Strongest of the Night - Lady Steel Visits Castle Stonefist and Bands with Satan in Their Name

We had been celebrating the return of Bloodmace for seven days when Vecton the Bard burst fourth from a mound of cocaine he had been making into an igloo, "Do you realize it's metal night?" Wild eyed, he ran into the night, returning with three albums from the sacred vault of hot licks. Clearly, it was going to be a night of evil, a night of laughing trees and wicked emperors, but above all a night of satan Satan SATAN! As the gates creaked open and the flames licked the walls of the sacred Jenkabala Temple we could hear evil laughter and smell the sulfurous gasses escaping from the lair of the god of light. Charging like Maciste into the underworld, swords drawn, we confronted...bands with Satan in their name!

Noted NWOBHM stalwarts, Satan tore up the early slot with the great riff that opens their 2013 album, Life Sentence. A good, balanced trad metal album with really cool guitar harmonies throughout and a production that's just lo-fi enough to make it sound rough in the right spots. Interestingly enough the current incarnation is truly the classic lineup, right down to the drummer, perhaps that accounts for their remarkably on point recreation and refining of their original sound. Emperor Bloodmace's pick for winner of the night!

Lives of the Noble Centonians Part 7.1 - Tears of Blood

Lady Steel had traveled many miles to the southern tip of Centon. Her party trudged through the bright, rocky landscape under an unrelenting sun. The stern warrior had taken three of her high priestesses from their home on Mount Trawston to meet her brothers, Bloodmace and Demon Scourge. There had been talk of strange enemies in the northern forest unlike any they had thus far encountered. Word had been sent to the mountain fortress by way of bird messenger to meet at the home of Skyrock the Cursebringer where information from every corner of the strange continent

could be compared. The dwelling in question came into view in the high noon sun. A great crooked mansion, sprawling and mismatched sat impassively upon a far-off butte. Lady Steel motioned with her hand and the party stopped to water the theeba and rest before the final push to their destination. As the lizards long tongues greedily slurped the water they were offered, the women gather around their leader. Squinting her eyes a little, she addresses them, "We will soon arrive. Be on your guard. whatever force has penetrated the dimensional barrier may know about our meeting and send spies or assassins. The monks in Villa Stonefist are serious but trustworthy, but my brothers are not. I hear they have lately taken residence in the old Jenkabala Castle with the other relics of the north. Watch them closely, for they may try to steal from us."

Metal from Hell by the American thrash/power outfit Satan's Host was our second journey into the darkness. Everyone in the room noted the diversity present in the songwriting, moving from a thrash style that verged on black metal to soaring power metal sections and galloping speed metal, the composition and instrumental prowess easily overcame the muddy production. I first heard this album a couple years ago when Jag Panzer was the order of the day and I was hungry for anything with Harry Conklin's gruff wail, so this is a favorite of mine. The claustrophobic atmosphere of the recording and brain smashing tempos work together to give this record a cool "underground" feel that JP left behind after Ample Destruction. Recommended!

Lives of the Noble Centonians Part 7.2 - Siege Mentality

When Lady Steel and her party reached the top of the rocky hill they beheld an iron gate surrounding the hulking edifice that was home base for the faithful brethren of Elom and their high priest, Skyrock. The palace before them looked pieced together, one section with marble pillars and neat

lines, the next a ramshackle barn that was connected to a tall tower of black stone. They approached the tattooed guards at the entrance, muscle bound humans who stood impassively as the group of

cloaked priestess stood before them , "What is your business here strangers?" The statuesque leader of the group stepped forward, "We are the envoy of Keep Trawston." pulling back the white hood, she adds, "I am Lady Steel." The sentries cross their arms before their chests and open the gate. The travelers cross the grounds of the great house, a sprawling garden of edible plants in raised beds. As they near the palace, Skyrock Cursebringer emerges from one of the many doors that dot the front of the strange fortress. His tousled blonde hair rises above the bronze crown atop his head and wild eyes stare out from behind his high set cheekbones. A scarf with human and animal bones is thrown around his neck. He motions for them to follow and enters the stone tower. Up the spiral stair they went, to a room at the very top of the dim passage. Skyrock opens a heavy wooden door to reveal humans from every kingdom gathered around an ancient looking sourwood table. Her brothers, Bloodmace and Demon Scourge were there as well as Lady Birdblood, Vecton the Bard and Hellmaster. "Welcome Sister," Says Bloodmace, "Come sit with us, we have much to discuss." Behind them the door latches shut, the council is in session...

Our final foray into devil monikered bands was France's Satan Jokers and their album from 1983, Les Fils Du Metal. This was by far the most old fashioned sounding of all the music we sampled tonight. It's readily apparent where the songwriting influences come from. A little Maiden and Priest here, some Rainbow and Deep Purple there, in '83 there wasn't the dizzying array of sub and sub-sub genres that bloom in the blood fertilized gardens of metal today. In the early times, a metal band was a metal band no matter if you were Slayer or Hanoi Rocks. That being said, I found this album to be very listenable, recalling Blitzkrieg or early Loudness.

Words of the Elders

What terrible mysteries are afoot on the Centonian plains? Talk is spreading throughout the villages of dark riders and slithering fiends that stalk the lonely hinterlands when the wind howls and the moon casts its icy stare on the wilderness below. A shadow has fallen over the land and as in days of old, the heroes have come forward to beat off the invaders with a firm hand.

Until Next week, blood ravens,

Horns

Ketchup Post Part Six - The Forever People

Alas, I have returned from my journey to Inter-dimensional Whorehouse of Pancakes and shall now proceed to clean house. Gone are the smooth sounds of German hard rock. Gone are the power metal excursions. Darkness returneth with full force and  resounding fury, but in a slow kind of way cuz my back hurts and I am old. Yup. We brunched the metal death/doom style!

Indeed, the mighty Bloodmace had returned from his adventure in the hell worlds of yon and just one short week later, we joined with Mistress Crowbastard and Vecton the Bard to explore metal from the Philippines. Not content to rest on our laurels with this task, we narrowed it down to the province of Cebu. A hot breeze blew into the sacred listening room and the skulls that festooned the walls began to glow and sing. Welcome to island hell, motherfuckers! 

First up was a motherfucking classic gothic sludge fest in the form of My Dying Bride's debut As The Flower's Wither. This is an epoch crushing sad fest, and one of the heaviest albums in existence. The riffs here laid the foundation for the entire genre. Violin is sparsely yet effectively used, adding an interesting contrast the death metal vocals(which spew college student level dark romantic poetry), as My Dying Bride had not ventured into goth warbling as yet. Fast death metal tempos are employed now and then, so that you may hasten your suicide. Certified classic and the Winner of the Night, cuz I am the Judgement 'n' shit.

A Hero For The World started us off with some competent power metal, although none of the members seem to be Filipino. Despite their dubious background, the music was decent enough, made even better by the incredible shit show that followed. Stallions Of The Burning Church have a name that made me think we were about to hear some faux black metal Hot Topic bullshit but instead tore our minds with their sub-Black Crowes christian hard rock.

Next, Paradise Lost laid down the thickness on their debut, Lost Paradise. This is meat and potatoes death doom.  Genre defining though it maybe, it lacks the elegance of the previous album, delivering old school death metal (with better lyrics than MDB) with slower tempos than usual. It's a great album, though, setting the riff style and basic grim atmosphere that Paradise Lost is known for and expended upon in subsequent albums.

Just when we started thinking there were no good bands in Cebu Province, a squall of feedback and gruff occult lyrics exploded from the speakers. The mighty Astrus came lurching out from the swampy depths of a diabolical marsh, demon swords blazing with impure fire. Things had started to look up for us, then Signos began to play. Fires exploded from the walls and the servants of twilight shambled out into view as the primitive death metal scorched our ears. Winner of the night!

And now for the dark horse. Mournful Congregation's Tears From A Grieving Heart is an elegant, well played funeral doom album that I really did not like. This was mainly because of the whisper vocals splattered through out the album, which I think is more lazy than atmospheric and simply annoys. If you are going to employ faggotty whispers on a fucking metal album, do so like Metallica did on Damage Inc, which was sparingly. Otherwise, you are just trying to be Marilyn Manson, resting your voice between screams because you just can't take it, because you'd rather be having sex with hamsters than laying down some mighty meaty metal vocals at full force and volume. Who cares if you get throat cancer!!!!!!!! Which is really disappointing because otherwise it's really good. But Demon Scourge digresses, and I must make mention that this was his winner of the night. And now I shall slay him with the tiny axe.

 Words of the Elders
On the western shore of Centon, near the kipet mines and the abandoned city, an old man wanders along the beach. His long robes make him seem a monk, but the icy madness behind his eyes shines like a warning beacon. When dusk settles over the ruins he begins to pipe his horrible tunes into the encroaching darkness. One night, as he was regaling the ocean with the lugubrious strains of an evil waltz, something flopped horribly on to the shore. It rolled toward him, a cloudy sac of organs and fluid motivating up from the water. The bizzare orginasim stopped before him and belched up a gilded box from a barely visible orifice on its side. Inside his head, the old man heard a deep voice, "The seven spikes of Necro Baby. You know what you must do." 

Until next week, highway hustlers, 









Horns