Blue Oyster Cult? On Ave Noctum, home of all heavy, dark and nasty? That ‘(Don’t Fear) The Reaper’ lot? Shurely shome mishtake….
Nope. Not in the slightest. To be blunt if you don’t get it take a look at your favourite bands and I’ll bet you way more than you realise are fans. Like Warrior Soul, there are a lot more Blue Oyster Cult fans around than you thought. A lot more. And they still draw fine crowds live. And rock like bastards, even if they look a little like retired accountants these days.
There was also a query once floated my way that if they are so good, why does no one ever cover their songs? Well I suspect the answer is two words: Buck Dharma. Probably the most massively underrated guitarist of his generation (and probably a couple of other generations too). Sometimes, some days, his stuff is just off the goddamned scale.
But. Big but. They may be getting the kudos they deserve from some bands these days. But. Blue Oyster Cult fans have had to be a resilient bunch; we’ve endured albums like Mirrors, Some Enchanted Evening and Curse Of The Hidden Mirror (their last studio album in 2001!) and a twenty year break. Twenty-two since their last great album.
Yep, hand trembling as I hit play.
And then ‘That Was Me’ punched right back. This is downtuned rumbling Blue Oyster Cult at its finest. Dirty blues, choppy riffing, driving beat. Eric Bloom snarling away, his voice, though aged, as cynical and dark as ever as he lists his misdeeds and missteps and one of those classic, beautiful BOC refrains. They just have this knack for slightly sinister, slightly melancholy melody like no one else. Ok… One more good track and it’s an improvement on ‘Curs…’…
‘Box In My Head’. Oh…. Wow. Immediately it’s one of those hairs on the arm moments. Buck Dharma’s more gentle vocals as the melancholy melody lightly dances on your soul. Some beautifully picked notes. The lyrics are clear as ever, strange as ever, unlocking skulls as smoothly bas emotions. A love song as only they can do. Mesmerising. ‘Tainted Blood’ brings us vampires, or metaphors. Or both as this is Blue Oyster Cult. Seemingly soft rock but every time it climbs to the chorus and transcends that, and then the first proper lead break just to crown it.
The production here has to be commended. It is clear and bright, letting the energy crackle from it. But when they drop down or highlight the bass there is a wonderful bit of grit in the machine too. On ‘Nightmare Epiphany’ it works so well, letting the bounce and the jazzy two step fill the air with just a huge grin. The lyrics are pure BOC, delivered in machine gun rapid narration, the tale spinning out as fresh as forty five years ago. We get an almost rockabilly bass pushing in now and then, and the lead breaks are just glorious dancing little trills doing steps for fun that would break a mere mortal’s ankles. This live will be utterly joyous and on record it is simply beautiful.
Time to get heavier with ‘Edge Of The Word’. Watching the world burn. Dancing in the ruins maybe…? ‘The Machine’ is ok, again great guitar work keeping the album surging ahead. ‘Train True (Lennie’s Song)’ on the other hand is BOC doing their fantastic booooooogie. Ah again live this great blues workout will just be a beer-swilling-dance-like-a-fool-who-cares-about-your-age joy. Wonderful.
From the title alone, you just know that ‘The Return Of St Cecilia’ has to be classic cynical snide BOC. So self-assured, flipping tempos and from metal to blues with less than a breath, organ setting a sinister tone but the guitar and hyperactive riff jolting electricity through it. A refrain that can’t help but remind you of a sped up version of ‘Quicklime Girl’. A music flip off to the eponymous lady.
‘Stand And Fight’ is an odd little stomp of a song, a chugging, squealing almost ponderous metal riff. But entirely normal compared to ‘Florida Man’. This comes from the same kind of place as some of the less successful songs on the not-good Mirrors. A tale of Conquistadors it seems, and drug dealers but with an almost lounge music chorus tied to a sombre verse. Not sure, if I’m honest….
‘The Alchemist’ is a longish, kinda wordy affair. All dramatic fantasy with a gruff riff, a lead break with swift dexterous fingers bringing it to life beautifully. ‘Secret Road’ with its languid pace, and fluid melody plus one of BOC’s greatest weapons in their backing vocals transcends its simple nature into a lovely, introspective moment. ‘There’s A Crime’ is another bit of driving rock, Ok in its way but against the competition it’s a little passive despite some intriguing lyrics.
And talking of ambiguity, mystery and sideways looks the closer ‘Fight’ is perhaps what Blue Oyster Cult do best. “It wasn’t that much of a fight…” they tell us as layers of obscurity hide what it was. Just the odd insinuation. ” It wasn’t that much fun… ” with an insistent melody, “All stones left unturned, no bridges burned…”
“The last one turned out the light.”
That is the last word, the perfect end to a genuinely excellent Blue Oyster Cult album. They leave you with an enigma, the itching question… The feeling that something quite wrong has happened right before your eyes and, yet, somehow you didn’t quite see what it was.
Masters of the sinister in the corners of the bar and the closed door, purveyors of dark fantasy running parallel to morality tales of the real world where the morality is twisted and cynical. Melodies to die for, melancholy to yearn for and musicianship to kill for. Wilful, self possessed, supremely influential and with this they simply prove that this fire still smoulders unnervingly bright.
The symbol remains indeed, on tour forever. Welcome back to the cult; now on your feet or on your goddamned knees, pretenders.
(9/10 Gizmo)
11/12/2020 at 12:11 am
My better half’s insistence that I didn’t buy this album for myself meant I had to wait for my birthday and miss out on a couple of weeks of playing this superlative album. It may have been nearly 2 decades since the last new BOC album, but they have returned with all guns blazing, a combination of the classic and the cutting edge that bands with a mere fraction of their time on tour could even dream of. Giz, great review; BOC, even greater album!