According to an old review by Metal Hammer’s James Gill, there are two types of people in the world; those who like instrumental metal albums, and those who don’t (and those who do obviously own at least nine guitars, each with an increasing number of strings).

This is wrong. There a plenty of good instrumental metal albums; just look at Cavern’s excellent 2015 longplayer Outsiders [Grimoire Records] which is well worth a listen despite the fact I own zero guitars. Instead, it should read ‘people who like self-indulgent guitar masturbation albums, and people those don’t’.

Unfortunately, this put Marty Friedman’s new album, Wall of Sound [Prosthetic], at a disadvantage. The former Megadeth axeman is clearly talented – the guy played on Megadeth’s seminal Rust in Peace – but often with these kinds of albums the more talented the player, the more self-serving the whole thing becomes. And this is guitar wankery of the highest order.

Opener ‘Self Pollution’ starts off deceptively well with a wall of pure heavy shred. But then goes off a cliff and straying off into some overly flamboyant guitar work with some chilled mid-paced backing track. It dives back into the heavy with gusto, but the interest has already gone.

‘Sorrow and Madness’ has all kinds of classical flavourings including a violin vs guitar battle. It’s nearly seven-minute run time feels as long as a full-length symphony. ‘Streetlight’ comes across like a poppy stadium ballad to get the crowd to sway.

There’s plenty of different styles on offer, and there are more than a few moments that are decent. But it’s all enveloped by endlessly tiresome and unrelatable. Albums like this are stark reminders why we bother with vocalists and song structures.

‘Whiteworm’ shifts from metalcore-like breakdowns to a latin beat and back, and back, with some more mid-paced solo showcasing in there. ‘Pussy Ghost’ has a song name that stands out more than the endless stream of soundalike solos.

The second half is more of the same. Except for ‘Something to Fight’, which actual vocals. Jorgen Munkeby of Shining makes an appearance for what would normally be a very average song with a decent chorus – and a saxophone solo for some reason – but is elevated to being the highpoint of the album.

If you’re the kind of person that buys every release from Buckethead and thinks it’s a crime when the likes of Joe Satriani, Yngwie Malmsteen, and Steve Vai sully their work with guest vocals, this is for you. For literally anyone else, this is nearly an hour’s worth of incoherent noodling.

Friendman’s ability will never be in question. But you have to ask, does anyone really need to release 13 guitar-lead solo albums?

5.0/10

DAN SWINHOE