"A Driftwood Cross"

By Laird Octopi Mills

Kilted in dark blue and green, I sit, listening to the new WITCHSKULL and it is as big and dumb as we could want. The first song rides out all the old same places you've been, and feels good enough to justify a search warrant on the black cathedrals. The ceremony is enough to warrant a good arse plunging akin to the ninth degree of the O.T.O from old Crowley himself, and reeks of the weird pulp of a hundred oaks and a thousand pressings. The Gnosticism is a lyrical phase that cannot be questioned, paired with the exploitation of the ancient digs that have wound up in the hands of the handsy guitarist(s) of the 70's new age movement, and they are handed down from the word of mouth of those who, though never having lived it in many ways, reconstruct it in their own moral degeneracy to the self- styled triple crowned of un-initiation.  

"The Silent Place" parrots like a Rothschild in a white peacock mask; never caring if the script was invisible or ordained, at least not outright. "The Red Altar" goes somewhere that Robert Howard might have, without actually having the literary skills, riding what is to some merely a riff and to others...a carpet ride into what Dunsany held but never shared or endorsed. "Dresden" comes with the times...the lyrics are not printed, to my knowledge, and this is unfortunate. Here we may have something of the fire bombing or something we are no longer able to even question, or we may have gotten ahold of some medical marijuana from auntie's script. I wish I could pull up a chair here but I would be muzzled and not allowed to talk in the freelance manner common to all good men, and this implies nothing to glean from what I said other than is such in all decent free poetry or prose. The sound is not fully enough to have all the atmosphere of the magnetic era, but it’s not bad at all and shows the group in a mature sense. 

Though this all has nothing to do with early RAINBOW featuring Blackmore and Dio, I must state I have been listening to the early RAINBOW for awhile lately. I remembered reviewing their last album or another here, I think, and if not it must have been a weird dream.  The vocals mess about in one or two modes, and do well to be same for the play time, thus playing ball like most do when they take the approach of an album’s recording. The last song reminds me of certain parts that have nearly a southern rock influence at times, though it's nothing to get too wordy about. I have deduced that there are many terrible and uninspired "doom" bands-this WITCHSKULL band doesn't do too bad compared to the rest. 

As I've said, doom metal is a genre that hasn't yet reached the mark as it could have, and is still young in these regards. Much like Gerald Gardener did nothing for forest religions that hadn't been done before, he did, in myth, tickle the blindfolded arses of his female initiates with the proverbial (or real)l feather duster that is idiotic indulgence. Here we see WITCHSKULL doing the same; having a fun time at perhaps the expense of others, yet somewhere having enough imagery and gimmick to make someone head to the old railway man's bar to hear the sound over a bitter and dark stout...dark, just like our very lives.