From page 83 of Classic Rock Magazine April 2004
‘Scars Of The Crucifix’ (Earache)
Yes, Grim Glen is upon us for the umpteenth time. More than a decade ago, this was an event to be celebrated; Benton was a gigglesome treat with his sweet little branded forehead and his promise to top himself upon reaching the age of 34, having ‘outlived’ his nemesis, one J. Christ. Glen even managed to get himself chased out of the UK – and not by outraged vicars, either, but by animal rights activists.
It was all good, knockabout fun, made even more enjoyable by the absence of any sense of humour on Glen’s part.
Such po-faced extremism might have worked briefly in America, but not in Britain. When Benton named his son Damien, it became apparent that he was a one-trick pony.
A procession of dire records have followed, of which this is the latest. Ignored even by America’s Christians, Benton has resorted to writing songs called ‘Fuck Your God’. Oh dear.
One listen to anything by Slayer is enough to put Benton and Deicide in their place. Lacking the ability to thrill or shock, Benton is just another panto dame, damned not by his recidivist world-view but by his exhausted script.