Many of us enjoy death metal and particularly Master, a crossover between garage rock and proto-death metal, but we might acknowledge the Late Stage Hardcore problem here: when a genre gets too solidified, it becomes formula, and the formula reduces its core to the same thing as everything else.
In the same way the more ornate the metaphor of a postmodern novel, the less its parts have in common, and so its essence must become a simplified idea like the golden rule (Cloud Atlas), symbols losing referents (White Noise), or meaning decaying over time (V).
With Saints Dispelled, Master fire up the amps for an approach that is more Motorhead and Discharge than death metal proper, and with its verse-chorus plus a few shock transitions approach, a type of music that enters Late Stage Hardcore territory.
These songs are not bad, but they are not expressive of anything but pop hooks written into the Master formula, and because they are not evocative, they are not memorable. Like all of the worst threats to human life, that which is not bad but takes the place of the good is in fact a real threat.
With a heavy heart, thus one must conclude that Saints Dispelled will scratch that Master itch for a few weeks and then be forgotten, in part because unlike Motorhead, Master do not write a melody that unites their riffs, and unlike Discharge, they do not shape songs around an idea.
These tracks are catchy, energetic, and feature riffs cut roughly from the same cloth, just like the song structures. Maybe it is time to dig out Collection of Souls and Fuckin’ Death for the raw moments of the Master niche in metal history instead.