By 1995, Solstice had a couple of important releases to their name. The first was the eponymous 1992 album; a recording often described as one of the most accomplished debuts of the early nineties extreme scene. The second was the release from the line up of guitarist, vocalist and creative force Rob Barrett, who went on to hit strings for death metal's heavyweight cash cows, Cannibal Corpse. The following year, and with a refreshed line-up and a continued sense of social injustice, Solstice set about recording their second album, Pray.

Any doubts that the intensity of the band may have dissipated with the exit of Barrett are dispelled from the outset. The blasting introduction of opening track "The Unseen" threatens a wholesale death onslaught which is mercifully not sustained for the duration. Instead, bouncing thrash rhythms sit well amongst a smattering of angular death phrases and atonal leads learned from the Kerry King school of fretting. Riffs roll along before folding back onto themselves and opening out into heavy monoliths; or hit the listener with staccato punches before breaking down into brief contemplative stomps, which in turn accelerate into fully-fledged blasts.

Whereas the first album occasionally suggested the first formations of a melodic line appearing within the guitar tumult ("Transmogrified", "Eternal Waking"), the playing here assumes a rhythmic-orientated and largely atonal role for the most part. One churning phrase collapses into the next, creating patterns which - although perhaps less well-defined - lend an intuitive relevance to each track through their developing of momentum.

Production is effective without ever being overstated. Everything finds its own place in the mix and it stays there throughout. The dual guitar lines remain hard-panned for the whole album, the clanking bass holds the centre ground whilst sounding like an industrial-strength spring being hit with a sledgehammer. The arrangement is held back just enough to maintain cohesion and accentuate the heaviness. Too often you will find a potentially crushing album rendered impotent by an expansive and airy mix that sounds like the band members are playing in separate continents rather than separate sound booths. Everything here though is compressed together and attacks as a thick, single entity that hits the listener like a crushed automobile flung from a rooftop.

Perhaps the most noticeable difference between the production of this and the immense self-titled release is the role of the vocals. The previous album gave centre stage to the diatribes and social criticisms of Barrett's observed monologue, and they were placed highly in the overall mix. This lent a sense of immediacy and focus to the performance and effectively defined Solstice as a lyrical album. Here, the vocals are somewhat lower in the mix by comparison and with the guitar solos pushed further up. Consequently, this creates the impression that Pray is a guitar album. This is something of an injustice to the (again) excellent lyrical content that far exceeds the penmanship of many a bigger name band in this field. The bilious assaults fired at the corporate world by the first album were the essence of the recording; cutting lines like "I wish I had eyes in the back of my head, Coz I know I'm gonna need them" reverberated for hours after listening.

It is a small but significant oversight then, that there are no moments like that here. For this reason, Pray is an album of execution and accomplishment superior to most, but it is still not as vital as its predecessor. If you are unfamiliar with the band, buy the self-titled first album and be blown away. If you have already heard their best work and want more, then pick this up; you will not be disappointed.