SKULL146

Posted on May 26, 2013 by Friar Wagner

RIPPER, Into Oblivion (2010, Blackwater)

The skull:
This could technically be disqualified as unworthy of BDS’s strict standards under the “no skulls” rule. This skull is carrying a kind of necklace of two smaller skulls, but they were ruled inconsequential in a controversial Council 5-4 ruling. Also note that since this skull has no neckbones, it can hardly be called a necklace. Just a couple skulls clinging to some sinew or spew handing off the main skull’s chin. The big skull itself is one horny bastard. Leering with evil intent isn’t enough to show his malicious intentions, so he has not one but two sets of horns, a smaller set and a ram-like helix, and with some junk dripping off everything, this bad boy is ready to rip. Great cover, we wholly approve!

The music:
This Portland band bring to mind the dirtier work of Chris Black, like a more melodic and traditional metal-slanted Superchrist with the fun energy of High Spirits. Raw and blazing with Motorhead-like speed, it’s the melodic component that really sells this. Like early Iron Maiden with a shot of punky attitude, the riffs and melody lines strangled out by the guitarist are played with a ton of enthusiasm, and while they’re melodies we’ve heard somewhere before, they do their job, giving Ripper a hard-to-dislike sort of appeal. I like the recording, very raw but not deficient in any area…it works perfectly for what they’re doing. The vocals also bring Chris Black to mind — nothing virtuosic, but sung from the gut and heart…and Lemmy-like, of course. Once you get to the middle of the album you realize Ripper is a one trick pony, but it’s a good trick, and it lasts no longer than it should (28 cozy minutes).
— Friar Wagner

SKULL145

Posted on May 25, 2013 by Friar Wagner

CANDLEMASS, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus (1986, Black Dragon)

The skull:
One of the most iconic skull images in metal, the Candlemass skull needs no introduction, but what about it is so memorable? The horns and the spears. The horns are a diabolic touch; the drumstick-like spikes spearing the skull and forming a crucifix pattern are clearly awesome. Plus, the grainy black-and-white is perfect in its minimalism, and even has a bleakness about it. The gothic/Olde English logo font and Combat-style font for the album title…just everything. A perfect album cover, and one of the finest skull covers you will ever see.

The music:
Finally we have a skull cover that not only rules but has equally excellent music to match. This album is a mere six songs but totally complete in every way. Its atmosphere is morose and epic, the very best definition of “doom metal” possible. Interestingly, the session guys provide the most musically impressive performances: the leads of Klas Bergwall are soaring things that make the most of both aggression and melody, very much minor key and apparently taking influence from classic music, especially reminiscent of various religious hymns. His passages sound like they’re coming from the minds and hands of a church organist and not a mere rock guitarist. Bergwell is clearly a skilled player who never recorded on another metal album again (damn shame). Same story with vocalist Johan Längquist, who is not only magnificent in his pleading, desperate, booming delivery, and not only the best singer the band ever had, but actually turns in one of the most memorable performances on any metal album. Another damn shame that he would never sing on another Candlemass album. The whole thing has a creepy, medieval, ancient vibe. Leif Edling’s riffs and note sequences are amongst the most memorable in the genre — check the main riff of “Black Stone Wielder.” Awesome. What Edling lacks as a bassist he more than makes up for as a songwriter. Candlemass is only a live entity these days, no more studio recordings (so they say), and it’s just as well, because as good as successive albums might have been, they’ve never topped this one in terms of epic doom metal purity.
— Friar Wagner

SKULL144

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

TOURNIQUET, Where Moth and Rust Destroy (2003, Metal Blade)

The skull:
You can’t fault Tourniquet for failing to address the title with their big dumb skull, as this guy here is indeed rusting through and beset by moth. The logo and even the white background are also falling apart, which earns the band bonus points for total thematic unity. None of that makes this cover any cooler, unfortunately. If I didn’t know this came out in 2003, I’d say it could have been done in some iPad drawing app, and I’m certain that it was knocked out with the minimum of effort by some friend of the band with a Wacom tablet.

The music:
Tourniquet were never very good, although for some reason I pretend that their 1992 release Pathogenic Occular Dissonance was alright. It really wasn’t, but it almost could have been. It’s got a nicely overwrought title that suggests some kind of tech thrash, and their singer back then was not bad, but Tourniquet’s brand of aspirationally progressive thrash has always come up short in the quality department. After their original singer left, a dude going by Luke Easter (which is a very suspicious name for a guy in a Christian metal band) took over, and while his snarly Mustaine-meets-Hetfield delivery isn’t bad, per se, it nevertheless comes off as cut-rate. The music, at least since their 2000 “comeback” (after a few years trying to make a go of selling out) is also vaguely Megadethian, following the pattern of the Friedman years without even quite reaching those middling heights. And at that, Where Moth and Rust Destroy is about good as it gets for post-Occular Tourniquet, although to be fair, I haven’t heard their most recent album. There are even some nice Dimension-era Believer influences coming through here, and a song about giant squids. As with a lot of Christian bands, Tourniquet seems to get by on the guaranteed sales at Mustard Seed stores or whatever; no secular thrash band this mediocre would be able to secure label support year after year. Well, maybe they could now, especially if they played up the squids and played down the Jeebus.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL143

Posted on May 23, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

SCOWL, Impetus Ex Caenum (2013, Speed Ritual)

The skull:
Man, that’s a lot of bullets. But, if you look closely, you can see the outline of the lower jaw, and from its position, it doesn’t appeal that the teeth are parted. So, maybe these bullets were drawn in after the fact? The way they extend around the back, it’s as if the entire skull were opened up to accomodate them, when clearly that’s not the case. But, whatever, man: Scowl’s artist didn’t waste his time in school time learning anatomy or perspective from The Man. He draws what he knows, and what he knows is a big dumb skull in a silly hat with a mouthful of bullets. What’s not to like?

The music:
The music, that’s what, Impetus Ex Caenum is low-fi D-beat of the dullest sort. If it wasn’t recorded live in their rehearsal room, then they certainly spent too much at whatever studio they went to. Everything about this is a sloppy mess, but the drummer deserves a special mention for his ineptitude. I don’t know why anyone would go to the hassle and trouble of starting a band, just to make this. Scowl makes me long for the fabled creative genius of Skullfather.

SKULL142

Posted on May 22, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

SKULLFATHER, Order of the Skull (2008, self-released)

The skull:
A garden variety skull photo, limned in red, and framed by a terribly ugly and distorted, tattoo-parlor olde English typeface for the logo and title. What else is there to say? The Council does commend Skullfather for the singularity of their commitment to the skull. It’s in their name, their demo title, and on the cover. A trifecta! But, we’ve seen some variation on this cover several times since Big Dumb Skulls was launched, and we’re hardly one-fifth of the way through all the skulls collected by The Council. It’s gonna be a long couple of years, I think.

The music:
One man, bedroom Entombed worship. And not even the good stuff, but the watered-down, post-death rock throwback stuff from the mid 00s. Then again, maybe Skullfather isn’t an Entombed clone, but a Desultory clone. Double meaning! Allx (sic), the presumed Skullfather, does a pretty good job emulating the Sunlight Studios guitar tone, but his songs are boring, his vocals unimpressive, and his drum programming pedestrian. I guess even Allx was bored with this shit, because he only produced these four songs before his one man band broke up. I won’t miss them.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL141

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

MÄAX, Six Pack Witchcraft (2010, Abyss)

The skull:
A skull, an ace, a pair of wings, two knives, and an umlaut: it sure looks like Mäax is trying to muscle in on Motörhead’s territory. Substitute Snaggletooth for Mäax’s more generic skull and you’d have a perfect cover for a mid 90s Motörhead album. The other two Mäax discs have entirely different covers that also incorporate 100% of these design elements, so I guess they’re part of this band’s “thing.”

The music:
Mäax are a bunch of thick guys in leather vests making extra-filthy, Venomized, Motörhead-style “rock and roll”. It’s shitty metal to anyone with ears, but bands like this always fetishize the inspiration they draw from Elvis or Buddy Holly or Little Richard or whomever. The vocals are so bad that even the grunting has to be run through effects to give them any character, and the playing is far too loose for its own good. But, the main offense of music like this is its blandness. It styles itself as hard and rebellious, but it comes off as just another bunch of too-old barroom braggarts trying to pass as 70s tough. Nein!
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL140

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

DEFYANCE, Voices Within (1992, demo)

The skull:
I’m not sure what all that curvy business is; is is part of the logo? Some kind of ornate Poe-style bladed pendulum? Demonic headgear for skully orthodontia? Whatever it is, the skull looks a little surprised. “Oh hey! What are you doing? I didn’t see you there…” He’s probably embarrassed to be caught posing for this low-rent demo. “It’s just a quick pencil sketch for some metal band, nothing serious,” he says, and you nod in understanding, but he knows you’re giggling on the inside.

The music:
I don’t think I personally own this demo, but I’m fairly certain I own the band’s first self-released disc, which came out in the mid 90s. Melodic metal was thin on the ground in the States back then, and we who loved that shit were reduced to buying some truly rotten crap in the hopes of finding some lone holdout for power metal in the aggro decade. Defyance were certainly not the worst of the bands working that circuit back then, but they also didn’t stand out as particularly great. These four songs have a commercial slant not unlike, say, Fifth Angel, but not as good. That this demo is form 1992 is a sign that probably these guys also listened to their share of hair metal, but preferred to make their metal a little heavier, even if they couldn’t get away from the corny lyrical cliches. Probably the singer was more into Cinderella than Iron Maiden, but the other guys in the band had to put up with his corny lyrics because it’s so hard to find a guy who can hit the high notes. You can easily imagine Defyance as the second local opener for a Savatage club show circa Streets. Good enough that you’d tap your foot while you were at the bar talking to your buddy, but not so great that you’d consider moving closer to the stage. Just good enough, in other words, and no better.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL139

Posted on May 19, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

SUIDAKRA, Command to Charge (2005, Locomotive)

The skull:
I suppose we’re expected to understand the background to be a splashing pool of liquid metal or something, but to me it looks more like fancy satin sheets, and because that interpretation especially confounds any possible meaning in this cover, I’m going to go with it. The skull is undeniably metal, maybe chromed steel, with some celtic designs printed thereon, because this German band is really into Ireland and Scotland, for some reason. Most puzzling is the bullet casing in the skull’s teeth. At first I thought this was another case of an artist not knowing how bullets work, expecting us to think the skull caught a fired bullet in his teeth. But then I noticed the smoke and have to conclude that the skull, for some reason, was holding a cartridge in his teeth when someone else struck the primer, expelling the lead backward. Or something. Sure, the smoke should be coming from the other end of the cartridge, but whatever. Artistic license. From the way the skull is positioned, I guess the bullet would probably clear the base of the skull in the back, and maybe that’s why the skull looks so smugly pleased with himself and his badass trick.

The music:
When I first heard Suidakra in the late 90s, they were an also-ran melodic death metal band of the sort you couldn’t get away from back then. Think early In Flames mixed with a little Dissection, even, but not as good as that sounds. They were fine, but undistinguished. Then some time in the early 00s, they hitched their wagons to bagpipes and jigs, and were all set for the coming popularity of “pagan metal,” which is a label that makes less and less sense every year. By the time of Command to Charge, all of the genuine heaviness had been purged from the band’s sound, turning them into, in effect, a low-tuned power metal band with some death vocals. The clean vocals are rather bad, too. The whole affair, while not exactly unpleasant, is almost offensively bland: death metal for kilt enthusiasts. Where’s that bullet to the brain when you need it?
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL138

Posted on May 18, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

DESTRUCTION, Metal Discharge (2003, Nuclear Blast)

The skull:
A metal skull, cracking apart. About as literal as it could be, for an album called Metal Discharge. But, this isn’t the first time the band has used this exact skull: he appeared on the previous studio album, The Antichrist and on the intervening live album, Alive Devastation. The artistic laziness displayed here is almost staggering. I’m sure the artist worked up the illustration in Adobe Illustrator or something and just applied different textures for each album. I can’t even begin to imagine why Destruction, a popular and well capitalized band, would approach their album covers with such lackadaisical disregard for ingenuity, but here we are. We at Skull HQ have chosen this particular cover because it so singularly emphasizes the skull, without even bothering to cram some stupid crap in the background. Bonus points are awarded for the tacky, graffiti-style addition of the word “Discharge,” a hacky design gimmick wrenched through time from the distant year of 1991.

The music:
It would be a stretch to call any of the post-reunion Destruction albums essential, but they also haven’t released any real stinkers or embarrassed themselves, which, in light of other reunions, should be considered a rousing success. Personally, I think the band peaked with the weird techthrash of Release from Agony, and even the Schmier-less Cracked Brain is more creatively satisfying than the reunion stuff, but the first few of the new albums, especially, are good fun. Schmier actually sounds better now than he did back in the 80s, and what their recent songs lack in ambition, they make up for in enthusiasm and brisk timekeeping. Guitarist Mike Sifringer is an underrated riffmeister, and every song is jam packed with excellent rhythm work. Obviously, not every riff is a homerun, but sometimes quantity is its own quality. I think if you mixed up songs from this album, and the ones before and after it, I’d be really hard pressed to tell you which came from what album, but some might find that consistency admirable.
— Friar Johnsen

SKULL137

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Friar Johnsen

UNHOLY GRAVE, Revoltage (2007, Agromosh)

The skull:
A skull with a neckbeard. What will they think of next? The horns feel a bit like lily-gilding, but I guess the artist just got on a roll that study hall, or maybe the parole hearing went on a lot longer than expected, and the horns just happened. And all that other bony crap littering up the cover. I’m sure this will look really nice on someone’s shoulder, next to a Crass logo or something.

The music:
Unlistenably noisy crust grind. It sounds like it was mastered boombox-to-boombox. EVERYTHING is distorted, all the time. The only thing I own that I can even remotely compare to this garbage is an old Hellbastard demo, and while I don’t take any special enjoyment from that, it’s a classic for the ages by comparison to Unholy Grave. Perhaps not surprisingly, Unholy Grave put the absolute minimum amount of care and effort into their recordings, having produced one hundred and forty demos, singles, splits, EPs and LPs in the last 20 years. Only the good die young.
— Friar Johnsen