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Slough Feg - Animal Spirits![]() ![]() Who bears the mark of the Beast? The Lord Weird Slough Feg’s managed eight full-lengths over its two-decade existence. Built on sci-fi mythos, crypto-zoological aberration—borderline supra-weirdo fascination with apes and cats and worlds known and unknown—all efforts have been good and really mostly great and often utterly brilliant while remaining totally goddamn insular (and therefore extremely unhip) is all anyone needs to coerce a few do-nothings into an evening of chips, beer, and “Lycanthropic Fantasies.” Extensive line-up changes did little to derail Slough Feg’s core sound, which was/is well retained and even fantastically embellished. Said sound is precious and formidable, naïve and worldly, at once close and vast as any pick of primordial canyon. Lot of the credit lies with vocalist/guitarist and Heavy Metal standard bearer, Mike Scalzi, who’s even taken up The Cause with provocative series of Heavy Metal prolegomena hosted by, of all places, “The Metal Blog” Invisible Oranges. When Scalzi’s not regaling nameless, faceless many with tales from this side of Authenticity, he’s singing/shredding his ass off. That his performance ranks with the lot of supercharged museum artifacts (mid-period Deep Purple [viz., In Rock and Fireball], Dio-fronted Sabbath, and Di’Anno-fronted Maiden) should be no shocker to anyone with even limited experience with the band. Scalzi’s charisma and emotional investment in the music is part and parcel to what-it-is-to-be Metal. Purple, Maiden, and Sabbath in earlier and Ozzy-less incarnations knew this. Their vocalists served as filters, separating undesirable element(s) from what was necessary—true, essential substance. Singers did more than sing; they built aesthetic systems; hearers heard songs not only as construction verse/chorus/verse, but also as statements about living Metal—perhaps humanly impossible to “do” (with exceptions few, Lemmy Kilmister, or not even Metal at all, Keith Richards). Mortality and responsibilities aside, most settled hopelessly with pure aspiration: weekend warriors at stage’s front, neck gone jelly, fists forever in air. No surprise The Animal Spirits, like all Slough Feg’s prior efforts, is an unabashed and passionate embrace of Heavy Metal song-craft in its most base and unadulterated form. Songs could’ve been sung tone-fucking-deaf on clipper decks hundreds of years ago by grog-sucking saltdogs. They could’ve been chirped ‘n’ bleeped on undiscovered moon faces by molluskean beings dreamed into being by Michael Moorcock’s more inchoate work. That they’re not makes them even more curious, crafted by men utterly bereft of irony, empowered by the same whatsis that compels Scalzi to question the value of “extreme Metal” and those that fall hook/line/sinker for an industry thrilled to pimp all-form-no-content recordings for an audience entranced by quirks and gimmicks and impoverished mimicry of work utterly exponentially—and existentially—greater. Out of the frying pan, into the friar, these tunes come relentlessly, slowing only to goad tankard-in-air sing-a-long, quickening even before hoppy suds dry upon littered floor. Riffs and leads fucking abound. It’s a pickem between what works “best.” It’s all good, too good, recalling a new encyclopedic grasp of WHAT REALLY WORKS with strings and wood and electricity, a sort of mind-altering gloss of Mark Shelton ‘n’ Dave Murray songbooks that doesn’t ape or quote or tongue-‘n’-cheek, but simply honors and upholds, respect as starting point numero uno with an end indefinite and hopefully a lifetime away. [Stewart Voegtlin]
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It's been interesting the Invisible Oranges articles and the replies to them. I see a clear (though not untroubled) lineage from Heavy Metal to the various forms that are now called 'extreme metal' and I'm trying to connect the dots on my blog. I find songcraft, though unorthodox, in a lot that M. Scalzi proclaims to be tuneless. They're few and far in between, extreme metal bands with songs, as few and far in between there were 80's metal bands who had not only songs but a worldview to support them, where an entity is summoned. If there's any impoverishment of metal music over time it is in the realm of spirit and cosmology, not so much in the lack of coherent songwriting in my opinion.
It was a hopeful thing to see so many people respond to those articles and in articulated ways. It seems the readers need a figure of authority to question them in this way before they're willing to risk an informed reply, however.
Scalzi's IO work initiated the norm of "butthurt" and then the "WTF Bro It's Just Music," but then folks worked at his text and tried to understand his point(s) and how they may or may not be applicable to their lives and experience with Heavy Metal.
I can relate maybe too well to what Scalzi's dishing out, but I know I'm not going to be any happier sitting inside all day and continually queuing up AC/DC's High Voltage.
Whatever your opinion on Invisible Oranges, I think we'd agree that providing a forum for such a discussion as the one occurring around M. Scalzi's articles is a very welcome thing. It can be taken as a sign that there might be a movement towards more meaningful appreciation and understanding of loud music when something like this happens not on some obscure fanzine but on one of the popular metal music blogs.
Traveller is my fave probably 'cause it's the first one I heard --- thanks to Pat D. who saw TLWSF and declared, "I feel like such a pose."
ADD: Sounds great. Sclazi is a funny dude. A young Steve Martin with a lot of time in the gym. Wish they would come down South.
There is no nature vs. nuture. It's all of the above.
I needs to buy me some slough feg albums.