It’s been three years since Canadian’s Blood Ceremony draped us in their rich and Eldritch Darkness and time has been spent constructing a new album that has plenty going on in it both musically and thematically. Delving into esoteric and historic English practices and never straying far from arcane rites as formulated by the great Anthony Shaffer penned Wicker Man, here we delve into ‘Saturnalian bacchanalia’ and bloody sacrifices draped in a backbone of psychedelia and witchy retro progressiveness. Like a great page turner it is left for the music and songs to entrance and the listener to delve deep and uncover the meanings behind each of the nine tales spun here.
Like a classic slice of 70’s b movie greatness the first of these odes The Devil’s Widow is a magical ode of devilry with a sound rooted in a myriad of colours taking in a kaleidoscope of sounds centred around Alia O’Brien’s fluted trilling and naturally enticing vocal tones. The chorus hits with song title being chanted out and quickly gets in your head, after just one listen you will no doubt be looking forward to hearing it live and singing along to it yourself. Carillo’s drumming provides a solid backbone and a guitar solo from Kennedy spirals out dextrously enticing you into its depths. There’s obviously plenty of bands you could compare this to from Black Widow (as it calls you to the Sabbat) to Pentangle and obviously with the flute Jethro Tull. Blood Ceremony have created a sound that although firmly rooted in the past is clearly evidently theirs now and instantly identifiable with it. This opener is like greeting an old friend after not seeing them for a while. If it were a book it would be like embracing a missing Dennis Wheatley novel. However as ‘Lorely’ fragrantly unspools and gets ready to grasp we have the first surprise with a sound that is deeply rooted in the pop world of 60’s and 70’s. The flute is dropped and we have what reminds of a real flower power number as heard and hummed along to as it comes out the speakers of a Bakelite radio. It’s a hippy-happy sing-along and dances carefree and barefoot around and is quite delightful with it. Everything from The Beatles to Floyd lurks beneath it and you could quite imagine it being penned by the likes of Sandie Shaw back in the day; sublime. Heavier groove greats us on ‘The Rogue’s Lot’ which confidently strides off before loosely limbering away into soaring vocal clamour with a doom laden melodic weight behind it. Just when you thought you had escaped its flurry the flute pipes up again and leads us on the right merry dance of the pied piper adding an urgency and upbeat stomp to the music which will no doubt be countered by the thud of feet on the ground live. It’s the head that’s going to be banging along to the title track as it free-falls into a great groovy guitar jangle and drives away madly cantering around the flute as this feast of fools gets wilder and more debauched in behaviour. Some retro keyboard work does bring a touch of solemnity to proceedings but ultimately this is another one to sing along to as it’s enchantment spreads and captivates.
‘Half Moon Street’ has more of a dark acid-folk feel about it and makes you want to explore its cut-throat alleys and side-turns as you travel down it. A place full of mystery with a real natural grace about it, the flute and drum joust that you ultimately encounter is really rather delirious too. ‘The Weird of Finistere’ is the ballad of the album, designed to haunt and slowly ooze out like mist. It’s a moment of gentleness, and beauty and one that’s easy to breathe in and go with its flow. The track that’s going to cause the biggest surprise here, quite unlike anything the band have done before is ‘Flower Phantom’s the drums of which roll in with the song getting on a freak beat that reminds of a band like The Supremes or Martha Reeves And The Vandellas with a Phil Spector sounding production. I could also certainly see someone like Amy Winehouse doing this one too and surprise though it is it quickly establishes itself as one of the album’s highlights. With keys taking on shades of Deep Purple we are next led into ‘Old Fires’ to warm ourselves with solid grooves and witchy vocals. It’s down to some classic sounding acoustic guitar work on closer ‘Things Present, Things Past’ to blend together with some gentle flute and take us out. The song title is perfect as it exactly what the album has given us throughout, a trip through time and one that straddles decades. There’s plenty of individuality about each and every track here and Lord Of Misrule provides a wealth of ideas that are really enjoyable to listen to and dig beneath the layers. These are tales of exceptional mystery and imagination and it’s well worth opening the page and gazing into the magic within.
(8.5/10 Pete Woods)
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