Casse Toi - French Metal in Keep Trawston

A sampling of the French Metal scene in the 80's:

First we heard High Power's first album. These frogs rock. That's all I can say. They were a 'high power' (heh heh i'm so clever) metal band from the early 80's and were completely unknown except in France, where the band probably performed exclusively in subways to rapists. I did not know heavy metal existed out side anywhere but LA, New York, and some bar in Ionia Michigan that used to host hair metal bands, until 1988. Metal in France was unimaginable. There is nothing that distinguishes this band, though. The riffs are sweet, the songs are forgettable, except for the slow grinding 'Offrande Charnelle'.

Saga of the Gatemaster part  10.1 – Master Control

The great hall at Keep Trawston was teeming with life. Cloaked priestesses hurried to ready the table for Lady Steel and her guests, some bringing trays of brightly colored vegetables, sauces and hot breads, others polishing the glass floor in the center of the strangely shaped room. The walls of the chamber described a five pointed star with a vast expanse of the center taken up by the thick pane of

glass, etched with the ancient symbols used by Lady Steel in her weird rites. The top point of the star was oriented to the east and its glass walls looked out on Mount Tarvo in the distance. The mistress of Keep Trawston was seated at the head of the long table in front of this point and as the table was readied, all but two of the robed minions disappeared into unseen doors. From the southern portal, Moloch the painter enters. Tall and lanky, his figure is covered from head to toe in clothing made from the tanned hides of thran, a large mammal common in costal southern Waylor, the mysterious artist’s homeland. His wild hair falls down around the collar of his jacket which is stuck everywhere with silver spikes. From her seat at the dining table Lady Steel greets him, “Hail Moloch. The others will be here shortly and we can begin. Your knowledge of the arcane arts will be a great help to us on this quest.  How far along are the shields?” Moloch seats himself at the table across from the noble warrior and biting into a piece of fruit replies, “Done. What is the news of Vorthon?” Lady Steel’s expression shifts to an oblique smirk, “We shall see, my friend. We shall see.” 

 ADX's Suprématie won the motherfucking night, though. Their brand of power metal tinged thrash inspired many enthusiastic head nods. This is a band that would have fit in quite well on Metal Blade's early 80's roster. Quality metal through and through, but I wish there was more Satanic goat fucking.

 

Saga of the Gatemaster part 10.2 – Vials of Wrath

That night, at the dinner table of Lady Steel, great quantities of food and wine were consumed. After days of harsh travel through unknown lands and battles fraught with tragedy, Hell Wraith felt his sore body relax. Trawston was one of the few free nations on Centon and the sweet air of liberty lifted his spirits. Even Baron Lotar, shaken and angry after his first encounter with the stern lady and her warrior priestesses, began to loosen after several flagons of wine and recounted several rousing tales of past glories that even Lady Steel seemed to thrill at. As the evening wore on and the business of organizing the next day’s journey was taken care of, Hell Wraith asked the question he had been thinking about for days, “Lady Steel, tomorrow we begin our travels. We intend to bring back the titans of old, your brothers.” All eyes are on the scientist and Lady Steel’s piercing green orbs light up. Hell Wraith continues, “Would you allow me to examine the Sludgetron? I think that we may be able to call Vorthon to join us again with it.” Now Moloch’s gaze joins with the others. The desert mystic was well acquainted with the haunted artist, for they were close as brothers when they studied under the great mystic Bloodmace, brother of Lady Steel. With a wave of her hand the high priestess indicates a lacquered box on a table nearby. “Go on to the glass floor to use it,” offers Lady Steel. Already her servants have brought his guitar and the small amplifier from his pack.Working quickly, Wraith wires the object inside the box, a metal rectangle

with several adjustment knobs, to his crude travel rig. Moloch approaches him with a piece of paper, “Do you know how to read this?” He offers Hell Wraith the score he has written out. The eccentric occultist looks at it with a furrowed brow for a moment, “Yes I think I can. You want me to play this?” Hell Wraith’s head bobs and he begins to mouth the notes. Moloch nods, “Play that. Vorthon will come.” Hell Wraith begins to play the simple tune written on the sheet. The music is hypnotic and the electronics in the Sludgetron turn the simple notes into a churning symphony of resonances, transfixing all in the room. Under the glass floor in the center of the room, the cloudy liquid that rises through the titanic butte under them eddies with violent agitation and the center of the thick pane begins to bubble. As the music reaches its crescendo, a form emerges from the boiling chaos in the center of the star shaped room. At first, the wet slop splashes up and freezes, over and over again, forming the shape of a body, then the features melt away and as the spent Hell Wraith lets the final note ring out into hollow, moaning feedback, a loud crack brings the room out of its reverie. Vorthon the Whip of Fate, grizzled dessert mystic opens his eyes, “Where is that little bastard? Moloch, as soon as I get off this damn floor your ass is grass!”

Loudblast is the kind of band that I really like, except in this case, I did not. Sublime Dementia is standard early 90's death metal with a few Celtic Frost/avant-gard flourishes that kind of ruins the whole damn thing, like a little piece of turd in your creme brule. I can't even explain why. It because I am an American, and the french might as well be from another solar system. They are an alien race of frog munching surrender dicks, and I just don't understand those bastards. Save the cheese, then bomb the French.

Words of the Elders

 Do you hear the rumbling of the fertile black earth? Soon the world of Centon will know blood. The evil ones have taken over Jenkabala in the north and turned the once free realm into an intergalactic tourist destination. But, soon the titans of old will right the looming catastrophe that threatens the important gateway from the temporal world to the spiritual dimensions. Hail to the new heroes, those who risk all in this land of magic and super-science!

                                                                        

Until next week paladins of praxis,

 

Horns