We Will Tear The Fabric Of Space - Lars the Berserker and Swedish Black Metal in the Outer Dimensions

If you read this blog, you know that Bloodmace and I are big fans of the Swedes. I mean really, you could just have Bathory come from your country and it would more or less make you kings, but Sweden has a long history in the world of metal starting with bands like Heavy Load and 220 Volt in the early days, proceeding to play home to an amazingly influentual death metal scene with Carnage, Entombed, and Unleashed taking over in the early 90's. In the middle of the nineties, the melodic death sound took off and bands like In Flames, Dark Tranquility and At the Gates (amoung many, many others) became international superstars. Even unto this very day, Wolf, Ghost and Enforcer bear the blue and gold flag of this most metal of countries. When Bloodmace went on his mission of destruction in the wasteland of northern Sjantov, Lars the Berserker came to co-host, and the way was cleared for Swedish metal night part three...Black fucking metal

Kicking off the night was The Priest ofSatan by The Black. This is meat and potatoes black metal, necro right down to its toenails. The songs are concise and chaotic, with few clocking in above the three minute mark. I appreciated the dense and treble heavy production that had just the right amount of "atmosphere" (AKA cheesy synth strings filling out the arrangement) to keep my ears engaged. Special points go to the tune After my Prayers, for the wolf howls in the beginning. Arriving on the scene in 1994 via the US based Necroplis Records (R.I.P.) this was an early entry in Sweden's second-wave black metal scene and seems to be well regarded, if a bit obscure. Highlights from this album would be the title track, Lady Lilith, and Towards the Golden Dawn. I loved this album, but Hellmaster was extremely skeptical, especially after completely cutting the treble on the Thrashstone sound system, only to find that there was no escape from satan's own frequency.

Adventure in Samur Part 9.1 - To Give Death

From the lake before us there is a sudden, violent disturbance. The cold water explodes on to the bank, sizzling in the fire and covering us in a damp spray as a majestic reptilian head, perched atop a long scaly scaly neck bursts up from below the calm lake. The creature's radiant skin appears to be made of gold or some kind of metal. Two green crystal eyes glow in the recesses of its wide, glittering face and steam pours fourth from the horse like nose where dewy moisture collects on gilt whiskers. Parthon the elder rises and addresses the giant in a booming voice, "Oh great Memporian, allow these travelers passage to the realm of Dantor" The lake dweller's eyes fix upon the wizened mystic for a moment, then the great maw descends upon the roasting tot, launching shards of molten potato into the air with the force of its chomp. Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, the Memporian 

slithers up on the shore, revealing four stout legs and a spiky tail that splashes about in the shallow water. Speaking in a voice so low that it seems to rise from the ground, the tremendous creature 

addresses Parthon with a series of rumbling tones. Eyes closed, fingertips to his temples, Parthon listens intently. The Memporian turns its sparkling eyes on our party and when the glittering orbs fix upon me, it feels like the amphibian has sent a cold tentacle probing in my brain. To each of us in turn he explores our minds, then turns back to Parthon. His voice begins to describe a tune, the famous old hymn, Lysol. Parthon is caught up in a rhapsody, a beatific look upon his aged face. When the Memporian is finished speaking, he goes back to eating the tater tot. The villagers have returned to their huts and the fire pit is filled with smoking embers. At our table, an apprehensive silence has descended. Parthon remains at the shoreline, looking up at the opening in the top of this cavern that leads to the Narn sky and beyond, to Dantor. Bloodmace is first to break the silence, "So is it yes or no? We cannot wait here forever." Lars turns and answers sharply, "Watch your tongue, Parthon will answer when it is time." Mistress Crowbastard looks on impassively, as always, from beneath her inky bangs. Bloodmace, incredibly, holds his temper and gulps down the last of the ale in his cup, shooting a dirty look across the table at Lars. Parthon turns and walks over to us. He smile a little and says, "Calm down, young ones. The Memporian will take you as far as Tauric Ridge, walking distance to Dantor. You will climb down the ridge and make camp in the hills just before the keep. Bloodmace and Demon Scourge will summon a legion of Orcs with the Bolt Thrower patches. During the confusion, you must slip into the castle and finish Headron." There is a moment of stunned silence around the table, not because of anything unexpected in what Parthon has said to us, but the reality of our responsibility that is starting to come into focus.

 

Riding in on a dark stallion, I DetGlimrande Mörkrets Djup (google translated as "In the Dazzling Darkness' Depth") by Sorhin was kickin' our asses from the first bombastic riff. The jump in production value was noticeable right away. These guys definitely sound more Gothenberg than Grieghallen. The more complex riffing on this album, along with the almost constantly blasting, yet extremely tight rhythm section (featuring Zathanel from genre stalwarts, Setherial on drums) were much loved by both Hellmaster and Lars the Berserker. This was a really great album, a photo realistic painting of icy grimness comprising thousands of musical brushstrokes executed with an acumen that made the first offering seem a little like a blurry tintype. We had our first serious contender, but would they be able to withstand the swirling vortex that was to be the final assault on our ears?

Adventure in Samur Part 9.2 - Crossing Spheres of Fire

Snow drifts lazily down the portal above, illuminated by the steady gray light that filters through from the outside. The Memporian is chewing the last shreds of potato and regarding us curiously, with its head cocked to one side. The golden wings on its back flex a bit and the aquiline face turns upwards then descends gracefully into the water. Parthon rushes out from his domed hut carrying a large burlap sack with both arms. When he reaches us, he tosses the satchel upon the table and breathlessly says, "you can wear these cloaks to hide the magic from your jackets until you are ready to use them. Without these, Headron would be able to sense you the moment you entered his domain." Behind us, the golden lizard begins to click out as deep rhythm. Deep, syncopated notes appear over this sound and when the gruff scream of what would be the guitar part of the obscure chant Walls of Yawn erupts, we know the time has come. The four of us break into a run and leap upon the back of the shining beast whose wings are already beginning to create a deep impression in the physical surroundings. Rock and water bend and fold as the wings gather up the dimensional membrane that surrounds each reality like a heavy organic curtain. everyone is struggling to put on the black garments before our guide breaks through to Dantor. Just as I get my arms through the sleeves, the heavy gel-like atmosphere inside the barrier envelops us. Flattened to the rough back of this behemoth, I cannot see if everyone else got to suit up.

Craft's 2011 disc, Void, is one we have discussed previously here at Castle Thrashstone, as it was one of Bloodmace's top ten of the year. Tonight it was here to put its spiked boot upon the necks of its competitors. The crew really dug the thrashier vibe of this album, as we had all downed a couple beers at this point. With a gulf of more than ten years separating Void from the other releases, you can really hear the difference. On Priest of Satan and I Det Glimrande Mörkrets Djup, the riffs and arrangements were extremely orthodox, witch was de rigueur in the 90's. In the intervening years, however, the genre has taken on a raft of new influences and the Craft album showed that off neatly. From the sliding, atonal guitars of the slow n' heavy Leaving the Corporal Shade to the bay area meets Bayreuth sturm und drang thrash of Serpent Soul and The Ground Surrenders, this album was something of a departure from the first two thirds of the evening. The change was welcomed though, our ears were weary of the treble filled screech stew of the other bands. Craft was about to sew up the night when Emperor Mytoc of Jarn and Lars the Berserker formed an alliance to support Sorhin as winners of the night. A fierce battle followed and blood was spilled upon the Thrashstone listening chamber once again. When the dust settled, we had our champions, the mighty Sorhin!

 Behold Sorhin, the lords of Swedish black metal night! 

Words of the Elders

On to Dantor! The terrible battle for Jenkabala is about to begin and so the magic starts to accumulate around the spirit world. Take care, O children of Earth, for the beast wanders free in the forest tonight and you can hear the mighty wind in the sourwood trees. Ladies and Lords who watch over the mutliverse, hear our supplication! Great gods of field and forest, listen now to the cries of your  children, for beloved Centon is in danger.

Until next week time riders, 








Horns

Children of the Wasteland - German Power Metal and Parthon's Tale

German power metal. For some these words evoke the best of what heavy metal has to offer, soaring instrumental passages paired with uplifting lyrics about self determination or epic fantasy tales. To others, the term signifies a watered down version of 80's speed metal, worshiped by skinny nerds who whack off to cosplay photos. Power metal has many tributaries that flow into it's swollen girth, but tonight, we focused on those bands who followed in the vein of the legendary Helloween. Starting in 1985, the quartet unleashed three albums that harnessed the punky speed of the nascent thrash scene to power their hyper melodic riff machine. For our purposes here, these are the founding documents of German power metal and much of what would happen in the whole power metal scene flows out of these records. lyrically, one of the most important contributions Helloween would make was their positivity, on every album you can find anthems of self expression and personal freedom mixed in with the more traditional fantasy and horror imagery. After the golden days of '85 to '88, founding guitarist, Kai Hansen left to form Gamma Ray, and Blind Guardian (fresh from their stint as Lucifer's Heritage) took up where Helloween left off, swapping the more personal lyrics for the magic and monsters of Tolkien's universe. The albums we examined tonight hail from the turn of the century years and represent the state of German power metal ten years after the blueprint was laid with Walls of Jericho and the Keeper of the Seven Keys saga. Come, dear readers, come down the cobbled path that leads to the realm of mystery and adventure. Destiny awaits!

 First we examined Mystic Prophecy's 2001 debut, Vengeance. Slick production compliments the balls to the wall shredding by Greek guitar master Gus G, who whoops a good amount of ass between the covers of this tight riff fest, after all, what is a good power metal album without a hero? All the elements are here, from the meandering storyline that unites the album to the cheesy keyboards leaping out from the mix in the more dramatic moments, but this was not our winner tonight. To be sure this is a gonna be a sure crowd pleaser at any gathering of power metal geeks, but I was unimpressed by the modern rock leanings of 'Dark Side of the Moon' and 'In the Mirror.' Nice work boys, but not enough to defeat the contenders. Perhaps we'll ave to give them another chance sometime with their well regarded second disc, 2003's Regressus.

Adventure in Samur Part 8.1 - Phantoms of Death

The smell of potato filled the air as the golden shelled tot turned on the huge spit. Scattered around it were a dozen or more villagers, dressed in their ceremonial garb. Some stoked the flames, some turned the crank that rotated the delicacy and some kept watch on the lake from where the water lapped gently on the sandy beach. Bloodmace and I sat at a long wooden table with Lars the Berserker and Mistress Crowbastard, sipping at the bone cups of Va's excellent strong ale. At the head of the table sits Parthon the Elder, gatemaster of Narn. He raps his cup against the table and begins to speak...

Perhaps the most insane moments of the night were provided by Freedom Call and their fearlessly monikered debut, Stairway to Fairyland. With their off-the-cob synthphonic arrangements and the whole church choir singing about flying through time and space, this is one album that really delivered the chainmail-clad goods. Again we have a concept album, this time with some kind of quasi christian theme that weaves itself around the wall to wall shredding and blasts of Yamaha DX trumpets. I have to say I was thrilled by this one, though it would probably send most people into fits of convulsive laughter within a matter of moments.

Adventure in Samur Part 8.2 - Ride the Sky

"The Memporian will soon rise from its lair to feast on our offering. You have been told the legend of the denim and leather?" Bloodmace and I nod our heads silently, Parthon continues, "You have passed each test so far, my brothers and there is no reason for you not to know the true nature of the five jackets that were forged in the days of legend. As you know, the five Wyvern kings you disposed of were bound by magical spell to the five great houses of Centon. What the songs and stories do not 
 tell, however is the tale of how the five jackets came to be, for it was in that gray dawn, before the days of Headron that the great families of Centon, by means of blood ceremony, bound the physical world with the spiritual. This is why our great lake exists. Narn was created to house successive generations of humans who will not die but cannot exist in the temporal world. From here we ruled the world on the other side of the wall, going back and fourth from the spirit world and the real world by means of magical objects, those patches that adorn your jackets." His bony finger swings around the room. "The patches draw their power from our world and provide us with eyes with witch to behold the physical plane. In the days before the T'Chah Karnac ruled over Samur, the council of five would meet every season to tend to the business of the dimensional gates, issuing travel orders to the Gatemasters to visitors from all over the galaxy who would come and go through the portals in Narn and Waylor. Now, when the great upheaval came and Headron first burst fourth into our world, the northern families, the Huisketel and Chevelargo created the magical denim and leather armor for the warriors who banished Headron back into his dimension. They were sewn with the patches using the most terrifying ancient 

magic rites and your mother and father became legend when they used the magic to defeat the usurper. But what of the other jackets? Five were created, but only two were used to fight?" The white haired elder pauses seriously before us, eyes darting back and fourth between our expectant faces before continuing, "No, all five were used in the fight against Headron. Two in the Time Desert, where Castle Thrashstone would eventually be built and three in the sacred places of power in Centon, worn by mystics from the east, west and south, who transmitted their powers to the fighters over a great distance. This feat was later accomplished by the T'Chah Karnac in a much more efficient way in their invention, the Garm. The Wyvern's inability to discover this secret from the mystics when they fell from power was the main reason why the T'Chah Karnac were imprisoned in the enchanted tree in the first days of the lizards rule. This is your secret strength. Headron does not yet know that you have located two of the other jackets, so when you enter Dantor, Crowbastard and Lars must hang back in the hills near the keep while you two enter his domain. When the battle begins, you will know and you must use the Black Sabbath patch to link your powers and destroy Headron once and for all." 

Edguy, what a terrible fucking name, who the hell was at the controller for that one? Just in the past few weeks though, I have been hipped to a few bands who I have always avoided because of their unfortunate names, so what the hell, I figured I would try this one too. What we got was a nice collection of tunes from a band with no sense of style when it came to their album covers or name. There are some questionable moments on this disc for sure, the ballad was by far the most unbearable tune of the night, but the great tunes on this disc, like Nailed to the Wheel and Fallen Angels whipped us into an frenzy. The battle between them and Freedom Call was fierce and it was looking like Edguy was gonna take the night. Unfortunately, the ballad and the weakness of tracks like Painting on the Wall, that sounds like the long lost Bryan Adams song, left an opening for the Bavarian madmen, Freedom Call to come from behind and take home the trophy.

 Ladies and gentlemen, your metal night champions, Freedom Call!

Words of the Elders

 And so the final battle begins. Come back next week when the fearless four travel to the very gates of Lord Headron's lair. raise your fists in the prayer of our people! Horns to the sky and feet to the sea metalhead warriors. the game is afoot!

Until next week, sinful dwarves,

Horns

Pantera, Lamb of God, and Chimaera: Groove Metal Night at Castle Thrashstone

The Lords of Metal Night ride the forsaken plain on our dark steeds, down all the n'er trodden path of fire and ice, until a lone blazing tower glistens in the moonlight........CASTLE THRASHSTONE!!!!!! IT'S METAL NIGHT, Y'ALL!!!!!

Hellmaster loves him some groove metal. I am an old school thrasher and death metal geek. Demon Scourge is a commited thrasher and one man classic metal appreciation society. There tends to be some snobbery amongst us old school dudes when it comes to the new school. But we keep an open mind as we jammed out to the groove metal. If you are going to delve into that realm, Pantera's Cowboys From Hell is a good place to start. I had not heard this album in years. I first bought this album on cassette back in the early 90's and thought is was ok, but was not overwhelmed. My tastes were veering towards the extreme at that time, and this album was a little too grounded in thrash for my tastes. But it has aged well and I can certainly appreciate it more now. It is a well oiled machine, an unapologetic redneck bitchslap, with the Dimebag's tasteful and innovative licks and riffing dominating the scene. It's an album by a band exploring their new sound. Some songs work and crush, some suck donkey dick. They would perfect their sound on the more streamlined and furious Vulgar Display of Power, which is still my favorite Pantera album. This is the album I like to play out of my pick-up truck when I go down to the schoolyard and beat up some little thirteen year old half to death with a chain for being a little faggot. This gets my vote for Winner of the Night!!!
Jump ahead to 2003. The New Wave of American Heavy metal is in full gear. Lamb of God releases As The Palaces Burn. It is a classic of the genre. The riffs are Pantera informed, but chiseled to perfection by the hand of Swedish Death. I like this album the more I hear it. I thought Lamb of God were boring when I saw them live opening for Metallica. This is more my cup of poison. This is the album I like to play on my IPOD when I'm rescuing the little faggot getting beat-up in the school yard from an earlier incarnation of myself. I end up beating the little faggot to death when I find out he goes to Sunday school and likes it. 

Also in 2003, Chimaera and The Impossibility of Reason, also a NWOAHM adherent. This did not charm me quite so well. Plenty of distilled aggression and the band is well oiled hate machine, but it doesn't have the evil that I enjoy so much. This album lacks the personality of Pantera and the menace of early Lamb of God, preferring tough guy poses to actual hell conjuring. There are a million billion bands like this and they are all the same. You could say that about death metal, I guess, except they are also fucking righteous. It doesn't suck 12,000 donkey dicks, but I think this band has had a few bovine cocks up their tortured rectums. I am the Judgement of Metal Night.