Secret Treaties is the last and best of the so-called “black-and-white” trilogy of albums that kicked off Blue Öyster Cult’s career: a trio of mysterious, monochrome-covered rock albums that peaked with this 1974 release. It’s dark, esoteric and also a bit of a hoot. It’s an album of parodic garage-rock horror reminiscent of Alice Cooper’s Killer, full of psychedelic monster mashes like Career Of Evil, the oddly cute Cagey Cretins and the seismic, psychotic Harvester Of Eyes. And those aren’t even the best tracks. Overdriven boogie rocker ME262 puts you in the pilot’s seat of a Junkers Jumo 004 (“Hitler’s on the phone from Berlin, he’s gonna make you a star”) and Dominance And Submission has a superb, swinging groove, an unforgettable climax (“radios appear”) and some creepy interjections from Charles The Grinning Boy… “it will be time”. But the album truly peaks with its closing tracks, Flaming Telepaths and Astronomy. Both are grand, magnificent masterpieces with affecting muscianship and beautifully cryptic imagery. Astronomy in particular is a complete head-scratcher. I’d love to know what “the nexus of the crisis, the origin of storms” really means but then… I feel like not knowing is kind of the point. And the reason Secret Treaties remains so eternally fascinating and alluring.
Blitzkrieg only managed to release one official 7″ single before splitting up in late 1981. Otherwise, they had some demos in circulation and a song Inferno on the Lead Weight compilation. Luckily for Blitzkrieg, their solitary release was impressive enough that Metallica ended up covering its eponymous B-side. This bestowed infamy and cult credibility to the defunct band and ensured their return in 1985.
But luck didn’t really have much to do with it cause Blitzkrieg is superb. The unforgettable opening riff might have been purloined from the Focus classic Hocus Pocus but it doesn’t matter because Blitzkrieg conjure up their own metal magic here. The mega-chunk guitars, deadly hooks (“let us have peace, let us have life”) and a dynamic rifferama climax make this mandatory listening. And the less-famous A-side Buried Alive isn’t too shabby either. Stark, driving metal with a piercingly catchy chorus. Just ignore the Bolanesque nonsense lyrics “the Leather Prince, turned to mince”… I can see why Metallica steered clear of that one.
“My soul has vanished, with the bird that flies so free”
They’re not a metal band by any stretch of the imagination, but Sister Seagull is definitely one of Be-Bop Deluxe’s more metal-friendly tunes. It’s one of those watery psychedelic ballads that hard rock and metal bands used to do in the 70s and early 80s. Judas Priest, Scorpions, UFO, Angel Witch, Iron Maiden… they’ve all done them! But this is one of the best. Sister Seagull has a simple D5-E5 riff that is very metal and because metal fans are suckers for a guitar god, check out Bill Nelson’s fluid and cascading pentatonic soloing. Loads of bands might have recorded songs like this, but few did it with the sheer class and expressive emotion of Sister Seagull.
HMO Rating: 5 Out Of 5
Or, as an added bonus, check out this magnificently-trousered performance from the Old Grey Whistle Test.
I was first introduced to Queensrÿche’sProphecy via the live version on the Building Empires VHS, before acquiring the studio version as the bonus track on the CD reissue of the band’s 1983 debut EP. Nowadays you’ll find it as a bonus track on the reissue of 1984’s The Warning because it was written during that era but I’ve since discovered it wasn’t actually recorded until the sessions for their 1986 album Rage For Order! Bloody hell. But it doesn’t really matter because this song holds it own anywhere. It’s got the classy Rage For Order production sheen but its traditional melodic metal style fits in nicely on The Warning and the EP. Some extremely bouncy riffing, catchy hooks, nice vocal harmonies and some nifty and memorable guitar soloing from Chris DeGarmo and Michael Wilton make Prophecy a standout favourite… wherever you hear it.
Basking in the incredible success of their 1996 reunion tour, the four original members of KISS headed back into the studio to pick up where they left off: completely unable to work together. In fact, the entire band only appear together twice on 1998’s so-called reunion album Psycho Circus. The whole band performs Ace Frehley’s Into The Void (which, surprise surprise, is the only track here that sounds anything like classic KISS) and they all sing together on the fairly average You Wanted The Best. In truth, however, this is the Paul n’ Gene show. Which would be fine if the album was actually any good, but it’s a muddled, mediocre effort. Stanley exerts a bit of quality control with the anthemic, stomping title track and Gene offers up the suprisingly good closer Journey Of 1,000 Years but both performers have seen better days. Within is terrible alterna-metal, Finally Found My Way is a limp and dated ballad and the album is loaded with empty and charmless statements of unity. Doing a greatest hits nostalgia trek is one thing, moving forward as a creative unit is another entirely. KISS would have been better settling for the nostalgia because Psycho Circus left the inimitable rock legends looking like nothing but a bunch of clowns.
There’s a killer on the loose in this highlight from Witch Cross’ 1984 debut album Fit For Fight. And a clown-faced one at that. The worst kind. Although this Danish band were geographically excluded from the movement, this track definitely has some raw New Wave Of British Heavy Metal magic to it. Funereal keyboards set the creepy tone before the predatory riffing kicks in. Brilliant Rhoads-esque guitar work here and the appropriately-named vocalist Alex Savage delivers the song’s deadly hooks with soaring ease. Highly recommended for fans of early Maiden, Riot and Witch Cross’ fellow countrymen Mercyful Fate. It’s jester killer.
It’s tempting to see 1992’s Angel Dust as a deliberate and contrarian attempt to confuse fans following the unexpected success and “funk metal” pigeonholing of 1989’s The Real Thing. But that album was already weird enough, with its vibrant range of styles and Mike Patton’s darkly humourous lyrics. So, with Patton now fully involved in the band’s musical direction rather than just vocals and lyrics, Faith No More were really just evolving naturally: becoming weirder and more eclectic than ever before. Scathing, metallic rockers like the sarcastic Land Of Sunshine and the jackhammer Caffeine mingle with the sample-heavy melodic genius of Midlife Crisis, Everything’s Ruined and A Small Victory. But the album is at its best when it goes all Alice Cooper. RV‘s quirky portrayal of a trailer park slob has moments of soaring pathos and the album’s choicest deep cut Crack Hitler is a funky soundtrack for the best 70s TV action show you’ve never seen. It’s not all perfect. The cover of Midnight Cowboy is a pointless coda and I find the noisemare tracks Malpractice and Jizzlobber a bit uneventful. But even they still contribute to the dark, weird totality and I doubt Faith No More wanted anyone to like all of this. The contrary buggers. Like the cover’s pairing of a majestic egret with images of a slaughterhouse… Angel Dust is both beautiful and hideous. A challenging masterpiece. So sing and rejoice, sing and rejoice.