Orange Goblin A Eulogy for the Damned
Candlelight Records
If you’ve got a beard, own a bong, or ride a bike, chances are this year’s most anticipated release for you is Orange Goblin’s A Eulogy for the Damned. And why not? The band released its first six albums in ten years, and its now been damn near five years since 2007′s Healing Through Fire, so chances are you’ve got one hell of an itch to take to the starry highway to hit up OG’s cosmic dope show once again. But where the UK quartet was once raw and bloozy it is now cooked and mean, and the smoky caravan kitsch it once proudly boasted in its space-brewed riffs has given way to a prouder, louder form. In fact, aside from vocalist Ben Ward’s chain-link preaching, the Southern boogie doom of “Save Me From Myself” or the bold groove of “Return to Mars,” there’s very little left in the way of OG’s former scuzzy self, and what stands before you today is a tyrant fifteen stories tall, an angry world-eater with a heavy metal law to lay the fuck down. And this is a metal album in many ways thanks to songs like “Red Tide Rising,” “Acid Trial,” “The Fog,” “Death of Aquarius,” and “Bishop’s Wolf,” which is not something you could have really said about any past OG album. It is also very much a statement album, the aforementioned songs leaving the deepest cut, but even OG’s familiar stoner rock fare, like the melodic “Stand For Something” and “The Filthy and the Few” contain a demented edge to ‘em, and the acoustic-psych intro on closer “A Eulogy To The Damned” points to OG’s dark, force-fueled approach to making this record. If you’ve ever hoped that Orange Goblin would one day step up and make a power move, that they’d drop all that whiskey-soaked astro-noodling and put some steel and muscle into their tunes, A Eulogy for the Damned is your hope come true.
It helps to think of Three Wolf Moon as something like an old Native legend and not, as you might be immediately tempted to do, an homage to Three Dog Night or the ironic, cult-folk t-shirt design (which I’m afraid it is). That way, when you drink in its hazy, star-filled, electric splendor, you can stare at the sky for hours with nothing but an affinity for wandering spirits in your mind. Indeed, W is a three-song brain-tickler, a delicate odyssey of garage-psych obsessed with alphabetical stress, and its trio of doubled-yous (“Water/Wine,” “Wetbrain,” “The Worst”) are indelible gifts of indie-freak you won’t soon forget. You know, there’s no reason this Canadian band, which features members of Black Wizard, If We Are Machines, and The Best Revenge, can’t run with the likes of Black Mountain and Weird Owl to whatever cosmic finish line awaits ‘em. And I’ll be on the sidelines doing my part by handing out the Kool-Aid when they pass by…and wearing that t-shirt, no doubt.
Listen to W (and download it for free) right here!
In the spirit of brevity — or laziness, if you prefer — I’m going to go back to something I wrote awhile ago and give it a face-lift for the sake of this review (if you want to read the original version of this passage, go here):
You know, as far as I’m concerned, if you sound exactly like Black Sabbath you are doing something right, so keep on with yo’ nocturnal self, ’cause Black Sabbath are the pinnacle of doom and metal. Stealing their crooked staff for your midnight stroll through the graveyard of evil is hardly a crime. In fact, it’s a noble thing to do. The truth of the matter is, any band worth their salt will have elements of The Stooges, Thin Lizzy, Black Sabbath, or AC/DC in their music.
Right, so on their debut full-length, Capricorn, San Francisco’s Orchid present us with an album full o’ witchy-riffed psych-blues that, had it been recorded in 1969, would be the subject of the first chapter of all tomes concerning the history of heavy metal. I mean, not only does the music sound like Iommi shit it out himself from atop a moss-covered tower, but the song titles read like a stoned Sabbath freak got a hold of some fridge magnet poetry at a party; dig “Eyes Behind the Wall,” “Black Funeral,” “Masters of it All,” “Cosmonaut of Three,” and “Electric Father” for the most obvious examples. Their 2009 EP, Through the Devil’s Doorway, made a lot of hay, but Capricorn has blown the gates of the void wide open, and is a swirling tempest of dark mastery and cosmic wizardry in spite of the familiar force of its headwinds. Or perhaps because of it.
Check out the video for “Cosmonaut of Three” from Capricorn!
Orange Goblin
Three Wolf Moon
Orchid