Ostensibly political Richmond, Virginia, thrashers Lamb of God have rarely sounded as distinctive as their rep among a growing cult starved for quality American metal suggests. On their sixth album, Wrath, the fearsome fivesome opt for a somewhat varied but hardly visionary attack mode, occasionally lurching into a groove or tune. The song titles betray a cynicism over military and religious affairs, but growl-to-screech front-monster Randy Blythe never makes his anger coherent — not even with his sights seemingly set on mercenaries in the vomited heavycore mosh "Contractor." Wrath opens and closes with spans of placid subtlety — a welcome touch that doesn't make up for all the raging roteness in between.