Kreator - Phantom Antichrist (2LP) - 45RPM Yellow Vinyl

Kreator hit a fierce stride in the 2000s, but Phantom Antichrist felt like a fresh summit. Released on Nuclear Blast in early June 2012, it arrived as the thirteenth studio album from the Essen veterans and signaled how far Mille Petrozza’s crew had pushed their return-to-form era. It came after the rawer Hordes of Chaos and sharpened everything that makes the band compelling: high-speed riffing, political fire, and a newfound taste for melody that didn’t dull the blade.

The title track is a mission statement. It starts with a dramatic build, then barrels into a thrash sprint with gang vocals that stick. You can hear how Sami Yli-Sirniö’s lead work threads in classic metal harmony without losing the grit. That balance runs through the album. “United in Hate” opens with a quick acoustic flourish before Ventor Reil’s double kicks tear the door off. “From Flood Into Fire” plays the heavy anthem card and wins, big chorus and all. Even the deep cuts carry shape and purpose. “Your Heaven, My Hell” swings between chugging menace and a scalpel-bright chorus, and the closer “Until Our Paths Cross Again” leans into triumphant melody without a hint of syrup.

A lot of that heft-meets-clarity comes down to production. Jens Bogren recorded and mixed the album at Fascination Street Studios in Sweden, and his touch fits like a gauntlet. The guitars arrive in thick layers, each harmony line stitched tight, while Speesy Giesler’s bass actually has teeth in the mix. Drums punch with a live feel but keep modern precision. It’s the kind of sound that makes you want to crank a decent stereo and let the room breathe with it. The cover art by Wes Benscoter completes the package, a scorched and skeletal tableau that announces intent before the needle even drops.

Lyrically, Petrozza remains locked on the collapse-and-resistance cycle he’s chronicled since the eighties. “Civilization Collapse” became a flashpoint, with its video using footage from the protests and unrest in Greece that erupted after the financial crisis. Kreator have always kept an eye on social rot and authoritarian drift, and here that focus finds a bigger canvas. The words are pointed but not preachy, which lets the riffs do the persuading. “Death to the World” hammers its refrain with bleak conviction, while “The Few, The Proud, The Broken” digs into disillusion as a rallying cry.

Phantom Antichrist also landed well beyond the diehard circle. It gave the band one of their strongest chart showings in Germany and drew praise across the metal press, with many reviewers clocking how deftly Kreator folded melody into their attack without softening the hit. That’s the trick on this record. The choruses soar, but the tempos still race, and the right-hand picking stays feral. If you’ve lived with classic Kreator like Pleasure to Kill or Coma of Souls, you can feel the lineage. If you came in via the melodic death scene, this album feels like a handshake across the aisle.

On wax, the record shines. The Phantom Antichrist vinyl pressings from Nuclear Blast do justice to the low-end thump and the stacked guitars, and Benscoter’s art looks gloriously grim at full size. If you’re crate-digging for Kreator vinyl, this is one to grab alongside Violent Revolution and Gods of Violence to trace their modern arc. I’ve seen copies float through more than one Melbourne record store, and it’s an easy recommendation if you’re browsing or flipping through vinyl records Australia listings late at night. For anyone trying to buy Kreator records online, it’s worth seeking out a clean copy rather than settling for a beaten tour survivor, because the dynamics here reward a noise-free surface. Building a shelf of Kreator albums on vinyl makes sense for sonic reasons, sure, but also because the visual identity of this era pops on a twelve-inch sleeve.

More than a decade on, the album feels like a pivot point that set up everything they did next. It tightened the screws without sanding off personality, and it gave fans new warhorses that sit comfortably in setlists next to older staples. If you want to hear a band with thirty years behind them sounding hungry, you won’t do much better than Phantom Antichrist.