fail, and the only cure is more ethanol and velocity. It’s not new. It’s not trying to be. It’s a Molotov thrown at the feet of modern metal’s overproduced politeness and it burns beautifully.
 
When asked about their philosophy, the band’s reply was two words: “We strike with force.” Accurate. Minimal. Terrifying. You don’t listen to Atomizator, you survive them. And ideally, you do so slightly drunk, slightly concussed, and fully aware that sobriety is the real enemy.
 
So crack open a can of something radioactive, put on Laser Bite at 3 a.m., and let the whiplash begin. The future was bleak in 1983. Turns out, it’s even worse in 2029, but at least the riffs are still hot enough to melt steel.
 
Stay contaminated. Stay armed. Stay thrashing.

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