Danzig (1988)

8.5

Twist of Cain / Not of This World / She Rides / Soul on Fire / Am I Demon / Mother / Possession / End of Time / The Hunter / Evil Thing

Everybody good boy deserves a guilty pleasure once in a while, and one of mine is Danzig. Basically a vehicle for Glenn Danzig’s coal black musings, the band was the culmination of interests that have been cultivated since the late ‘70’s, when Glanzig co-founded shock-horror band The Misfits. While other hardcore vocalists tried to outdo each other with their venomous rants and ‘puke my guts out’-vocals, Danzig’s retro-croon had always been something special. Sounding like the bastard child of Elvis (slick mode), Jim Morrison (theatrical) and Fonzy (making Glenn the FONZIG of rock ‘n’ roll!), his peculiar yelps have always made him one of the most recognizable howlers out there. Barrel-chested, sporting a few creepy tattoos and, coolest of all, gigantic side-burns, Danzig became a sort of intimidating icon, a larger-than-life-character residing in self-constructed, demonic mythology. While The Misfits’ campy punk more than once flirted with offensive and obscure material, Samhain’s substantially more sombre approach and imagery was a lot darker. With Danzig, the circle is finally full: everything about the band was black: album art, clothing, lyrics and vision. Because of his infatuation with demons, the dark side, pending doom and references to an anti-God, the ultimate seduction of evil, etc, Glenn Danzig soon became an another agent of Satan, a perverted Satanist, but that’s hardly true. Seriously.

Granted, nearly all the songs on this debut (and subsequent albums) would deal with this sinister matter, but whereas new generations of death metal bands employed it all in the context of inhuman torture, mass destruction, graphically described horror, and black rituals, Danzig offers a much subtler depiction of the Evil One and the dark side. Like several critics observed before, his perspective was nearly a gothic one, bursting with black romantic themes (loneliness, fallen angels, soul cleansings, etc), while his merger of blues-based hard rock and dark imagery comes across as an aural version of Anne Rice’s brooding, erotic vampire novels. So, the singer’s hardly an average one and so are the lyrics/imagery. What about the music then? Well, even that part is out of step. Already legendary because of its immensely flat sound, Danzig is probably one of the few albums that make a band sound considerably less heavy than they are in reality. Yet, somehow producer Rick Rubin made the right choice by keeping the sound as simple as possible, with each instrument sounding as clean as a bottle of disinfectant. Whereas Slayer’s Reign in Blood, produced two years earlier by Rubin, was an all-out aural assault, these ten songs are as dry as a mouthful of desert sand, with the guitars actually sounding like guitars (instead of lawn mowers or industrial drills), Eerie Von’s bass forming a suitable foundation, nothing more and nothing less, and Chuck Biscuits’ extraordinary drumming allowing for surgical analysis. A common perception has it that all these songs sound samey, and yes, they do sound similar, because of the band’s eternal mid-tempo plodding (ideally suited for some old-fashioned headbanging), chomping neo-AC/DC-riffs and Danzig’s peculiar singing style, but the songs are so GODDARN CRUNCHY and CRISPY, oozing out that irresistible combination of sleazy seduction and menace. While some riffs reappear in slightly altered variations (“Not of This World” and “Soul on Fire,” for instance), they are easy distinguishable for the most part. “Twist of Cain” immediately announces itself as Danzig’s signature song, a blueprint for an entirely new brand of hard rock (if you like to work out – try this mutha), whereas others – like “Am I Demon” and “The Hunter” border on the hypnotic, as they’re carried by the same rudimentary, pre-historic riffs.

The most recognizable mischievous sprite, however, a song that became an unexpected hit a few years after this album was released, is the anthemic “Mother,” possibly the most accessible the band ever got. Of course, the recurring, lupine “Motheeeeuuuurrr” has become something of an easy target to ridicule, but I just can’t dislike the song: it rawks, builds up in an exciting way and boasts a melody you can’t ignore. Of course, some songs suffer a bit from the stylistic limitedness, like “She Rides,” which goes on for too long, and the awkward “Possession” that starts off in Exorcist-style with backward-played sounds, but has a rather annoying chorus, however … 8 out of 10 songs that are at least damn fine is something most bands can only dream of. Saving the best for last … my favorite is probably “End of Time,” one of the album’s quieter songs, but also one that has it all: a rough ‘my motorcycle looks better than yours’-riff, quiet sections that are actually endearing (triangle alert!) and a double-tracked, semi-spastic solo by John Christ that’s the album’s spirit chaser. It’s true that Danzig constantly seems to tread the thin line between the real deal and a self-parody, but that’s exactly what makes it that intriguing: without trying to become the darkest, most extreme band on earth and focusing primarily on the possessed core, Glenn & the boys wound up in the major league and became worthy successors of the original, Sabbath-esque doom.

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Fonzig in action, sometime in the late '80s

Danzig II:Lucifuge (1990)

7.5

Long Way Back from Hell / Snakes of Christ / Killer Wolf / Tired of Being Alive / I’m the One / Her Black Wings / Devil’s Plaything / 777 / Blood and Tears / Girl / Pain in the World

Whereas the band’s debut suggested the quartet was only capable of churning out chugging mid-tempo hard rock, Danzig II: Lucifuge displays a broadening of their sound and textures. While those who preferred the uncomplicated, southern-tinged macho rock of yore needn’t worry just yet – Danzig still sounded unlike any other band at the late ‘80’s/early ‘90s – the band seems to have made an effort to deliver more diversity in moods, with bluesier material and acoustic guitars thrown in, but this only becomes clear from the third song onwards. Before that, you’ll have to deal with the swift & venomous “Long Way Back from Hell,” that proves that the voice of the He-Man of the metal world was still very much intact (he does not only have a recognizable voice, but for a while he was arguable one of the genre’s best vocalists), the energy level certainly not diminished (it’s probably one of their fastest ones – even though it’s quite slow for a hard rock band), and the sound slightly ‘fuller’. One of the eternal scapegoats on the album, “Snakes of Christ,” is up next. “Scapegoat” because it’s basically a re-write of “Twist of Cain,” but hey, why complain when a good band decides to milk out an old, but good idea for a bit longer? Wasn’t that what AC/DC was all about, too?

Anyway, it’s after the opening duo that we get to the first surprise, as “Killer Wolf” nearly strips the bluesy hard rock entirely of its hard rock component. What’s left is a throbbing Billy Gibbons-styled blues-riff with a deliberately slower pace, while Glenn gets to shine during the dramatic chorus. The clearest example of this wider sonic palette, however, is the completely acoustic blues shuffle “I’m the One.” Of course, there’s a reason for that: Glenn knows damn well about the reputation of the Bayou country with its voodoo beliefs, and he certainly knew that the blues is the ultimate devil’s music (Robert “sold my soul to the devil” Johnson, anyone?), and while it’s a bit awkward at first to hear him holler like that over a repetitive riff, he surely gets away with it (in fact, the only thing he doesn’t get away with is that RIDICULOUS album cover – at least the back cover referred to something else than big, hairy chests – see below). And that’s not all: there’s also some nifty acoustic slide playin’ in “777,” and the extended Zeppelin-esque intro to “Devil’s Plaything” (that suddenly returns to debut-styled no nonsense). Despite these exotic trips, Danzig’s main shtick remains intact: “Tired of Being Alive” returns to the AC/DC-meets-Judas-Priest-style of the debut, while the misogynist “Girl” (which might describe your attitude, depending on your views on relations with its recurring “I’m gonna take you hard, gonna take you harder”) might offend the decent Christian that’s buried deep inside of you. Accessible single this time around is “Her Black Wings,” probably one of the band’s signature songs, and while I’m not fond of the that type of communal chanting during the chorus (“WHHHHHOOOOOHOOOOOO, UNDER HER BLACK WI-HINGS”), the song has a few hooks that stick with you like a tube of glue. Paying tribute to the founders of the genre, the album closer “Pain in the World” starts off with Iommi-styled devil’s music (like in “Black Sabbath”), and basically continues the ‘we’ll keep on grinding away until we die’-approach. Finally, to make myself look like a complete ass, I’m willing to share with you that I actually think the BALLAD “Blood and Tears” is PRETTY. I know, it’s quite hilarious to witness a chest-thumping, barrel of steroids singing a “love” song, but he does it with so much conviction and a very impressive vocal range (that “You cry a thousand tears, daaaaaarling don’t despaaaaiiir”-part is just GREAT!) that’s certainly a relief after having listened to, say, Motörhead’s Overkill. While Lucifuge lacks the homogenous (that’s “boring” if you didn’t like it the first time around) unity of the debut, and is slightly less consistent (I never was that fond of “Tired,” “Devil’s Plaything” and “777,” for instance), the excursions into the blues are quite successful for the most part.

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Danzig III:How the Gods Kill (1992)

8

Godless / Anything / Bodies / How the Gods Kill / Dirty Black Summer / Left Hand Black / Heart of the Devil / Sistinas / Do You Wear the Mark / When the Dying Calls

Boasting an appropriately ominous cover by Swiss sci-fi/horror/fantasy-artist H.R. Giger (who also designed the cover of ELP’s Brain Salad Surgery and the infamous Penis Landscape-poster that accompanied the Dead Kennedys’ Frankenchrist), How the Gods Kill still stands as Danzig’s darkest, heaviest (up to that point), but also most ambitious (“pretentious” for those who think he’s laughable) and, uh, subtle album. Exploring territory outside the standard confines of hard rock and metal, the album disbands most traditional notions that were lived up to before, while still rocking with as much venom and threatening power as before. The big difference is that this album – produced by Mr. Danzig himself – fully embraces the Southern Gothic sensibilities and skewed romanticism that were already present – but usually diluted – on the first two albums. Apart from a few examples, I’d say How the Gods Kill is less occupied with sounding evil and (mock) Satanic, making a trip through internal horror instead. As a religion fanatic, Danzig has infused these songs with a few eternal themes (spiritual doubt, the existence of a God in a world full of death, “evil” temptations, etc), while trying to lay down an atmosphere of doom and apocalypse: the slow, brooding parts of opener “Godless” for instance, play by their own set of rules. Howling like an outraged priest announcing the end of days, the vocalist treads risky ground, fearlessly embraces theatricality and ends up having found a new way of expressing his macabre infatuations.

Other tracks that, like “Godless,” would never have appeared on Lucifuge, are the lengthy title track and the ballad “Sistinas.” The first one has some of his most delicate vocals yet during a lengthy intro that sets the tone for the sudden transformation into neo-Sabbath doom, and even adds keyboards (stressing the Gothic direction even more). The ballad is certainly something different, entirely driven by a recurring guitar pattern, thin synth sounds and a suitably introvert performance by the vocalist. I used to be fond of this weird slice of Twin Peaks-drama, but nowadays the song’s unreal atmosphere is about the only thing about it that sticks with me … I’d rather have “Blood and Tears.” Despite the fact that How the Gods Kill treads some unfamiliar ground and possibly emerges as Danzig’s most exploratory project (unless you prefer Black Aria, the short, instrumental mini-opera the guy composed shortly after this album), there’s also some familiar crunch available. In the guise of “Anything,” for instance: also sporting an extended ‘slowly = creepy’-introduction, it soon settles in another mastodon mid-tempo groove the band was so good at during the previous few years. Even better than “Anything” is the raunchy “’Left Hand Black,” a demonic metal beast that’s taken to thrash heights with one of the band’s most powerful grooves yet, and when that ultra-tight chorus comes along (man, Biscuits sure could keep a nasty beat), you’ll want to holler along to that “GONNA BRING YOU GOOOOOOODDD!” Sometimes, the lyrics are just a bit too cartoonish to be taken seriously, like in “Heart of the Devil” (“I can make a young girl lay down for me, because I’m evil” – come again, Glenn?), but luckily the music sounds so, well, GODDAMN EVIL that all your crosses will spontaneously hang upside-down! OK, if you’ve never been a sucker for the band’s update of the devil’s music, you won’t be converted by How the Gods Kill either, but the oft-heard comment that this is the definitive statement by the band makes sense: it rocks with a vengeance (and sometimes, like during “Do You Wear the Mark,” the band sounds louder than ever before), has some great vocals and perhaps captures Danzig’s combination of Black Romanticism and menacing pseudo-Satanism most successfully. Like the previous albums, it also has its weaker moments (the bluesy “Bodies” is unremarkable and single (!) “Dirty Black Summer” contains the album’s only stale riff), but the fact that most of the experiments belong among the most impressive things Danzig’s come up with, should be convincing enough to have you check some of it out.

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Thrall-Demonsweatlive (1993)

6.5

It’s Coming Down / The Violet Fire / Trouble / Snakes of Christ (Live) / Am I Demon (Live)/ Sistinas (Live)/ Mother (Live)

Not essential in any way, but the release that propelled Danzig to stardom (it went platinum on the strength of the re-released “Mother” and accompanying video clip), Thrall-Demonsweatlive is the kind of stuff only hardcore fans and collector’s need to check out. It contains three songs that – like How the Gods Kill suggested – confirm the band was evolving in a more metal-oriented direction. Opener “It’s Coming Down” has breakdowns that have more in common with Helmet’s start-&-stop-dynamics than with Danzig’s own groove-based hard rock, but it works just fine here. More interesting are the two next tracks: “The Violet Fire” is the kind of gloomy Goth-metal that’ll make the faint of heart shudder, with ill-omened vocals and a hypnotic crawl that just goes on and on. It’s certainly not a contender for “Danzig composition of the decade,” but it’s certainly not an indication of a writer’s block either. The third and most remarkable studio track is a cover of Leiber & Stoller’s “Trouble,” once covered by Elvis. While the bratty lyrics (“If you’re looking for trouble, you came to the right place”) are already a nice fit for Glenn (as they were for Bon Scott), the fact that it’s this song is proof of the fact the angry man had a sense of humor after all, considering his reputation as the “Evil Elvis”.

On with the live stuff: recorded at Halloween night of 1992, during the How the Gods Kill-Tour, it offers a measly four tracks, three from the band’s terrific debut, and one from their most recent release. All of these songs are performed in an effective, no bullshit-manner, with strong performances from Christ, Von and Biscuits, but whereas Glenn had been a terrific vocalist in the studio, his performance on stage is quite disappointing. While his menacing growl is still intact during “Snakes of Christ,” his hoarse shouting hurt my ears during “Am I Demon” and the audience’s favorite, “Mother.” During the latter, the call & response game between Danzig and the hundreds (thousands?) of people attending the show is pretty exciting, but boy, how I prefer to hear the chest-thumping über-Glenn who sang the studio version. Because of its status as the most restrained song in the entire Danzig-catalogue, “Sistinas” works pretty well on the other hand, even though it’s not an improvement over the studio version. The copy of Thrall I’m holding in my hands also adds a studio version of “Mother” as a hidden track (# 93), but if you dig that song, just by the eponymous debut instead.

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4p (1994)

8.5

Brand New God / Little Whip / Cantspeak / Going Down to Die / Until You Call on the Dark / Dominion / Bringer of Death / Sadistikal / Son of the Morning Star / I Don’t Mind the Pain / Stalker Song / Let It Be Captured // Invocation

This will be the 262nd album review on my website. This one has been the hardest review to write so far, since I’ve already deleted several half-finished drafts and I’m still not sure what to think of it, even after an average of 4-5 listens a day for the past week or so. Disowned by lots of their fans who considered it “too mellow” or a deliberate attempt to break into the mainstream, 4p (and not just ‘4’, how it’s commonly referred to – allegedly, “Four P” is/was a Satanic cult) might indeed sound quite accessible, but in my opinion, it might also be more of an innovation than How the Gods Kill. Whereas the latter proved to be the long-awaited surrender to goth-metal, 4p’s “silent” innovation is more subtle. For the first time, there’s been some serious studio experimentation with sounds and textures, as vocals are repeatedly distorted, samples used, and fragments (or an entire song!) played backwards. On top of that, Glenn Danzig’s vocals display even more diversity, replacing the traditional howling with actual singing that makes his voice nearly unrecognizable a few times, while the rest of the band also contributes elements you’d never find on any of the first three albums.

A downside of this explorative direction is the fact that the album’s not as instantly catchy, and that there’s the obligatory art song (basically a five-minute dirge that embodies “superfluity”), but overall, this might be the most rewarding Danzig album, and I realized that only this week. Now, don’t get me wrong, don’t deduce from that meagre introduction that 4p is a sort of black lounge opera or a modern variation on ‘70’s-styled soft rock: when the band rocks, they rock HARD, but it’s just that there’s just a handful of tracks you might call “straightforward,” and even those are very likely to contain quiet, brooding sections, extended intros and fade-outs and sound manipulation. The most obvious example here is “Cantspeak”: I’m sure that – if I heard it on the radio, I wouldn’t have recognized it as a Danzig song. A hypnotic drone, propelled by Biscuits’ uncomplicated drum patters, Danzig’s distorted vocals and guitar textures that have more in common with My Bloody Valentine (so to speak) than with your average hard rock riffs, “Cantspeak” is a fitting soundtrack to a catatonic’s nightmare that reaches maximum effect by using a backwards played “Let It Be Captured” (the minor, final chapter of the album) as a foundation. Another winner in the un-cool department, is the ballad “Going Down to Die”: like “Blood and Tears” on Lucifuge, this track really defines power ballad: while lacking the relentless attack of the band’s testosterone-driven work-out anthems, the band’s tight playing and Glenn’s heartfelt vocals elevate this into something so much bigger than what you’d expect on paper. Whereas the average hard rock ballad isn’t likely to excite me, this guy has learned how to streamline his bombastic, theatrical tendencies into a credible mould, and this time around, even the lyrics seems genuinely passionate, regardless of how simple they may be. Even better, however, are tracks like “Dominion,” and – especially – “I Don’t Mind the Pain,” two similar-sounding songs that turn quietness into an advantage. “I Don’t Mind the Pain” has also got the most sinister vocal melody they ever came up with, while those machine gun-styled drum salvos and prominent piano accents still manage to impress me.

While the above surely sounds cutesy, I need to point out that before you reach these cuts, you’ll have already received a generous beating by the album’s opening duet of “Brand New God,” and “Little Whip,” a killer duo like there’s ever been one. Especially the opening track is a manic, near-militaristic assault on the senses: while it also has it quieter moments, the combination of a tight drum punishment, distorted bass and hulking guitar chords is guaranteed to set the place on fire. Following a 90-second introduction, “Little Whip” is another malevolent rocker, with – again - exciting drum salvos that fit the song’s preoccupation with sexual power games quite well. It’s from this point onwards, that we’d see Danzig flirting more and more with S&M-imagery (both lyrically and in the next albums’ artwork), which is unsurprising, given his involvement in Verotik, a publishing company specialised in violent, erotic comic books (supposedly with a very strong reputation in the comics world). Anyway, on top of these there’s also the excellent “Bringer of Death,” a convincing rock monster with some great guitar torture by John Christ, a sitar solo (?) and piano parts courtesy of the bulky bellower himself. Although the opening track and “Bringer of Death” could be considered essential in the band’s catalogues, I’d argue that on 4p, the band’s even better at the less direct/obvious/mellow stuff. By consequence, the only possible “misfires” I can come up with are the fairly conventional rockers “Until You Call on the Dark” (it reminds me of a Black Mass performed by boy scouts) and the pummelling “Son of the Morning Star” (with Danzig’s vocal melody eerily resembling the one of “Black Sabbath”), with the sound piece “Sadistikal” residing in a category of its own. 4p won’t convince you if you’re not able to get past the band’s image and the singer’s obsession with the dark side in the first place, but it’s undeniable that deep inside it, there lurks a deceitful monster that, despite the more subtle approach, is harder rocking (“Brand New God,” “Bringer of Death”), scarier (the intense “Stalker Song” – despite the recurring line “I’m coming in your hole” that I just can’t make sense of), strangely beautiful (“Going Down to Die,” “Let It Be Captured”) and perversely seductive (“Dominion,” “I Don’t’ Mind the Pain”) than anything they did before. While I’d still turn to the uncomplicated debut for instant gratification, 4p is the one to keep me company during the darkest hours.

Note: The album contains a hidden track (#66), basically nothing more than a church organ and multi-tracked chanting that’s presumably sung backwards, and played normally. Anyway, the only cool/ridiculous/silly/smart thing about it is that the display of your CD-player will show something like: 66 64:41. GET IT?

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Blackacidevil (1996)

3

7th House / Blackacidevil / See All You Were / Sacrifice / Hint of Her Blood / Serpentia / Come to Silver / Hand of Doom: Version / Power of Darkness / Ashes

JESUS WHAT A DISAPPOINTMENT! Get this: in the aftermath of 4p, Chuck Biscuits was sacked (because of a drug problem), but apparently there also were some unsolvable tensions between Mr. Danzig – who wanted to evolve in a hi-tech, industrial-based direction already hinted at during 4p (the machine-like textures of “Cantspeak” and the mechanical “Sadistikal”) – on the one hand, and Christ and Von on the other hand, who wanted to continue in the retro-hard rock vein. Being the uncomplicated guy that he is, Glenn basically told them to get the fuck out and found a few new collaborators in drummer Joey Castillo (ex-Wasted Youth), Joe Bishara (programming, keyboards) and Josh Lazie (bass). However, Blackacidevil is very much a solo album, as Chief Danzig handles bass, guitars, keyboards and vocals, with Alice in Chains’ Jerry Cantrell helping out on a few tracks. And the results, my friends, are for the most part atrocious. It’s not that I don’t like the guy to give his career another direction – the fact that it must have taken balls to release a decidedly “difficult” album like this is undisputable – but please, is it so hard to keep the ingredients that were always pointed out as highlights (hooks, menace and – more than anything else – those theatrical, but impressive vocals) intact?

Because that’s exactly what this album’s lacking: the trademark Danzig vocals. OK, I’m willing to admit that he needn’t tread on familiar ground all the time, but on most of these tracks, the vocals are horribly distorted/treated/manipulated so that you’re left with some undecipherable rants and yelling that’s supposed to be cool I guess. But to my ears, Blackacidevil is a repulsive, yes, even UGLY album. Basically situating itself firmly in the industrial rock/metal tradition, it’s expected to feature abrasive noise, martial drumming, tribal rhythms and a lunatic’s distorted vocals on top of it, but most of these tracks sound so goddamn one-dimensional and uninspired it’s painful. With some variation in textures, several of these songs might’ve been saved, but now these tracks barely leave an impression. Sometimes (“Power of Darkness”), the sonic pleasure is destroyed so successfully that the band comes awfully close to the over the top-histrionics of, say, the Butthole Surfers’ “U.S.S.A.,” but whereas the vulgar Texans could make an album like Locust Abortion Technician sound alternately creepy, hilarious and perverse, Blackacidevil doesn’t manage to escape the confines of sheer aural terror all that often: “7th House” is a fairly brutal industrial-metal opener with Danzig’s silliest lyrics since he left the Misfits (“Girl I’m gonna make you come, free your body with my gun” – although you really need the liner notes to make out what he’s actually yelling), “Sacrifice” a failed attempt to recreate the dance-oriented industrial of obvious comparison Nine Inch Nails, “Hint of Her Blood” a 300-second drag that tries to survive in its own gooey, aural mud; while his over-fuzzed, self-indulgent take on Black Sabbath’s “Hand of Doom” robs the song entirely of its doom. “Hand of Dork” would’ve been more adequate. And I don’t even want to touch upon the irritating “Serpentia” or the bludgeoning title track, during which his vocals are barely discernible among Castillo’s frantic drumming and the sonic palette that’s shoved down your throat. However, there are a few instances that can accomplish partly redemption for the album: limited salvation comes in the guise of “Come to Silver,” where the distortion is toned down and Cantrell’s jammin’ fretwork becomes one of the album’s few highlights, and album closer “Ashes” is a passable ballad of which I’m actually sure that Danzig sings it. I’m still not persuaded about why he had to dress the song up with the sound of a strong wind, but hey, that’s nitpicking when you imagine what else he could have done to it. Maybe it’s because I’m not much of an industrial fan to start with, maybe it’s because my unconsciousness hates to witness the disappearance of familiarity, maybe it’s just because I’m not smart enough to tackle this kind of music … I just can’t deal with this. I can imagine some NIN-, Godflesh- or Ministry-fans getting cracked up by this, but to me, this is about pain. Especially the pain of time creeping by so slowly and of being familiar with an alternative that’s so much better.

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6:66 Satan’s Child (1999)

6

Five Finger Crawl / Belly of the Beast / Lilin / Unspeakable / Cult without a Name / East Indian Devil (Kali’s Song) / Firemass / Cold Eternal / Satan’s Child / Into the Mouth of Abandonment / Apokalips / 13

Sigh. The first time I heard Satan’s Child, I thought it was an overproduced, overwrought slab of wagon-jumping nu/neo-industrial/whatever-metal. After that, it just left me indifferent. Since 4p clicked in such a way, I started doubting my own judgement again, so I tied myself to a chair, stuffed a gag in my mouth, pushed the REPEAT-button, and lived through five consequent listens of Danzig’s sixth full-length. In a joking way, I thought of giving it the suitable 6.66, but … it doesn’t deserve that. It’s simply not good enough, and it ain’t evil enough either. What the 6 does imply, is that it’s twice as enjoyable as the annoying previous album, but for the most part, listening to 6:66 ain’t my idea of fun either. It starts off quite promising though: opener “Five Finger Crawl” (and not “Belly of the Beast,” as the back cover mentions) introduces a new, fashionable sound we hadn’t heard before. Whereas Blackacidevil was nearly unbearable with all the insane feedback/distortion/electro noise, the band here sounds as if these guys have been touring/sleeping/recording with Korn or Sepultura. It’s not abrasive industrial anymore (what a relief), and the raps and excessive samples of most nu-metal albums are also absent, but there’s this shiny ultra-crunch to the guitar sound, a metallic sound to the funky drum beats and fat, buzzing bass that just yells “Los Angeles,” “MTV,” “16 year-olds” and “5 million copies.” It didn’t become a hit, though. Maybe it’s because our Glenn’s steadily approaching his fiftieth birthday.

Anyway, “Five Finger Crawl” introduces some heavy galloping guitar parts that are easily some of the most monolithic he’s ever used. Instead of the blues-oriented riffs of the classic line-up, the band now churns out repetitive thrash riffs that may have sonic punch, but lack that extra dimension that made them so special to begin with. I also wonder what happened to Glenn’s voice: while it used to be an instrument in itself, a commanding tenor that spoke from the unknown darkness, he sounds like he’s been a month-long drinking binge on this one: hoarse, old and tired, like Henry Rollins on Come in and Burn. “Belly of the Beast,” a slow, stuttering doom beast is pretty impressive, as the band succeeds in combining bludgeoning rhythms and riffs with a killer chorus that very few like-minded bands could come up with. I just wish someone would get rid of those annoying bleeps and sirens that pop up once in a while. While “Unspeakable” sounds quite similar to the industrial thrash that Sepultura delivered with Roots (even though Danzig never growled like Cavalera did), the band’s most brutal track is undeniably “Cult without a Name.” There’s this acoustic introduction of a minute or so that already sets the tone, but boy, when those guitars kick in after 58 seconds, even the cat’s bangin’ his head here in Brussels, and those DA-DA-DA-accents are simply “YEAH”! It’s just too bad that Danzig never gave the proper credit to the right person. Before they started recording, dozens interviews appeared on the net in which Danzig confirmed Jeff Chambers had become the fourth full member, but when the album was finished, the chief sacked him and only gave him credit as just another guest musician, even though he appeared on each track and is twice the guitarist Glenn is. A bit of a prick, our Duke of Darkness. On top of that, the remainder of the album’s just too monotonous and unimaginative to capture your attention. “Lilin” and “Apokalips” are decent chunks of doom, if you get past the tired lyrics (“She’s got the soul of the darkest star, I wanna touch all her glowin’ parts…”) and clichéd renderings. Some of the songs still wallow in an electro-oriented atmosphere, but sadly enough the trick just don’t work: if anything, the sleazy “Firemass” only proves that Danzig’s become a fairly average vocalist, whereas “Into the Mouth of Abandonment” makes you wonder when the hell Kelis is gonna make her entrance. So much for scariness-factor, Rocky. The energetic title track is a return to the tighter metal of “Cult without a Name,” but when you reach this song and have been listening closely, one thing’s already sure: his albums may become heavier as he grows older, but Glenn’s lost much of his soul since Blackacidevil. His sixth album sounds great (modern), has some great playing, but the magic is gone. What’s left is a no-risks machine that’s not nearly as intense as the sound suggests, and not even a decent take on his own “Thirteen” – a song already immortalized by Johnny Cash in 1994 – can change that. Somewhere during “Into the Mouth of Abandonment,” our man mutters that “the harder you try to hold something in your arms, the quicker it dies” and maybe that’s what he should’ve done: not try so hard.

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Live on the Black Hand Side (2001)

5.5 (7+4)

Godless / Left Hand Black / How the Gods Kill / Dirty Black Summer / Pain in the World / Evil Thing / Halloween II / Not of This World / Killer Wolf / Little Whip / Going Down to Die / Bringer of Death / Stalker Song / Long Way Back from Hell / Satan’s Child / 7th House / 5 Finger Crawl / Unspeakable / Lilin / Her Black Wings / It’s Coming Down / Do You Wear the Mark / Until You Call on the Dark / Deep / Belly of the Beast / She Rides / Twist of Cain / Mother

I’m pissed off and my 200W-speakers have filed a complaint against me. The Thrall-Demonsweatlive EP already contained a few live tracks, but Live on the Black Hand Side is the first full-length live document by the band. In fact it’s a double-CD, containing performances by three line-ups, so this should have the potential to trace Mr. Danzig’s career. The first eight songs on the first disc are taken from the same gig (Halloween, 1992) as the tracks that wound up on Thrall, and they were performed by the classic line-up of Danzig-Christ-Von-Biscuits. While the sound could’ve been much better for a band this size, it’s average and gets you a sneak peek at what a good band they were. I’d say the more experimental tracks (“Godless,” “How the Gods Kill”) don’t work that well, since their intricate atmosphere is much harder to create on stage in front of an audience that just won’t shut up. Straightforward tracks like “Not of This World,” “Dirty Black Summer” or the Sabbath-tribute “Pain in the World” work quite well, despite the fact that Danzig’s vocals are nowhere as expressive as on the studio versions. No one was expecting that to start with, but still it’s kinda disappointing to hear such a devilish warrior battle with respiratory problems.

The last six songs on disc 1 were recorded during the 4p Tour right after Joey Castillo had replaced Biscuits. Although I’d say (and I’m sure many would agree with me) that Biscuits was THE Danzig drummer (forceful, tight and capable of dosing his efforts), the new member does a good job, while the songs chosen from that latest album prove to be very strong, especially the ballad “Going Down to Die” (though I’m still wondering what that “I got work to do” means – it should be FUN, not WORK!!) and the sinister hard rock of “Bringer of Death.” So, our X-man’s performances are slightly disappointing, but the band as a whole definitely rocks, and the songs are convincing. THEN, you’ll try the second disc and … WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? The songs were recorded during the Satan’s Child Tour of 2000, so you’d expect there to be a good (or at least decent) sound with all the recording equipment and techniques that are around, but no, what you get is 14 songs that could’ve been recorded in MY band’s rehearsal shack, with OUR crappy tape recorder. Before I get a seizure, let me just say something positive as well: the band (Todd Youth – guitar; Howie Pyro – bass and Castillo on drums) surely plays with a lot of energy, and some of the songs seem to work better in live surroundings, but let’s not forget that once upon a time, Danzig wasn’t about mindless power and bludgeoning attack. If there’s anything the first line-up was aware of, it must’ve been that they knew they needn’t crank out riffs and rolls like maniacs, and that they could stay loose, let the parts speak for themselves. That’s why 4p worked that well. The sound seems to pick up after a while, but vocals enter and exit the picture randomly, sound too muffled or barely audible at all, the drum set repeatedly sounds like a Fisher Price kit, and the guitars basically sound like the same industrial drill for an hour. Just check out the laughable quality of “Until You Call on the Dark” or “Twist of Cain.” Maybe I would appreciate the band’s dedication more if the sound was OK, but now it’s just baffling this even saw the light of day. PEOPLE ARE SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY PAY FOR THIS, GLENN? YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT! Stuff like this makes me understand why too many people don’t buy albums anymore. Granted, the booklet contains some nice pictures, but to make up for this ridiculous quality, a 150-page book would’ve been more fitting. A short note with the promise to never do it again as well.

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777 I Luciferi (2002)

5

Unendlich / Black Mass / Wicked Pussycat / God of Light / Liberskull / Dead Inside / Kiss the Skull / I Luciferi / Naked Witch / Angel Blake / The Coldest Sun / Halo Goddess Bone / Without Light I am

Pointless. If you say that something is pointless, you are criticizing it because it has no sense or purpose.
Redundant. 1. If you are made redundant, you are dismissed by your employer because your job is no longer necessary or because your employer cannot afford to keep paying you; used in British English. The usual American expression is be laid off. 2. Something that is redundant is no longer needed because its job is being done by something else or because its job is no longer necessary or useful.
Unnecessary. If you describe something as unnecessary, you mean that it is not needed or does not have to be done, and is undesirable.

(from: Collins Cobuild English Dictionary, 1995)

Hell and devil! Satan’s Child already suggested our Glenn perhaps needed another outlet for his increasingly less interesting mix of evilness and cheap S&M-references, and on I Luciferi, we’re witness of his further fall from grace with the Gods of inspiration, relevance and taste. It didn’t start out that disappointing, though: the short instrumental intro (well, there’s some Gregorian chanting in the background) with its singing guitars, sets the tone quite successfully (Rosemary’s Baby for the 21th century!) and even “Black Mass” is quite good. At least, I am a sucker for those creepy, sleazy vocals and that thundering rhythm that’s perfect to throw your fists into the air and smash your head against the wall. Though it still sounds remotely like the modern metal of the previous album, it’s decidedly more retro, even though the line-up of Todd Youth (guitar), Howie Pyro (bass) and Joey C. (already a member for longer than Biscuits) never takes the plunge into the rudimentary, bluesy hard rock of the first two or three albums. A few songs have that doom-laden atmosphere that once made his albums so enchanting (certainly if you breed bats), but the difference is that they now all come off as attempts, and rarely convince. Elsewhere, the band tries to live up to Glenn’s promise that each of his albums continues to be louder than its predecessor (not really the case, but OK, we’re not gonna nag about that). This works pretty well in the funny Marilyn Manson rip-off “Kiss the Skull” (the perfect marching song for the 79th regiment from hell) and the adequate “Liberskull,” which somehow succeeds in reconciling demonic threat with an oversized Linkin Park-styled chorus. And it’s not even bad! Shoot!

From that point onwards, you’ll have a hard time tracking down stuff that won’t upset your internal bullshit detector: the Sabbath-esque “Angel Blake” is quite good, certainly when that flute (is this real?) kicks in, but when you decide to check out the lyrics and are confronted with primary school material like “Angel Blake lived by the lake, threw her in and she floated like a snake,” well, um, the fun is over, you know. The only thing left to do next is trying to decide which tracks are just not up to his former standard, and which make fun of it. My take: “Dead Inside” starts quite promising (another of his swell ballads?), but soon employs riffs that were already recycled to death a decade ago; the title track, with its detuned guitars and tuneless melodies practically defines “mediocre,” and “The Coldest Sun” is a pretty lame imitation of Type O-Negative’s neo-gothic metal. Indeed, an imitation of an imitation of himself (granted, Type O- isn’t just a second rate Danzig, but I bet you won’t deny they probably have How the Gods Kill standing in the CD-rack). Then, there’s the stuff that shouldn’t even have been on the album. Admittedly, a deep, rumbling bass can sound cool, but “Wicked Pussycat,” a boring ode to S&M culture definitely isn’t, while “God of Light,” with its ridiculous nu-metal breaks and guitar squeaks deserves to end up in the sales bins. “Naked Witch” and “Halo Goddess Bone” are equally lousy and uninspired. It’s really frustrating that a guy like Fonzig, who has talent to spare (admit it, the guy wrote all the Danzig songs, including the good ones), slips further and further into a morass of mediocrity. If he ever visits Belgium again, I still would check him out, but I’ve almost reached the point where I couldn’t give a shit anymore about his new releases. I doubt he’ll ever make a truly horrendous album (the direction of Blackacidevil was never continued), but with I Luciferi he’s come pretty close to being a shitty artist. A ‘5’ on the strength of “Unendlich”/”Black Mass.”

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Circle of Snakes (2004)

4

Wotans Procession / Skincarver / Circle of Snakes / 1000 Devils Reign / Skull Forrest / Hell Mask / When We Were Dead / Night, BeSodom / My Darkness / Netherbound / Black Angel, White Angel

Is there anything even as remotely annoying as the guy who just won't give up, a guy who keeps on milking out the same old lame joke, keeps on nagging about the same thing over and over again, a guy who doesn't realize he just isn't that relevant anymore? I think it's time for Glenn Danzig to resign from the music business. The whole "Evil Elvis smacked to the floor"-humiliation ensured that the release of Danzig's 8th album Circle of Snakes was somewhat overlooked and after having listened to the album for a few nights, I can only conclude that it was for the best. Once again, it's impossible for me to hate the album - if it had been released by someone else, I'd perhaps even given a lower rating - because it does have a certain Fonzig-essence all his albums except for Blackacidevil have. It's just that… well it's just that it's another sub-par release, the fourth in a row, that's just no match for any of the first four albums. Those bluesy hard rock albums had swell riffs, a good sound, confident and theatrical vocals that somehow never completely descended into self-conscious drivel, but since the failed experiment that followed his albums only became uglier, more brutal and blander. Circle of Snakes is no exception to that evolution, because it's a concrete slab of thunderous heavy metal for the most part. Danzig surrounded himself with a completely new line-up of Jerry Montano (bass), Bevan Davies (drums) and, interestingly, Tommy Victor of Prong on guitar. That guy can obviously play, but these riffs are all so uninspired and make you wonder whether he just did what he was told and waited to get paid. After each riff (or lots of 'em), there's this high-pitched, squeaking harmony-thing that gets on my nerves. It's a kind of semi-industrial sound that's close to nu-metal, but the problem is it already sounds dated in 2005. Throughout "Skincarver," "Night, BeSodom," "My Darkness" and the album closer the band rocks, but never rolls. The soulful delivery of the classic line-up is replaced with the uninspired bludgeoning Danzig's immersed himself in for almost a decade and it's been enough. Some of the songs have something about 'em that makes 'em sound promising for a while, but they can't deal with repeated listens. The title track boasts a riff that would've fit nicely on Prong's Cleansing, but when you reach the one minute-mark, it's already become a drag. "Skull Forrest" and "When We Were Dead" are actually quite decent and prefer a kind of gothic atmosphere over mindless pounding, so that the lyrics are the only thing that's offensively cartoonish about 'em, but… they're just not it, can't live up to the textures and moods of How the Gods Kill or 4p. Best of all are perhaps the simple creepiness of the opening "track" (well, it's more a kind of instrumental intro like "Unendlich" on 777) and the recognisable "1000 Devils Reign," where Glenn actually succeeded in fooling me he's still capable of coming up with good, catchy songs and singing well. Okay, it's a stupid riff, but most hard rock is stupid, so we're not gonna complain about that. But it has a chorus you can actually sing along to in that good, old-fashioned hooligan style, like the biker-rock of the debut. Tough, masculine rock for men with sideburns. But elsewhere? Like I said: stale riffs, no subtlety and usually tame, lifeless and old vocals (check out the lame Samhain-styled ""Hellmask") that make you wish he'd actually get out of his rocking chair to go out and kill someone. This career is over.

Note: Don't even open the booklet, unless you wanna see evil Glenn wearing his fangs and truly ugly half-naked women who look like they're failed scientific experiments.

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Glanzig 1 - Danzifuge (1999) by Glanzig

3

Long Way Back from Hell / Am I Demon / Twist of Cain / Dirty Black Summer / Her Black Wings / Mother / Devil’s Plaything / Brand New God / Last Caress / Hollywood Babylon / Bullet

Remember that scene in P.T. Anderson’s Magnolia with the frogs that are falling from the sky? At some point during that scene, when we’re with Melora Walters’ and her on-screen mom in her apartment, the camera unexpectedly zooms in on some painting, and in the corner of it, there’s a scrap of paper with the words “But it DID happen” on it. Those were exactly the words that crept into my head while listening to Danzifuge and inspecting its booklet. As you might’ve expected, Glanzig is some kind of tribute band (one with a sense of humor!), but it’s more than just that. Not only the original back cover of Lucifuge was reproduced, but the inner photos and even the print on the CD itself as well. It would’ve been hilarious if it had ended here, but for some reason these guys have come up with attempts to imitate the classic Danzig sound as closely as possible. The first eight songs (three from the debut and Lucifuge, one from How the Gods Kill and 4p) are note-for-note imitations of the original versions, and in a way, they did a tremendous job. With the volume turned down, you might assume it to be the real deal, as it has the same, dry, minimal sound of the Biscuits-Christ-Von line-up.

On top of this, singer Tony Glanzig (real name: Jelencovich – formerly of metal band B-Thong) pretends he’s the Scandinavian Fonzig, and while that works convincingly in “Long Way Back from Hell” (that first scream is SPOT ON!) and most of the other songs, his voice is less resonant than Glenn’s and lacks the slightly Southern twang (replaced by a noticeable Swedish accent) needed to deliver a 100% perfect copy during “Devil’s Plaything.” I’m not sure whether the concept of a Sound Mix Show* is familiar to everyone, but if there was ever gonna be a rock version, these guys would get my vote. However, this ain’t no goddamn Sound Mix Show, it’s a CD, and as goes with CD’s, I expect artists to come up with something creative. I wouldn’t have minded if they’d turned in weak variations of a familiar style, but Jesus Christ already, only trying to convince the listener you’re the real deal? What’s the idea? What’s the purpose? What’s there to win? Do something useful, turn a hard-rocking song into a ballad, play “Mother” as if it’s a Bulgarian polka, or sing it like a wimp, but please DO something and CREATE, because I’ve heard few albums as lame as this one. Granted, there are also a few versions of Misfits songs (and nobody remembers how they sounded anyway), and they’re actually pretty good (especially “Hollywood Babylon,” but that’s probably because it’s my favorite Misfits-song to start with), but again, the way in which Tony G. tries to sound like Elvis on Speed, it’s just too ridiculous for words. Also funny: the CD contains 66 songs (the last one being – SURPRISE!!! – a live version of “Mother” that actually sounds better than any live stuff ever officially released by Danzig), and the CD display will show you something that starts with 666, but by that point I didn’t care anymore. It’s useless to blame these guys of acting like copycats (like, for instance, the way in which hundreds of bands were ripping off The Beatles in the mid-‘60’s), because it’s an intentional explicit tribute, but still … the LAZINESS, the USELESSNESS … what a pile of NONSENSE! This should never leave rehearsal rooms.

* As with American Idol/ Pop Idol/ World Idol/ Moronic Idol, you gather a few no talent-idiots and make them sing their favorite shitty song, with the difference that they can’t just yelp in their own (anti-)style, but they have to resemble the artist they’re covering as closely as possible, both in appearance and voice. It usually leads to some mind-blowing results.

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