Master of Disguise - Explorations in Speed Metal and Iron Dan's Hut

 Welcome, children of Atlantis! Welcome to another beastly battering of burly bombast! On this bloody evening of torment I was visited by my old friends Fester Blackheart and Ophelia Skullbourne who traveled down D'yangi Mountain to the east that we might sample the rare delight of U.S. speed metal. Ours is a genre that loves to subdivide itself in ways that might seem oblique to the casual listener. What is the difference between death thrash and blackened thrash? Sometimes it's the drums, sometimes it's the lyrics, sometimes it seems like only the album cover differentiates one type of metal from another. We started out looking for the link between thrash and power metal forged by bands looking to marry the songwriting style of classic hard rock and metal with the lightning fast drums and snotty attitude of thrash and punk. On the table was a fifth of potato vodka and a bag of oranges. The needle dropped into the groove, and our journey began.

The first album we listened to was Savage Grace's 1985 classic, Master of Disguise. The album starts off like a speed metal wet dream, blasting out of the gate with the one-minute Lion's Roar. The Maiden influenced opener then gives way to a few measures of rumbling bass before exploding into Bound to beFree. From the first note to the last, 'Master of Disguise' is a deluge of molten steel, one of the primary documents of that exotic bird known as American speed metal. The hyper-fast rhythms fueling the music of their more discordant contemporaries (Slayer, MorbidAngel) are here, but yoked to the more melodic sensibilities of NWOBHM they take on a completely different feeling. Songs like FearMy Way, Sons of Inequity, and the title track point in a straight line to later speed/power bands like Helloween and Blind Gaurdian. Guitarist Chris Louge really shines here, crafting some crisp and speedy riffs that benefit from the concise playing of drummer Dan Finch and bassist Brian "Beast" East. The great trad metal vocals are provided by Mike Smith, who possesses that perfect balance between Dickenson wails and Hetfield rasp. These guys pack an hour of riffs into thirty-five minutes of speed metal bliss. All in all an amazing fucking album. 

Saga of the Gatemaster part 8.1 - Face the Wicked One

I had been through a living hell in the root and leaf caverns of Iron Dan. Lord Headron of Dantor who had taken over my body and caused me to slaughter my friends at the battle of Castle Thrashstone had not gone away when Bloodmace killed me before being swept into the death dimension. The faceless king had coiled his psychic tentacles around my nervous system and was waiting for another chance to attack when Iron Dan drew him out like the venom of a snake. Now I sat in the early evening gloom and pondered what I had just been through. There was another body with my brain. I clearly felt the terror and confusion of one who has no clue how to comprehend what is happening to them. When I connected with this other side, we squeezed Headron out. "But how..." I asked to the twilit air. I am startled to hear a deep, raspy voice reply, "Did you think about the patches?" Wheeling around I fix my eyes on a disheveled man in a worn leather jacket. His eyes squint at me a little from behind his wire-rimmed glasses, witch are perched atop boyish cheeks. Atop his head is a leather helmet and as he steps toward me I can see that there an additional pair of goggles surmounts the headpiece. "I'm Frostor," he says, offering his hand. "I was just visiting laughing boy in there," 

jerking his thumb in the direction of Iron Dan's chambers, "and I heard we had a visiting dignitary so I thought I'd just wait around to shake your hand, maybe see if you were interested in some...professional help." His unctuous manner made me uneasy and I offer my hand with trepidation as I reply, "I know not of dignitaries, I am here alone. What business brings you here to the forbidden forest?" Frostor, taking half a step back, sizes me up with his sleepy eyes and breaks out in a big grin. I grip my sword as he reaches into his coat pocket, every muscle springing into action at once. The mirthful mercenary drops his smile for a moment, raising his hands into the sky, "Just a smoke my friend, but if you prefer I don’t..." He shrugs and cocks his head. "No, sorry, go ahead..." I keep my hand on the steel while he retrieves a cigar from his coat pocket. The humor again returns to his face as he strikes a match on a rock nearby. "Awful nervous there bud. You have a rough time in the funhouse?" In the distance there is a rumbling growing louder. A sputtering cacophony that drowns out our voices as it grows nearer.

From the moment Lock Up Your Children blasted fourth into the Jenkabala listening chamber, we knew we had veered from the speed metal path by jammin' out Morbid Saint's Spectrum of Death. The proto-death vocals, the evil sounding riffs, we had strayed into the thrash zone (that's what you get for doing research on Wikipedia.) Ophelia and Fester were delighted, as sixteenth-note rhythms and aggressively chromatic riffs were part of their people's traditional music. As disappointed as I was that the album was not more theme specific, Morbid Saint really comes through with some devastating face stompers. There are no slow parts and a limited amount of dynamics, but damn these guys do it well. Crying For Death, Burned At The Stake, Assassin, these guys never let up. Morbid Saint are gonna be playing the Ragnarokkr Apocalypse fest in Chicago this spring with OZ and Eldtrich and we will be there thrashing the fuck out. 

Chronicles of the North Part 8.2 - No One Left to Blame

Frostor and I hug the wall of the sanctuary expecting the worst. Though remote, the Wyvern masters have patrols and scouting parties that roam these desolate forests in search of human quarry. The sound is deafening now, and somewhat familiar. Suddenly, the K car of Fester Blackheart slides into its spot next to the wall, showering us with dirt and rocks. From the compartment, we can hear The Ramones singing the ancient melodies of Fester's people. The Jenkabala daredevil jumps down from the driver's seat, laughing, "Oh man, you should have seen your faces. What brings you down here Frostor? This guy don't have no treasure for you." He is shaking his head and still chuckling when a woman walks around the other side of the car. She wears the denim and leather armor of the forest people and dust billows out from the vestments with each tread of her heavy boots. "Ya park close enough to the wall brainiac? It's not bad enough I had to wade through the shitty dimensions between here and the Time Desert, but you want to trap me in that death heap. Nice bud, real nice." Turning, she thrusts out her hand, covered in a spiked gauntlet, to meet mine. "Ophelia Skullbourne, at your service. Bloodmace sent me here from Castle Thrashstone. Lady Steel and the others have stabilized the tear in the dimensional fabric, now they are driving north. We are to prepare the Garn in the fortress of Chanthoth and use the secrets of the T'chah Karnac to subdue the Wyverns who are Headron's enforcers." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Frostor's head turn slightly, as if he heard 

something. The assassin reaches in his pocket for another cigar, but when he withdraws his hand from inside his bomber jacket it's filled with a blazing magnum. He pumps off six shots before i can hear them. I look around for an attacker but all I see are the dimly lit walls of the root cavern. For a split second, there is silence, then the sound of something falling through the trees. Six bodies. Some human, some sauron, all dead. Frostor walks to the pile in the center of the room, nudging each with his foot. He leans down to look at the last one and fires one more round, dangerously close to my head. I open my mouth to protest, but the thud of another body hitting the ground stops me. Leaning aginst the battered transport the deadly hunter strikes a match on the bumper and looks up at us, "You got room for four in that jalopy? These boys know that you're here and dignitary or not all of our lives ain't worth shit right about now. I suppose you didn't see those two sauron hightail it west?" None of us had. "Let's get the hell outta here now, I have a bad feeling about this." We start toward the vehicle but remembering the mystic in the cave I call out to the others, "What about Iron Dan?" From across the cavern, Frostor's laughter echoes out and he responds, "You really are green as they say kid. Get in, that old bastard will still be here long after these scaleheads vacate the scene." Tearing off into the forest, I reflect on the other person behind my eyes, and the faceless emperor who haunts me from behind the veil of dusk.

Our third offering was Helstar's 1986 release, Remnants of War. This was a much more traditional affair that really had to work hard for the money after the cheesehead onslaught that devastated our ears just moments before. By the second track, Conquest, I was sold. Though Helstar are lower on the speed-o-meter than Savage Grace, they still employ mosh breakdowns in most of the tunes, bringing them into the speed metal family. There is much Iron Maiden in these tunes, Bloodmace and I often are thinking of bands like this when we refer to "Metal Blade" style bands (Helstar made the move to Metal Blade on their next album), but there is an essentially American component to their music. These bands were sprung from the seed of NWOBHM, but their sound is much more aggro, the lyrics more paranoid. By 1986 Slayer, Metallica, and Megadeth were already well established and audinces were hungry for more. Bands like Savage Grace and Helstar were tireless road warriors who came to the rim of fame but never were to drink of it's soul killing waters, and perhaps that is why we romanticize these bands now. Savage Grace never released a sellout glam record. Helstar will never have a 'Load' lurking in it's back catalog (though both bands are listed in Metallum as active so there's always time I guess.) Even though Morbid Angel won the night due to block voting by the punkers, both the speed metal albums will always find a place in my playlist.

 
Words of the Elders

Climb atop Mount Tarvo and ring the great iron bell, heroes of today! This is the moment for us to unite from frost line to forest and shore to shore. The battle is afoot. The Wyverns, and thus Lord Headron, have discovered the presence of Bloodmace and Demon Scourge on the material plane. Can Fester Blackheart get Demon Scourge, Frostor and Ophelia Skullbourne to the treebound Chanthoth before the Sauron troops reach him?

Until next week, astral androids

Horns