Ancient VVisdom A Godlike Inferno
Shinebox Recordings
Yes, that’s VVisdom, with two V’s instead of a W, perhaps to denote some sort of kvlt affinity, and why not when you’re a band whose first recorded offering is a split with Charles Manson and your dark, acoustic doom is black metal played out as the Devil’s blues? Driven by a forbidden force of steel-stringed conviction and Antichrist alchemy, the Austin band’s debut, A Godlike Inferno, is more than a poor cover, fancy spelling, and men in costumed ceremony — it’s eight tracks of pagan chamber music, a melodic and catchy gush of neo-folk played by dudes in dirty denim vests. And nevermind that Ancient VVisdom contains members of the louder groups Iron Age and Integrity because this is simple, stripped down, fire-licking rock n’ soul, like Agalloch at a biker camp-out or Days of the New in corpse paint, which is actually way better than it sounds.
Check out two videos for “The Opposition” and “VVorld of Flesh” from A Godlike Inferno!
After almost ten years of releasing only splits and EPs — and not really wanting to become a real band at all – Cleveland’s cult metal band Midnight have finally succumbed to a full-length job, and it’s the genuine article, man. Led by Athenar, the same freak responsible for the brew-fueled madness that was Boulder, Midnight don executioner hoods, worship flame and steel, and rip through ten songs (eleven if you have the vinyl) of black metal thrash so absurdly good you’ll be reawakening neck muscles that have been retired since the early 80s. It’s clear that Midnight’s mission is annihilation, which they deliver to you, like a shitty 2 AM pizza, in thirty minutes or less, and despite the fact that Satanic Royalty is dripping with Venom inspired evil violence, its really powered by a degenerate biker rawk Athenar has no doubt borrowed from his Boulder days. Thus, every song, especially “You Can’t Stop Steel,” “Lust, Filth and Sleaze,” and “Shock ’til Blood,” sound like Cronos leading Motörhead on a black-winged ride outta hell and straight up your ass. Anyone who has stuck by Midnight over the years waiting for this day to come can go ahead and raise their gauntlets high. As for the uninitiated, prepare to be outright dominated by pure metal riff-itude.
I’ve never been able to keep track of Maylene’s line-up from album to album, and, in fact, it looks like there’s a few new beards this time around as well, but what I have been able to keep track of is the Alabama band’s Southern-roasted biker rock, which has always tasted as consistently good as a pig on a spit. The band’s appeal as white trash jug guzzlers has always carried certain weight with me, the inbred rage of album’s I through III irrevocably bad-ass, a lethal mix of metalcore and steel-eyed country power fused by shack burnin’ riffs and shit-drunk hooks. However, it seems as though someone filtered the swamp water Maylene’s been sippin’ for inspiration because with the exception of opening track “In Dead We Dream,” which is as close as the band comes to retaining any ounce of their previous nastiness, IV is — to put it in terms familiar to the band — a disaster. The frothy energy has fizzled out, the dirty heaviness has been cleaned up, and vocalist Dallas Taylor’s maniacal, backwoods barking has been carried away on some cruel prairie wind. In fact, a good deal of IV‘s songs sound like goth-treated modern day Bon Jovi ballads, produced exclusively for radio mediocrity. It ends, as all their albums do, with a back porch sun-downer courtesy of “Drought of ’85″ (that is if you completely disregarding whatever the hell “Off to the Laughing Place” is supposed to be, and I suggest you do), but its predictable reprieve comes much too late. It’s not the biggest disappointment of the year (no one’s going to take that honour away from Black Tide), but instead of tearing my shirt off and wrapping my mouth around an exhaust pipe I’m snacking on an apple and moseying on down the road.
Ancient VVisdom
Midnight
Maylene and the Sons of Disaster