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There are just some bands that I would like nothing better than to take away their equipment and hit them over the head with it until they could no longer perform the necessary cerebral functions to write music. Tribuzy is one of those bands, hailing from everyone's favorite land of degenerate Power Metal, Brazil, an act that nobody would truly care about if not for their strange, strange claim to fame of actually having gotten Bruce Dickinson, Michael Kiske, Roy Z and Mat Sinner, amongst several others, to guest star on their one and only album, Execution. Yes, that's right, you did not mis-read. Bruce Dickinson and Michael Kiske. Guest starring on an album from this random Brazillian nobody band that will probably never achieve any major level of fame and have no connections or relevancy to the music world at large. I'm not saying that's an impossibility, it's just...really, really surreal and unbelievable, especially once one actually hears the quality of the material on display here.

If you want to know the first thing wrong with this, brace yourselves: both of the above vocalists only lent their talent to this album for one song each. Granted, maybe they knew how bad it was going to be and just didn't want to embarrass themselves more, but my criticism here is leveled wholly at the actual band here: would it really be too much to ask to have some relief from the monotony on here in the way of a Dickinson chorus or a Kiske wail? It isn't even like they use these guys to their full extent anyway, so why include them on here at all? What's the point? The level of thought put into this shit is about as deep as your average kitchen sink. It would take YEARS to fully elaborate on why this is so stupid. They had a professional studio, a professional producer in renowned metal guy Dennis Ward, several talented guest musicians, and this is what they come up with? It's positively maddening! They could have used the money for this to do so many other things, and they chose to flush it down the drain with this idiotic, creatively nonexistant assfest. I think my brain is melting. But enough talking about that; I might as well attempt to describe the actual music on here:

This is basically a horrible Judas Priest Painkiller rip-off, complete with a similar production job, a mediocre, generic vocalist that tries to imitate ol' Rob Halford every chance he gets (but mostly it just comes out sounding like a weaker Ralf Scheepers than anything), and songwriting that is almost unrealistically lame. There are no build-ups, no climaxes, nothing that a good band would use to make songs exciting. The songs start the same way they end; plodding and ambiguous. There is no sense of dynamic or intensity on here at all; it's the equivalent of reading a story without a beginning or an ending. Just listen to the seven minute - seven fucking minutes! - opening title track, and try to tell me that isn't two songs randomly meshed together with a whiddly solo in the middle. Or how about "Divine Disgrace," which sounds like the band wrote it when they were drunk or high - or both, with its random, insecure clutter of "metal" elements thrown together into a pot-luck of blandness. God, this is painful to sit through; there's nothing to hook the listener in at all.

The most astonishing thing about this is just that it was produced and released at all. This is demo-level crap at best, and sometimes not even that. I bet the only way Dickinson and Kiske really got conned into singing on this tripe was just by the band blackmailing them or some shit like that; maybe the band had their families hostage or something. Whatever the situation, this album is just horrible, and I really do not want to meet the kind of people this would appeal to. Just let this piece of festering Brazilian fecal matter die a slow, painful death. As for me, I'm going to continue repressing the violent urges brought upon by listening to this...