Black Spiders
Sons of the North
Dark Riders

It’s hard to imagine that the Tokyo Dragons, in their brief, two-album career, could have influenced anybody, but here come fellow UK’ers Black Spiders, swingin’ their hot nuts and givin’ me the fear like the Dragons used to do. Of course, it might make more sense to compare the Spiders’ explosive, hi-top arena rock to bands like KISS, AC/DC, and Motörhead (all of whom the band have referenced in their music by way of lyrics or cover songs), and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out there’s a Soundgarden, Circus of Power, and Four Horsemen freak in their ranks too, but you know what I’m getting at here: this is music for keg parties, biker rallies, or any event where a hot tub and cocaine are present. Sons of the North is the band’s first full-length after a steady diet of EPs for the last two plus years (The St. Peter EP, Cinco Hombres [Diez Cojones], and No Goats in the Omen) and thumps its chest so loud and proud it bruises the heart deep inside. Old fans of the band will notice some familiar bite in the previously released songs “Stay Down,” “Just Like a Woman,” and “St. Peter”, but the way the album seamlessly weaves eye-lined sleaze rock excitement (“KISS Tried to Kill Me,” “Easy Peasy,” “What Good’s a Rock Without a Roll?”) with bearded stoner rock bullying (“Blood of the Kings,” “Man’s Ruin,” “Si, El Diablo”) is a mouthful of deliciously bloody meat you’ll want to feast on for a long time to come. Pull this one out at the next hot tub biker keg party rally you attend and you’ll find yourself fighting and fucking the night away, guaranteed.

Check out the video for “Just Like a Woman” from Sons of the North (even though this video was shot when they released the song on No Goats in the Omen)!

Bradley Cooper’s been a busy man the last few years. His profile is getting somewhat larger thanks to roles in such movies as New York, I Love You, He’s Just Not That Into You, All About Steve, Valentine’s Day, The A-Team, and everyone’s favourite boozy farce, The Hangover. However, just mere seconds before becoming one of those ‘it’ people housewives love so much, he starred in 2008′s The Midnight Meat Train, which, as you can already imagine, isn’t exactly a romantic comedy. In fact, The Midnight Meat Train is another Clive Barker adaptation taken from his collection of short stories, Books of Blood: Volume I. The film also stars British mute and all-around tough guy, Vinnie Jones, who, true to form, only says one word the entire movie. Anyway, The Midnight Meat Train is a lot better than Dread, another Barker adaptation we recently looked at, a wicked splatter flick that offers over-the-top scenes of gruesome violence and enough computer generated blood to fill an entire subway car. Which is exactly what happens, actually.

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“Merlin wasn’t real.”
“Fuck you Merlin wasn’t real.”
“It’s a story.”
“Merlin was part of King Henry’s court and he fucking won all the wars for him ’cause he cast spells. Fuck you, man. That shit’s real.”
“He was part of King Arthur, not King Henry…”
“Yeah, it’s a fable. A fable is history.”

Ah, FUBAR. Amazing. But you know something? Deaner got it absolutely right. A fable is history. The divide between truth and fiction has long since vanished and wizards walk — or, rather, rock — amongst us. I know. So what you’re about to read, everything I’m about to tell you of the outlaw Gideon Smith and his court of motorcycle madmen, The Dixie Damned, may sound like pure cowboy fantasy, a Southern-fried fairy tale full of tumbleweed, rattlers, whiskey, blood, dust, ghosts, and backwoods psychedelia, but it’s simply this: the narcotic we desire most.

Gideon, the Charlotte, North Carolina native, began life as a wizard when he apprenticed at the faithful and frenzied school of Destructo Maximus as a roadie while under the bloody-faced tutelage of Jeff Clayton and his band of wrestlin’ lovin’ murder junkies, ANTiSEEN. The years he spent in that chaotic foxhole, surrounded by barb wire and explosives, arm in arm with the Confederacy of Scum, would spark in him a desire to branch out on his own. So, in 1997, Gideon took that giant leap into outlaw territory with some former Animal Bag members, now dubbed The Dixie Damned.

Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned spin a swampy brand of blues-infused doom rock, a heavy dose of Southern boogie n’ groove with a hairy chest and meat cleavers for hands. They mix the super-sized spirituality of The Cult with the chain gang riffs of Circus of Power and end up with a shamanistic brand of trippy, bad-ass, redneck biker rock. Gideon’s vocals might be some of the most recognizable in all of rock n’ roll, rolling out of his diaphragm like they’re coming up from the bottom of a well, where Elvis’ bloated carcass floats face down in bong water. The band released a self-titled EP some time after forming, but it wasn’t until 2004′s full-length, Southern Gentlemen, that word came down that there was a new wizard in town.

But, like a wizard is wont to do, Gideon vanished for a few years, appearing only on various tribute albums and compilations. He spent his years in exile dealing with death and cultivating is outlaw way of life, recording some spoken word/poetry stuff on such themes as paganism, the occult, the power of positive thinking, beauty, creativity, and strength, and writing his manifesto, Way of the Outlaw Spirit. Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned returned to the fold with a six-song EP, Dealin’ Decks, and their second full-length in 2008, South Side of the Moon.

So, what’s Gideon up to now? How goes it in the world of this particular wizard, this rock n’ roll outlaw? What bearded mischief has he been up to? Well, I take council with the man himself, my brother in both wizardry and beard, and we discuss such epic matters as his new album, what it means to be an outlaw, what it means to be a wizard (and how we can’t actually discuss anything to do with wizardry because it’s all top secret), and, of course, beards. There’s even an uncomfortable moment when I mention something about a girl and some chains. This is the stuff you crave, my friend. This is the fable of truth.

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