Nowhere to Run - Hard Rock Hell and Rangar's Swanky Lair

Demon Scourge and myself are not always necro fiending to the most necro of necro black metal or sword fighting to the most epic of epic of power metal. No, sometimes we like to kick back, gather up some bitches, chug some light brewskies and throw on some of the sleaziest of sleazy 80's hard rock. We're a couple wind cutting gear jammers, slicing our fists into the night with the power of rock 'n' roll, baby. Unfortunately, the three hard rock hard-on's that we chose did not live up to our highly wrought low standards, making it, perhaps, in its own special way, the most brutal and treacherous Metal Night of them all!!!!!!

First up was the one to have the proud mantle of worst winner of Metal Night and that was Venom axe grinder Mantas's solo excretion Winds of Change. This Yamaha DX7 keyboard laden nightmare is actually a relic of a lost age, when briefly, hard rock bands thought that the way to riches and pussy was to drown out the guitars with the worst keyboard sound imaginable. Such AOR putridity was quite in vogue between 1985-87, until Gun's N Roses killed it dead. Even Poison had a tougher sound than this. What saves this album are the three instrumentals, which are unexpected and not half bad. You can pretend that this is some sort of prog band, and not Night Ranger wannabe's. You will never forget nor forgive that this is what fucking Mantas from fucking Venom thought he should be doing with his career. Winner of the night by virtue of instrumentals. Quite a prize.


Adventure In Samur Part 14.1 - Unchain the Night
I open my eyes to see two figures sitting at a bar. Light filters up through multicolored bottles of cordials and liquors, but the rest of the room is dim. Even with the back light, I can make out the figure of our betrayer, Jarkon. Next to him is a serious looking humanoid with long feelers protruding from his insect-like head. Every few moments, he would move his head and I could catch a glimmer of light from his faceted eyes. I couldn't move my head much in this cocoon I found myself encased in, but I could see Crowbastard and Lars on either side of me and what looked to be the figure of Bloodmace, suspended from the ceiling. jarkon and the other figure rise from their seats and wealk

around the room, examining their prisoners. Just as they are about to approach me though, somjething draws their attenion to the area behind us. I can hear or captors greeting the unseen figure with much ceremony. There is some laughter, then quiet footsteps and into my line of sight walks Rangar the Sectaurian, spider king. Upon his broad sholders hangs a long black cape and on his chest is armor made from living spiders, a mass of tiny legs churning uopn his person, topped by one giant spider clutching his torso and protecting his chest. Mounted atop his humanoid body is a ferocious looking arachnoid head festooned with eyes and two hairy mandibles that move as he speaks. "So these are the heroes of Centon?" From the cape, he produces a silver dagger "Let us see what they really are." He approaches me, dagger drawn and plunges it into the cocoon that surrounds me.

Next up was Dokken guitar wizzard George Lynch's loser excretion solo project Lynch Mob and their first album, Wicked Sensation. This collection of psuedo-bluesy ham and egg rock mediocrities sounds like a collection of songs that Don Dokken refused to sing. This was the sort of album that would set 19 year old Bloodmace into a killing frenzy that would end in shameful tears. I can handle it now, but this was the sort of thing that dominated the hard rock airways of the late 80's until it was rightfully flushed down the cultural toilet by grunge like a festering turd.  Here we find Lynch downplaying his masterful chops in favor of the mediocre songs and blues. Thanks, George. Vocalist Oni Logan sounds like ever other glam rocker of the period, only with less character. The sound is nice, shiny, and overproduced. Yes, there is a power ballad. The only bright moment was the obvious Dokken reject 'Street Fighting Man', which only serves to remind one on how badly George needs Don in the confines of the monument to the 80's that is fuckin' Dokken. Together they are best kind of cheesy magic. Apart, this is the result. I'm not familiar with Don's solo work, and frankly, I could really give a shit.

Adventure In Samur Part 14.2 - Secretly Cruel

I feel the weapon pierce the webbing that holds me prisoner, but there is no sharp pain, as I expected, instead I feel a tug on the denim vestment to witch the magical patches are sewn. He examines the garment for a moment then makes a high pitched clicking sound and a motion with his hand. With a swipe of the jeweled knife in his hand I am cut down. I hit the carpeted floor with a thud and the

spider king is above me, cutting away layers of web that hold me fast. When I am finally free, I look anxiously around me and find that we are all accounted for. Bloodmace and Lars shoot sullen and angry looks in the direction of Jarkon, who is helping to carry the still recovering Mistress Crowbastard to a small couch nearby. Rangar, sensing we do not trust him, speaks to us as Jarkon and the insect humanoid take their places by his side, "Please excuse the conditions of your entrance to our kingdom." His lilting northern accent surprises me with its soothing timbre, "I am Rangar and you are the ones we have been waiting for. I understand that you have used your magic and were located by the minions of Headron. Now that he knows you are here, he will stop at nothing to destroy you before you can use your powers to break his hold on Charbad pass, the portal that leads to your world. He has been disrupting the flow of time here with his attempts to control your world. If he is successful in his bid

for domination over Centon, witch is the most crucial link between all dimensions, he plans to sell it to developers from all over the galaxy so religious travelers from every planet can enter the realms of their gods." Bloodmace, who had not yet softened his harsh glare, bursts in in a loud voice, "We can deal with Headron on our own, let's get out of here." He stands up and motions to the rest of us, but Rangar holds up his hand and the guard standing next to Jarkon moves to block the door, hand on his laser gun, "please my friends, let us be of one mind on this." The spider king moves closer to the barbarian and puts a hand upon his shoulder. "The forces that destroyed Jarkon's home and have been killing his people are just a small part of this tyrant's arsenal. We can crush his army easily, but we cannot depose this evil king without your magic. Join us and save your world." The strange sectaurian holds out his hand. From across the room, Lars' booms out, "Rangar is known to me, let us join with him." Bloodmace looks around the room, Crowbastard and I give him a nod and he grabs the hand of the arachnoid ruler. Rangar looks over to his guard, "Send word to the armory, rally the troops. The end has come for Headron."

Lastly, we heard Kiss' mid 80's embarrassment, Asylum.  This album actually has a special place in my heart, since it was maybe the 4th or 5th cassette I ever bought in the discount bin at Meijer's. And I loved Kiss as a tyke and still do, but his album has not aged well. Kiss' propensity for hack songwriting is on full display and there are way more misses than hits on this one. The adolescent misogyny of the lyrics, along the fact that these were dudes pushing 40 at the time, is simply fucking creepy. The 80's were not very kind to Kiss. The make-up was off and nobody cared. Gene looked like a fat, pissed off drag queen. They were touring this album from hockey rink to hockey rink, from summer free fair to summer free fair, from bowling alley to bowling alley. Still, Paul and Gene have a knack for melody and hook, so you will be remembering these songs way longer than you really want to. Tears Are Falling is a guilty pleasure quasi ballad. Uh All Night is fun after 5 beers. And there is some decent axe work on this album, courtesy of Bruce Kulick, almost making up for the fact that the songs lack in the riff department. Geez, no wonder Frehley's Comet was getting more attention.

Words of the Elders

Rangar! Spider king and unholy savior, lord of predators with a thousand legs that creep unseen in the black recesses of a thousand worlds! Who can behold your minions without terror? The venom drips from waiting mandibles as our heroes close in on their quarry. Stay tuned for an encounter in Raven Pass!

Until next week, dead riders,

 

 

 

 

 

Horns