"The Unspeakable"

by Octopi Mills

Year of the Goat are from Sweden and are said to make occult doom rock... "All He Has Read" opens up the album in a strange mood that is dark and turns into a classic sort of metal that sounds like earlier periods with a melodic sense.  The song stretches out 12 minutes, with changes here and there. Then something hits me; and it is insane and subtle, as if slipping into a warm, hallucinogenic mushroom bath and a smile spreads over my mind like hot apple butter from granny's pantry spread over a soft white loaf of foolish cake. 

At first I was expecting a stoner doom metal stereotype, but it seems more in a "power metal" camp here- though one of the most bizarre i have ever possibly heard.  I wish I could not use these terms but there you have it, as i am bound to such human conditions and must nod to such, regretfully so. The moments that follow are like a 70's sort of Helloween affair, but that cannot do it justice at all. The voice narrates a sort of toy box madness with fantastical lyrics and vocals that are friendly and pappa-bear-ish and there is a feeling that comes as if one is abruptly cast in some sort of candy land with licorice-like guitar heroism and white confetti frosted cream over an assortment of Christmas light colored keys, as if the bass were like bon bon candies dipped in white almond barks made from rich Swedish creams. Suddenly I can no longer visualize the promo photos of men in black suits around horned skulls but rather candy-men with white frosting covered suits tinged with ice blue hues in Swedish fancy. I taste gummy treats with hard sugar coatings and soft interiors and I think the workmen in this job to be made of the same. I can almost picture in my own candied brains men with white chocolate cocoa in their beards and milk mustaches of pale delight, as if awaiting some Santa Claus type deity as snow flakes drift down in assorted colors. 

I almost burst out in maniacal laughter at my own thoughts, how they topple over like staggering candy striped canes or barber poles, though I know this is only the wall papers of my own thoughts set to fire in this fantastic scenario...I can almost see toys and feel like someone is twisting my mind like a balloon animal-yes, I have a feeling someone is toying with my brains and twisting my thoughts into balloon animals. The vocals are heavily creamed and rich with insane melody and little strings play horsey parts that carousel into verbs and adjectives like baby pink lemonades of the thought pool.

 It is not a summer camp but more of a winter wonderland where stars shine like jewels and sparkle like the eyes of cartoon characters and one is separated from God and introduced to elvish work tools to craft children's dreams; feverish nightmares!...Good lord, i can almost taste the madness of lemon or lime and I eat at the strap to my own metaphoric overalls in frothing lunacy from the soft candied moon overhead. The chords are popped around like sweet tarts and lollipops suckled by sucker-fish with eyes on the sides of their fish heads...Vocals are scented puppy breath and moments of glam rock come out like that great promise of youth given only by gumball dispensaries in a feel that is an open air asylum and terrifying. I began eating desert at the time this review got underway; a strawberry pie with berries cut into heart shapes, though you must believe me when I tell you that I am not mad, nor was it caused by this- No, though I tell you the irony is like a conspiracy that is gibberish to explain and utterly overwhelming. I hear now the strings… oh how dreamy at certain moments as they pluck the fowl mind and the vocals sound like they are coming from a child like face with rosy cheeks that house a catfish-like mustache, slicked and lacquered with a bright finish...It is this very glazing that covers the thing before me; like a graham cracker house lit by weird little lights, and I am ushered into abstract madness. It is in this very glazing, how I now realize that, if properly used, could be employed by mind control experts. On "World of Wonders" which is a weirdo's winning ticket the line "Claw like hands" is spoken to a feverish effect that sets forth a oceanic madness that makes me feel like a crustacean in a soda fountain of cool blue… oh how the caramel and the apple stick to the walls of the brains deep within the dreaming skull when the candy man mutters: "close your eyes and let the spirit show you the way"...How he mutters it like a whimpering dog and it's scary...the candy-men frighten me, mamma, and I wonder if they work for the government? Can we trust them? I will not be able to forget this one, and I mean that...