It's only possible to namedrop so many bands over the course of a single press sheet, but Hell Promise manage to try and relate themselves to some of the biggest names in rock from the last 40 years. It read like a who's who at a Rock ‘N' Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony.

Jimi Hendrix? Check. AC/DC? Check Nirvana? Check.

Those are absurd comparisons or reference points for any band just starting to get their feet on the ground, let alone a goddamn metalcore band. I could be wrong, but I don't seem to remember any lyrics about blood and dying screamed between double-bass drumming on any Hendrix albums. Well, maybe taking some cues from one of the greatest guitarists of all time would have pointed them in a better direction than the coma-inducing 30 minutes offered by Aim for Hell.

Heard it all before. Heard it better before. Heard it way, way better. Singer Brian Johnson's punishing vocals don't sound so much inventive as they do like he's repeating the same line over and over, song after song. The raspy screams are indistinguishable from anything any other nameless metalcore band has done in the last 5 years, and he doesn't so much as change the speed or pitch of his delivery for enough time to let people think a new song is starting. Everything is robotically recycled song after song, tired line after tired line. Before I purge further, I'd just like to let everyone know that on this holy grail of a record here is a song called "Brass Knuckle Nightmare." Seriously.

Back off or confront your weakness, son of a bitch / I'll fight you too, you know you've stepped in deep shit / Another brass knuckle nightmare come true, it's true / Forged in hell, this fist will pummel you / You'll bleed like a little bitch in heat, bleed / Nobody will come to rescue you, it's true.

Honest to God, those are their lyrics. This band doesn't even deserve me reviewing any further.

Trash.