"Umm actually I need a priest."

"Excuse me?"

"I need a priest. You know, religious guy. It's not for me. It's for Tairrie B. You know the vocalist from My Ruin?"

"I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"Well, I just got their new record and quite obviously she is possessed. Her vocals don't even remotely sound female�or human for that matter. As a fan, I'm really concerned."

"Sir, this line is for real emergencies only. You're tying up the line with this nonsense. Don't call again or I'll have to report this to the police."

"But really�"

Click.

OK, perhaps I was being naive, but my intentions were pure. I mean, someone had to help the poor girl. It's not like her band-mates were lining up to do it. There's a companion DVD included with the record and one of the clips documents the making of the record. After Tairrie releases some truly terrifying banshee howls that would cause Linda Blair to spin her head away in fear, with great concern she asks guitarist Mick Murphy if she sounded like a girl, and he laughingly remarks that there were some real "hounds of hell s*** going on" and that she sounded like the devil. That was followed by approving laughter by both him and bassist Chris Lisee. Now that's real concern. And Mick is also her boyfriend! Guess things operate differently in Silverlake.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Possession is evidently just one more tool in the arsenal of a determined rock and roll band. And single-mindedness is hardly a stranger to this band. My Ruin is the Great White Shark of metal. Purveyors of the deadliest of purpose powered by an almost robotic sense of tunnel vision. Undeterred by outside opinions or social influences, you can be guaranteed they will follow their mission to the inevitable conclusion.

That coda is the expulsion of music from their creative well sources. My Ruin doesn't just like to indulge in some tearing and shredding. They HAVE to. Their very DNA dictates that. You are more than welcome to join them. You also have the option to oppose them. Just stay the f**k out of their way.

You see, with every new record, the band becomes like a prize fighter locked in a gym pumping weights all day. Muscle builds on muscle until the fighting machine is an unstoppable force. My Ruin's new CD Throat Full of Heart is a nuclear right hook that combines the culmination of years of experience along with their unquenchable thirst for release through the power of metal. The band's centerpiece, Tairrie B, howls with a fury that dwarfs all her previous efforts, no doubt pistol-whipped by the pain of the injury suffered from a serious car accident during recording. The band, Murphy, Lisee, and drummer Matt LeChevalier are as tight as Scrooge's wallet, with Murphy in particular, wielding a Rambo-like guitar that sounds capable of being adopted for use by the American military.

As always, the intimate nature of the lyrics draws in their followers like parishioners to the church of Tairrie B, and the minister does not disappoint. And while she is definitely the cast and script for this motion picture of the senses, then Murphy, Lisee and LeChevalier are the cinematography, location and crew. The music is sinewy and mobile almost like the audio interpretation of a ride on a dirt bike, twisting and turning, climbing and dipping, before bearing down and plowing straight ahead, all in the same song.

The record explodes with "Ready For Blood" and talk about shock and awe. This song sets the bar high by virtually kicking the grilles off your speakers. Tairrie B unleashes a bellow that is culled from all the restless spirits of the underworld channeled into one aural knife-fight. It's confrontation time in the My Ruin camp as Miss B rails against their latest enemy. After warning them to tell their God to be ready for blood, she barks that "Loyalty is just a lie. Time heals everything�except this hatred in my heart. Friendships that can cease were never true." She then sums up by saying "I'd rather be feared than loved". No worries there, Miss B. I'm sure there are many scars out there amongst the great unwashed.

The commanding "Memento Mori" is powered by a freight-train disguised as a band. Murphy's renegade pilot, kamikaze-style riffs sizzle like someone put a little too much lighter fluid on the BBQ. "Remember you are mortal � remember you will die" is the first line, more than a little spooky considering this was written prior to her brush with tragedy. "Religiosity" is punk-like with its Doc-Martens-kick-in-the-head framework. Like with many of the songs, Murphy employs a variety of riffs and towards the end of this song, he adopts a John Wayne swagger bringing to mind the biggest bully in a room, not even having to look up at his adversaries, so confident is he of his savage abilities. The muscle-flexing doesn't stop there. "Dragon Steel" beats its chest with a machismo that is amusing considering the gender of the vocalist.

Fans of straight-ahead rock get treated to "Slide You the Horn" which slightly recalls "Cold Hands, Warm Heart" from their previous record The Brutal Language. Possibly the finest moment of the record is the closing track, "Through the Wound". Musically, it resembles a lumbering beast, hell bent on destruction, sort of like David Banner's alter-ego. Lyrically, (it was penned following Tairrie's accident) it's possibly the most personal admission. Sometimes the aftermath is worse than a tragic event and life in a medical limbo is recounted here.

The aforementioned companion DVD is a treat unto itself. Beside several music videos, there are two separate clips of the band in the studio laying down tracks. The first shows the fellows throwing down the instrumental pieces and each member gets their moment to display their abilities, including a tasty segment with the guy Guitar Player recently named as one of the 40 most under-rated guitarists, Mick Murphy. Murph can solo with the best of them and his dexterity is given its due here. The next clip is Miss B's dramatic first trip to the studio, after her ordeal. It's stunning to see her calm, business-as-usual veneer give way to the rabid state she acquires in front of the mic. More grit is exposed in another clip as we are invited to follow along as she endures several of her many post-surgery doctor visits. Mick does the filming as staples are removed from her arm and we see the wounds. Powerful stuff indeed.