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The Showdown's sophomore release is a solid album. Unfortunately, it is a softer side of the band than shown on A Chorus of Obliteration. Not soft by any means, but not the kick in the gut that you might expect from this group of Tennessee head bangers.

The album is full of more southern colloquialisms than before, with allusions to Lynyrd Skynyrd and  Mettalica. Lacking the guttural intensity that fans have come to look for, David Bunton doesn't push his voice to the heights or depths that he's capable of. Musically, the album is solid and brings back visions of mid to late eighties metal bands. The guitar solos are tight and clean. The overall result is a solid album that is more easily digested by the masses than before. Any other band could have out this out as a first release, and would have been praised as ground pounding. The Showdown bring this as a sophomore release, and they are questioned for softening for the sake of mass appeal.

I had a chance to hear the lead track "Fanatics and Whores" live about ten months ago, and it seemed to be a little harder edged than the finished product. Maybe the energy of a live show will put a little grit and bite back in these songs.

Justin Wright 3/04/07

The Showdown's "Temptation Come My Way" is:

a) Metallica meets Lynyrd Skynrd

b) Suitable for playing at monster truck rallies

c) Everything Disciple's last two records _should_ have been

d) Totally killer

Oh, you want more?  You can't handle it.  The Showdown have morphed   from being Iron Maiden on speed into essentially everything Metallica 
tried (and failed)  to be from Load on.  The change from speed/ thrash metal to more of a dirty-southern balls rock sound might turn  off some of ya'll fans who loved the group's previous effort A  Chorus of Obliteration_, but let's make it real clear:  The Showdown  is Heavy Metal.  Not metalcore, not death metal, not hardcore, but  dyed in blood, super-macho Heavy Metal.  If you've got a fever and  the only cure is MORE COWBELL, then the cure is THE SHOWDOWN.  Big  stadium sounding kick-drums, harmonic leads, wicked guitar-wanking  solos, and a southern boy belting it out with a distinctive tough-as- nails drawl for forty-five blistering minutes.

Yeah, The Showdown wear their influences proudly on their sleeves: This is Metallica meets Lynyrd Skynryd (with just a little of that  Bon Jovi/Poison glam thrown in).  It's not "hard", but it sure is  stinkin' heavy.  The bass rumbles loud, every guitar lick and squeal  is dialed in perfectly --- this baby's hot and rough, with barely a  hint of over-production.  In fact, it might be too rough for some  listeners, both musically and lyrically.   Lines like "We're mice and  men, and might have beens / Our heavy hearts beating like thunder /  The bastard sons, brought home again /Our heart beats still, we're six feet under" give you a good idea of what The Showdown is all  about.  Temptation's_ lyrics are quite removed from the biblical  apocalypse stuff from Obliteration;  Yet the boys haven't lose  their defiance, standing their ground from the get-go without pulling  any punches.  The lyrics are more personal, honest, and raw, covering  everything from alcoholism to faith to havin' a good time.  The  occasional cliche only mildly mars the otherwise distinctive southern  perspective brought to the table. Oh yeah, and they cover Kansas'  "Carry On My Wayward Son," only with detuned riff-rock POWER.

Anyways.  The Showdown?  Yeah, fellow Tennessee natives Disciple wish Scars Remain sounded anywhere near as loud and heavy (memo to  
Disciple:  ditch Wyrick, get Ebersold, thank you).  Metallica wishes  anything they've done since Black was half as good as "Six Feet  Under."   Temptation Come My Way is a breath of fresh air in a staid, boring, and repetitive metal scene.  The Showdown bucks the  trendy emo/screamo pretty-vocals-over-hard-music in favor of the  genuine article: flat-out heavy metal with the power to rock you like a hurricane.

Ryan Ro

Since listening to The Showdown, Ryan Ro has grown his hair out,   stopped shaving, cut the sleeves off all his shirts and taken to   wearing big fat Harley-Davidson boots everywhere.  His wife wonders   where her sensitive thoughtful husband went.  Blame the south.

MANLY tocks