Frozen by Icewinds - Grim Black Metal and MDF Report Part Three

You charge through the tundra, but the sun-zero temps is getting to you. First to go are your fingers. They are blackened stumps for the wolves to chew upon. Then your toes. then your nose. Finally, a light in the distance! You stumble through the waist deep snow and knock on the door of the cabin. Corpse painted youths answer the door. You see bones and signs of occult ritual behind them. As you enter the doorway, you feel the axe sever your spine. The black metal necro fiends are ready to feed. Welcome to Norway, motherfucker. It's Metal Night!

First off we heard one of the most devastating black metal albums of all time, Immortal's Pure Holocaust. With thunderous percussion and tremolo swirls does this album dominate the mighty frostlands, nay, I say all the lands that touch ice and sun!!!!! Immortal have a knack for making a three piece, actually a two piece at this time, sound like an invading army of ghouls. And, oh my, is it fast; the tempos are quite rigid and disciplined. This is the sound of the Nordic work ethic destroying Protestants and burning their churches to the ground for Odin. These boys work hard......FOR EVIL!!!! Winner of the bloody night, by a pubic hair.

Gorgoroth's Destroyer, Or How Tom Philosophize With A Hammer, ripped through the speakers with the force of a 1000 galloping hell horses, the self titled first track nearly falling about into noise

before being held in by a wicked riff half way through. These fiends seek no quarter in their quest for the evilest sounds possible. The second and third tracks, Open The Gates and The Devil The Sinner And His Journey, were less rabidly confrontation and more composed, laying bare the cold sonic architecture. This album seems to have as many guest stars as The Tonight Show. Gaahl, the world's most frightening gay man, make an appearance on the first track, as well as necro-fiends Frost and Pest. Overall, a pleasingly grave violating album for the discriminating pervert.

Speaking of Gaahl, the last album we heard was his pre-Gorgoroth/God Seed project Gaalskag. This is simple punk inspired second wave black metal in the early Bathory vein with noise and industrial

bits scattered to and fro. You may want to turn the bass up, as this is a very trebly affair. Avantgard credentials are firmly established here, along with cvlt status. Violates many graves. Rapes many nuns and priests. Satan laughing, spreads his wings.

MDF Report - Day Three

I awoke in the motel with Necro Baby staring blankly from the opposite bed. The final day of Deathfest had come. So far I had seen some pretty sweet bands, but this was the day I signed on for. Mentally, I was preparing for the onslaught of heat and fatigue that was to come by stretching and slathering on sun lotion. I skipped the Kafkaesque breakfast corral for fear that my sanity would drain completely before I ever saw a band. Once again, I made the journey to the heart of monument city

and once again got hopelessly lost searching for this minotaur of metal. When I finally did locate my parking lot the gates were about to open and I rushed out to the freeway underpass, thinking I would

be amoung the first in line, but when I rounded the corner I was disappointed to see the line already stretching over a city block and growing by the second. The time when the gate was supposed to be open passed, then another hour and still I was not really any closer to the front. Time dragged on as we inched agonizingly closer to the fenced egress. I could hear Speedwolf's first tune rumbling fourth from the tent near the entrance. By this time the line was stretching out further than the eye could see, snaking out from the shadow of Interstate 84 into the early afternoon sun. By the beginning of the second song, I was in. Rushing under the canopy where the band was playing to a packed house, I was treated to the first succulent morsel of the day. I was recently introduced to this band by Lars the Berserker and their live set completely exceeded my expectations. The rhythm section was seriously on point, providing a devastatingly simple platform for the Lemmy-worship vocals and 80's style speed metal guitar riffs. Best wake up call I've ever had.

The carnage continued with Cruciamentum , who played some great old school death metal. They started out strong with a blistering version of my favorite track, Fallen In Disease from their Engulfed in Desolation EP. It could have been just my enthusisam for this particular day of the concert, but I thought they were the best straight DM band that played. I was having fun, but my job was about to

get much harder. Across the way, Glorior Belli was starting up, but the Czech death/grind band Contrastic was about to storm the tent. I made my way first to see the the blackened Frenchmen peddle their unholy wares, a hybrid of stoner and black metal (two genres that almost never find common ground.) After the sting of having to miss Aosoth, the raw sounds emanating form the back stage were a soothing balm to my ears. I watched three songs then rushed over to the other side of the grounds where Contrastic were spazzin' out with fury. "Are you ready for our disco metal?" Asked vocalist Putti to the half empty tent. The sparse crowd was a bummer, because this band was really cool, but it was also a blessing as I finally got a chance to rest my dogs for a moment before heading back over to catch the end of Glorior Belli.

I was really excited to see Midnight after sampling some of their tracks on Youtube before my trip and I hope this won't be the last time I cross paths with their filthy blackened thrash. The executioner hoods are a nice touch but this is no gimmick band. You could say they are a newer Venom knockoff and you would be partially right, but these Ohio lads do it with class and a great sounding black metal edge. I would love to see these guys hit GR on their next tour. Pagan Altar is not a band I'm really

familiar with but I really enjoyed their old fashioned 80's style hymns to the elder ones. This band knows how to work the dynamics. Their performance was a time machine and if you closed your eyes, you might even imagine yourself at a 70's hard rock festival with them warming up for Rainbow. As they announced the last song, the crowd began drifting to the middle stage for Sacred Reich. Being one of the only older bands to survive with an intact lineup, I was pretty interesd to see them. They thrashed through tunes from The American Way, Ignorance and the Surf Nicaragua EP. I would have appreciated at least one more song from the oldest days, but it was pretty cool nonetheless.

Manilla Road was at the top of the list of reasons why I came out there in the first place so I grabbed a beer and sandwiched myself into a good spot. A smile spread over my face and the horns were in the air for the next hour as Mark Shelton and crew treated the audience to a good selection of the

band's back catalog, including blazing versions of the two songs I really wanted to hear, The Riddle Master and Lost in Necropolis. I could have listened to them all night, but I felt like i had to check out Integrity over at the tent. Slipping out during the middle of Manilla Road, I popped my head into the tent and got an earful of intense occult hardcore that drew me further and further in, but I just couldn't stay, I had to finish up the set with the Shark and his boys. After two excellent songs from the second Ohio band of the day, I hurried back to catch the last of MR's explosive set. Anticipation had been building all day for Sleep and they were now about to take the stage. The crowd gathered around the main stage in impressive numbers, and the kings of Sabbath worship fired up the spaceship. Now, I don't dislike Sleep, but they have never really done much for me so I hung at the back of the crowd as waves of distortion swept across the ravaged masses. Good set, but somewhat lost on me. 

Soon after the smoke from Sleep's set cleared, the crowd was split in two again as Ascension brought their darkly beautiful style of orthodox black metal across the stage in the tent and doom legends Pentagram lashed the spectators at the opposite end of the festival. Again I rushed back and fourth

between the two, catching The Ghoul and All Your Sins with Liebling and his conglomeration before looking in on the Germans, who played the entirety of thier 2010 album, Consolamentum. I was weary, beaten down and tired but Venom was to be the final band and I intended to check them out at any cost. The show was already running late because Sleep went over on their slot by 20 minutes, so by the time Venom appeared, it was already almost a half hour past their start time. They played every song I wanted to hear though, and everyone was pumped to hear their encore, but the sound got shut off on them. There was violence in the air as some random person got on the mic and told us the show was over. Soon enough, the crowd did what you might expect and tore down the fence, allowing everyone to leave at once. A melee ensued with several security guys surrounded by hundreds of angry metalheads. As I walked out into the frigid spring night cops streamed in from every direction. I leaned against a fencepost and closed my eyes, trying to soak up this moment for all it was worth before the long trek home. 

Until next week, cursed crusaders







Horns

Pagan Altar, Acid Witch and................YOUR FUCKING DOOM!!!!!!!

Warlords of doom quell the hopeful rebellion. Bleak oppression reigns supreme. We, the conquerors of the dark lands, chortle at their prayers for a savior, which are for naught. Under these malevolent tides do we gather.....once again, we shall have..............METAL NIGHT!!!!!!

Indeed, this was a special night for bloodmace and I. After our adventure across the forbidden sands of the time desert and our grueling journey through the wasteland that lies between Castle Thrashstone and Jenkabala Palace, we have returned! The forest shakes with the chanting of druids, celebrating the return of their masters. Hollow skulls pour forth the blood of posers as toasts to our pagan gods float to the heavens on jasmine-scented winds. This was a night of celebration and solemn prayer, a chance for us to give thanks for our great victory in the forbidden lands and distribute the treasure we have plundered from sacred altars of the rival gods.  Little did we know, a storm was on its way.

From the great hall came a great din. The sound of metal clashing with metal. The wet thud of bodies falling to the stone floor. Throwing open the great oak doors, we are confronted with the bloodied corpses of some ten druids and a lone warrior, covered in steaming gore, who carries with him treasures from the past. Tolar the mystic is among us. Indeed, we had heard the stories of this fearsome warrior who uses magic from the ancient times and fights with a blade of obsidian. We had always thought he was a legend told to sleepy children, a song sung by bards at the tavern to provoke bravery from young soldiers on their first march into battle. This was no figment of our imagination though. Tolar was here, and now we had to discover what business caused him to invade our castle and slaughter our druids.

“posers” Said he. “I have come from the dimension beyond death to warn you of posers on the march, they will water down your metal and try to steal your girlfriend. I have come to pass to you a spell of destruction that will devastate their armies and lay waste their lands. It must be used by the living, and so I have come here to fortify you against these usurpers, these lovers of fake metal, and these insects who crawl across the ground and devour the bounty of your realms”  

Waving his hands, he brings our henchmen back from the realms of death and produces two vinyl slabs that glow and shimmer in the firelight. 

First up, the thick, molten riffery of Pagan Altar laid waste the sonicscape of the Westside Palace. A NWOBHM band that initially recorded an album in 1982, only to see it released not until 1998, this is a band that takes it cues from Black Sabbath. Lord's of Hypocrisy, released in 2004, is a rerecording of older, unreleased songs. There is virtually no difference in the sound quality of either album. They still sound like Witchfinder General's older, more pissed off brothers. If anything, vocalist Terry Jones' Ozzy inflected whine is even more nasally and creepy. This, my creatures, is true doom. Four minute songs might as well take hours. 10 minute songs fill all eternity. The lyrics are a straight forward depiction of man's inhumanity to man, a catalog of crimes and trepidations. This is a sweet fucking album.

Before that, we sampled a 7 inch by Reverend Bizarre and Ritual Steele. This was pretty fucking sweet, short and sweet, though it took us centuries to listen to. You enter weird time when listening to doom metal. The drugs needed to produce such heaviness channel another spiritual realm, manifesting itself in the sound waves, which is lost in anything else but analog.

A horrible sound from outside the castle walls. Black rain falls. Tolar’s spell has worked! From the gardens comes the sound of hidden assassins being relieved of their cowardly skin. Glasses of mead are raised to our new comrade and we praise the dark gods for their blessings. Our guest then sups with us our simple meal of meat and bread, the conversation turns to doom metal as it often does, and Blood mace loses control. Again, chaos reigns as the rage of bloodmace spends itself upon the sparse furnishings that surround us. Chairs and tables splinter into nothingness as the berserker frenzy of our barbarian friend explodes into an orgy of violence. Tolar, always composed, always mysterious produces from his bag a magic powder which he wastes no time in deploying on our dangerous friend. A sprinkle of the sparkling powder and the evil Bloodmace begins to float, still thrashing and striking out with his obsidian blade at the air. From nowhere, the sound of Acid Witch envelops us and Bloodmace sinks gracefully into the last remaining chair. A beatific look of pure calm crosses his face, once contorted with rage, now animated and schooling Tolar on the dirty doom metal that assails our ears from the very air that surrounds us. Truly the magic of this strange traveler has no equal in this world or the next!

Tolar asked us to turn his ass onto something, so we obliged with trippy Detroit Rock City death doomsters Acid Witch and their 2008 debut 'Witchtanic Hellucinations'. This album is a dollop of death encrusted psychedelia,  accenting the crushing riffs and demon growls with lots of flange and reverb. Acid Witch's debut is, indeed, a good fucking doom album. The riffs and guitar tone are massive, the vocals gargly and creepy, the lyrics campy without being too self conscious, and it's all punctuated by some sweet psychedelic touches here and there. This band never takes itself too seriously, and the playing is loose, but not sloppy. Heavy stuff, man. Lot's of fun. This album is fucking awesome, but not quite as otherworldly as Pagan Altar, which won the night.

And so with all things good and evil, our enchanting visit with Tolar had to end sometime. Bloodmace and I were indeed sorry to see this mystic fade into the night and wondered what we could do to repay the kindness he had done for us on this black and starless night. “Keep the flame” says the cowled  figure, receding into the darkness (or was the darkness enrobing him in it’s velvet cloak ?) I looked then to Bloodmace, and when my gaze returned, he was gone.  How did Tolar know Bloodmace’s anger could be sated with Acid Witch? How could have he known about the virtual army that was about to plunge us into a long and deadly battle? Magic is all around us, everywhere, and in everything. Every Monday night is a door and behind it awaits strange and terrible adventures. Our mission is the total domination of this realm, and together with our brothers and sisters of the metal hordes, we will cut a swath of destruction through the poser lands. Who can know our feelings? Who can look upon the dark lord and still see the alabaster sky? The roads we travel are crooked and forgotten, as all things pure and free are and we trudge through the nights of sadness and solitude to open this door. When this portal is open the other worlds become clear and we can pass from one to the other as easily as you might walk from room to another in your home, but there is danger. Enemies lurk, beasts of fang and wing dip from trees and hidden caves and, worst of all, untold numbers of shambling posers destroying the lands we love. Who can know our pride in the face of ridicule and shame? We are guardians of the vast forest! We are strangers on the threshold! IA IA Let it be known to the hills WE HAVE COME TO KICK ASS!

 

Go fuck thyself if you think I'm lazy!!! I shall feed you to my starved Komodo Dragons!!! Have a spiked pentacle spear in your guts, you knave!!!!