Into the Night - Swedish Metal on Mount Tarvo

 SWEDEN!!!! The motherfucking capital of everything motherfucking metal! Motherfuck! Not only does Sweden rule the night with its peculiar brands of death metal, black metal, power metal, ect, but another genre of metal has arisen from the ice blasted wastelands: presenting.............The New Wave of Swedish Traditional Metal!!!!!!!!!! Demon Scourge and myself lifted glorious pints of  beer and brandy to the new metal godz!

Saga of the Gatemaster, Part 14.1 -  Beyond the Realms of Death

To return from the realms of the dead you must be guided to a body by a learned shamen, and so we were. Bloodmace, Master Raknar, Lady DeathCrush, Hellmaster and I had been returned to our bodies and cast into this snowy pit where we now faced off with the Gatemaster, a stone creature of birdlike appearance whose four arms terminated in dangerous looking granite claws. Standing twice as tall as any of us, it had nearly sent us back to that dark and sorrowful place where lost warriors haunt the empty plains like shadowy wraiths in an endless night when we heard something from beyond the rim of our icy prison, a keening noise that swooped down and faded away. The Gatemaster, temporarily distracted, was knocked down by Hellmaster in a well timed berserker fury. Suddenly, a savage riff, tribal pounding, and more figures dropped into the fierce battle. Above, a savage looking man in dark glasses was screaming down “Raging! About us! The signs of war are coming!” The guitar players had sailed gracefully down the steep walls of blasted earth that enclosed us and had begun playing the majestic harmonies that led into the last chorus of the old hymn. Closer and closer they came to one another and to the fearsome Gatemaster. Just as their frenzied playing was at its peak, the space between them began to buckle and dematerialize. The Gatemaster realized what was happening, but too late. From high above the lanky shaman leading the prayer leapt from the edge of the wall where he stood and sailed down, landing just behind the creature’s sleek head. In a rising falsetto he screamed out, “Unstoppable Force!” and ejected himself from the monster’s back, the backwards energy from his escape hurling the behemoth into the empty space between the sparking axes wielded by the guitar players.

First, we heard Portrait, a band made in the craven image of Merciful Fate. This would practically be a cover band if only they had not crafted a self titled debut album of the best songs Merciful Fate never jammed. Not highly original, this band sticks to the basic formula of medium register growl, piercing falsetto, and a quasi-prog riff attack, clever time changes, and Satanic lyrical references. The singer does not pose as massive a vocal presence as King Diamond, but settles well into the back ground, and lets the fantastic guitar work and rhythmic interplay do the talking. This is a great debut and we are looking forward to hearing more from these heathens.

 Saga of the Gatemaster Part 14.2 - Swordbrothers

For a moment the five of us simply stared at the three of them. The Gatemaster was gone and an eerie wind had kicked up, blowing the dry snow across the top of the pit, diffusing the hard light of the clear sky above us. The stout, gruff musician with spiked gauntlets strode over to us and offered his hand. “Hai! I am Baron Lotar, tyrant of Vorn. I welcome you back to life brothers!” Lotar breaks into a wide smile and the others begin to approach as well.  The singer in the fringy black leather is the next to greet us, “I am Moloch, the artist. Master of chants and eldritch symbols.”  From further afield, the blonde guitar player wearing all white leather, stained now with ectoplasm and his own blood, limps slowly towards us. “Hello friends, I am Hell Wraith, cryptophysicist and designer of the instruments we used to call you here. Let us all travel to the top of this cursed hole and meet the others.”  With that the battle worn mystic began to play and we began to rise slowly to the top of the crater.  There at the top we were greeted by two familiar faces, Lady Steel, who greeted us with a nod, and Vorthon the Whip of Fate. Bloodmace’s eyes light up at the sight of his old pupil’s face and the mystics grasp hands to forearms in a secret greeting. Vorthon’s glance darts around the group then he clears his throat and says loudly, “Friends. Let us repair to camp Arbon in the foothills, there is much…” He trails off as we all turn our gaze in the direction of the frightful noise that explodes from the south. Bloodmace and I glance at one another. Our father has awakened.

Secondly, we heard the already classic album from Sweden's original trad metal revivalists Wolf. Evil Star is simply one of the all time great metal albums, one that would have made this band superstars if only they had been born 20-30years earlier.. Formed in the late 90's, these chiggers were retro revivalists before it was cool, incorporating the best of classic metal like Priest, Maiden, and Merciful Fate, as well as fellow Swedes Heavy Load and Oz, into a sound that is uniquely their own. Evil Star makes the most out of its' Merciful Fate and Swedish influences. The production is shining(though the vocals are overly processed). We loved this album, and made it the winner of the night.


This was a hard night to choose from, though, as everything we heard was stellar and highly recommended. Enforcer's Into The Night was probably the most straightforwardly ass kicking, a rollicking journey into the days of the metal of yore. It was also the most speed metal tinged, though sounding more in the vein of Kill 'Em All era Metallica, Agent Steel, and Maiden's faster moments. Fast as it can get, this is metal firmly entrenched in the traditions of NWOBHM. Every track is a hot nugget of molten steel! Arrrgggggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Bang your heads, duders!!!

Words of the Elders

And so it goes, round and round. The metallic masters of yesterday have been awakened by the heroes of today but rushing up through the murky water of the past is the ancient titan, Bloodhammer. Father to Bloodmace and Demon Scourge, this towering pillar of judgement awakens only when dire troubles arise in the land of the living. What sentence shall he pass?  Has he come back to champion his sons in their quest to save the world of Centon or, like Saturn before him, devour them in fear and jealousy? As the sky grows dark around cursed Mount Tarvo, the demons echoing laughter can be heard  cascading over the Trawston plains...

Until next week, Agents of Steel

Horns 

Iron Gods - Running Wild and the Awakening of the Titans

 Power Metal progenitors Running Wild, for me, were one of those bands that always fell under the radar of my attention. Death/black/sludge/thrash/satanic sub-genre fanatic that I am, many of the fantasy oriented bands passed me by in my elitist halycon days. I dismissed most power metal and some old school metal as too cheesy for my subversive tastes. But since the inception of Metal Night, Demon Scourge has deepened my appreciation(sometimes at knifepoint), to power metal. I get it now. I'm still not as passionate about it as other musics, but that will always be the major difference between myself and the Demon, besides the fact that he is an evil bastard that needs to be sent back to hell and MY WRATH will  be his ultimate undoing, for I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!!!!! but more on that later. Running Wild are a well regarded and very influential band, so we checked out some of their albums.

The snow fell lightly on the frozen peak of Mount Tarvo as Hell Wraith set up the last of the equipment for their dangerous summoning. The party had traveled all morning to this small plateau, the birthplace of Bloodmace and Demon Scourge and the gravesite of Bloodhammer, their father.  Vorthon looked out at the valley below and the endless mountains stretching out towards the ocean to the south and the Time Desert to the north. It seemed like an eternity ago he took residence in the ruined shell of Castle Thrashstone where Hellmaster, Bloodmace and the rest of the titans of old had perished at the hands of the possessed Demon Scourge. For years he studied the secrets of the mysterious wasteland where the spiritual dimensions of the temporal world converge and strange otherworldly fissures split the kaleidoscopic sands. He knew the world of Centon was in danger; premonitions came to him in dreams and on his vision quests in the Time Desert. Now, he was here. The hour of this world’s deliverance was at hand. The equipment was set in a circular formation around a spot Hell Wraith had calculated to be the place where the portal would open. Lady Steel was behind the drums, tuning the bone-framed skins to the precise frequency required using a handheld electronic device. Hell Wraith and Baron Lotar were grimly assembling weaponry, magical and otherwise to use in the battle they were sure was coming. Their guitars stood at the ready. Near the center of the circle was Moloch, cross-legged, chanting his private invocations for strength, and gargling salt water. With a deep breath, Vorthon strode to the spot where the bass guitar Hell Wraith designed in his workshop in Castle Thrashstone sat at the ready. “Hai!” Vorthon called out to his companions. “Are you all ready?” Nods came from every quarter. “Let us begin the invocation with ‘Power from Hell’”

The first Running Wild album, Gates of Purgatory, is pretty sweet. It is basic heavy metal with thunderous riffs and gruff, gravely vocals. Not a lot of finesse or flashy solos(except for a few Maidenisms here and there), but plenty of power moves and catchy anthems. They have not yet developed the "pirate metal" lyrical focus that they became known for. This is pretty representative of the German underground metal scene of 1984, and it it a rough beast.

Even with the first bars of the chant, winds began to whip. Screams and laughter from other dimensions issue fourth from the glowing point in the center of the circle. Huge boulders dislodge from the mountains, tumbling down as if in slow motion. From everywhere a sick, wet sound grows louder and in the center of the circle, a horrible thing shambles through the gate. At first it appears to be a mass of rubbery, grey-green fingers tumbling over one another, but as it approaches Moloch a hairy, spider like head pops up, it’s mandibles dripping with slime. Thin tentacles burst out from its sides to ensnare the singer and draw him towards the creature’s foul smelling maw which was an abyss of tiny, razor-sharp teeth.  From behind him, however there comes a fearsome battle cry. Baron Lotar strikes with a berserker’s fury, his sacred sword tearing through spiritflesh, producing geysers of ectoplasm. The others continue to play and their strange melodies echo through the caverns of dimension x99344, where Bloodmace, Demon Scourge and the others are captives of death.  Moloch looks over to the others and screams out above the chaos, “Everyone get back! Get back!” The ground explodes blowing chunks of ice and rock into the flesh of the intrepid players. There is a long silence. Dust settles around the newly formed crater, revealing five figures laying in the steaming pit. The titans have returned.

The second album, Branded and Exiled,  is pretty much more of the same, with slightly more polish, a refinement of barbarian craft, of Teutonic steel! This isn't the sort of traditional metal that gets me really pumped, but the direct riffery and non subtle approach grows on you.

Jump head a few years, and their 4th  full album, Port Royal,  finds them in the form that they are best known for, as pirate metal & power metal progenitors. Actually, there really isn't a genre known as 'pirate metal', but never mind. They just like pirates, nothing to do with Adam Ant! This finds the band exhibiting major finesse, ala Iron Maiden, as well as liberal doses of speed metal influence. This is a staggeringly powerful album, unapologetic in its old school metalness during a period when thrash was all the rage. Winner of the night.

Behold posers! You thought your day of reckoning would never come. Now where will you run? Centon shall now be torn from the hands of the false! FOOLS! You believed you could size control of this world and turn it into a playground for wealthy intergalactic travelers but now the shining knights of metal shall storm your crystal palaces and take back this land of mystery and wonder from your gnarled hands. Let the hills and plains sing, let the mountains and seas dance! The titans have returned!

Until next week S.A.D.O.S.

Horns