St. Madness - Vampires In The Church |
Published Oct. 11 2006
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Vampires In The Church |
| Genre | Theatrical Heavy Metal |
Prophet
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Vocals
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| Tracks | 15 |
Alter Boy
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Guitar
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| Runningtime | 64 Min. |
Mad Marvin
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Guitar
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| Label | Nasty Pick Records |
Uno Mosh
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Bass
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| Release | 06 June 2006 |
Dark Soul
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Drums
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| Country | USA |
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Keyboards
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| Similar artists | Metallica, Misfits, Halloween | ||
On this fifth self-financed studio release, Arizona's St. Madness - those vascular vampires who make evil fun - are back from the dead-heat of the night, covered in blood again. Still speaking in tongue and cheek fashioned head games, these furious frustrated clowns of the manic mind, persistently preach hate when the terror comes and the fear surmounts: thereby, breaking the spiritual law, willing to scare the world of the inane and unsane.
St. Madness has undergone several line-up changes, including the departure of Dr. Frankenshred. However, the mainstay soothsayer/truth slayer vocal lust of Prophet, prohibits any comparisons. Prophet's probity procreates a propensity for the proclititc counterpoint, through his proclivity for profanity. This cynosure cynic, sins and sure knows how to sing, sounding like a killer clown from outer space. The macabre music mixes many genre generations, summoning the expression list of melancholy and mirth, harnessing the tepid tone of temerity. Lead guitarist, Altar Boy, boisters like an acolyte saviour, with his sick six string ringing the bells of unholy communion. Mad Marvin and Uno Mosh mesh the final saline solution, as Dark Soul drums like a terror trained wreck on the subway to Satan, in the dark might of his soul.
Scaling and balancing homeostatic, clandestine melodies with blue shade, eschews any stereotypic banalities. These evil Elvis cunt-treated pop standards serve to seduce and surprise as the listener becomes caught in the vortex of text and tarnation, living in a dying world with no mercy or mission. These bloody, fallen angels return to madness, stirring the cauldron of kill or beguiled, in loves butcher shop, performing the insane madness of killing chores; acting like the neighbour of the beastly.
This crucifixation of rot and rule, reels and rears its ugly skull as St. Madness show their contumacy and contempt for politicians and the rapists, on bitter cuts like Speaking In Tongues and Missing Girls Body Found. Then there is the Van Halenish wrath of grapes song, Covered In Blood. An enticing bite like this emulates David Lee Roth's Ice Cream Man - I scream mania. My favorite fain tizzy is the standout scenic portrayal of the band's natural state, Arizona, an accoustic, anthemic power ballad delineating the majesty and magnificence of its rich peaks and landscapes, replete with its own self expression and spiritual continuity.
Another cardinal signature comes in the form of Carl The Clown, with its circus maximized amplification and meaty big tenderloin nook, hook, and chunk. This character, Carl The Clown, is an ambiguous wretch Ed Gein meets Shakes the Clown. St. Madness show their sybaritic side and allude to Kiss with the in your face fellatio thrust of Head, which stands erect thus giving love the shaft, suggesting simply that the penis is mightier than these words of wisdom: "Suck it till I'm dead!" Prophet testifies and comments on vapid plastic surgery in the silly clone dream dance Expressionless; modern womens' worse mistake. He mitigates his murder fantasies with cathartic angst in Kill, a song to which we all can relate. He exhibits his passionate side with the somber soliloquoy Ever After, attributing to his personal pain and loss. There is even the promiscuously dirty and divine hail for suicidal limitation and immolation, the track, I Cut Myself, itself, a parody of the Divinyls - I Touch Myself. Walk is a Pantera cover dedicated to Dimebag's guitar inspiration and metal magic; and this love the band hold in his memory.
Essentially, St. Madness are metal, but their sound is
difficult to pin down or classify. At times they thrash until death
like early Metallica or modern Misfits. The have the theatrics of Halloween
from Detroit and the luck of the beast sting of vintage W.A.S.P. Overall
they write infectouss grooves and deliberate acts of contradiction involving
morose character. They may paint there faces, use pseudonyms, and mask
their true identities; but, these mad saints in Hell from Arizona prove
to be well-read and ready to rock!
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Production
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Vocals
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Compositions
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7 |
7,5 |
8 |
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Summary
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7,5 chalices of 10 - Michael the MettleAngel |
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