Year Of Metal #015: Pagan Altar - Lords Of Hypocrisy
Next on the agenda is a trip to some true old school. Pagan Altar formed in the early ‘80s as part of the UK’s new wave of metal, but threw directly back to Black Sabbath with their brand of folk horror-influenced doom. This 2004 sophomore effort (though essentially a restart, their first coming in 1982) bows to no trends at all. It feels like the real deal - lumbering, hypnotic, and just a little bit (charmingly) amateurish.
It’s not the heaviest record I’ve ever heard, but they can lock into a groove fantastically. Closer “March Of The Dead” is perhaps the most straightforward stomper on offer. A nice crisp riff rolls over as harmonised vocals preach in a vaguely Satanic fashion and a freewheeling bluesy guitar fills in the gaps. In its nods to Delta music, it’s a particularly British album, taking cues from Cream and John Mayall as much as the metal bands of the late 20th century.
“The Aftermath” is another great swaggering track. The late Terry Jones has shades of Ozzy Osbourne and Neil Young in his vocals, and that reedy quality works like gangbusters for the playfully sinister material. You can picture him bedecked in robes or tormenting Edward Woodward as these tracks unfold. The lead guitar work is always complimentary, too. As commandeered by Terry’s son Alan (cute!), it plays off the occasional atonality and backgrounding of the vocals by taking a free role, showy but always melodic.
They’ve also got scope for some sprawling numbers that are more progressive than some of the doom I’ve been listening to. “Armageddon” begins with some acoustic picking that sounds like a tune from Mario 64 and an anti-war message before launching into a somewhat jumbled classic rock sound. It overstays its welcome at over 10 minutes, but it’s cool that they’re trying something like this, not to mention writing songs with a point to them.
Better is “Sentinels Of Hate”, which opens on spooky form with a clanging bell and a sitar-like arpeggio. This time they build to some of the most soaring and dramatic stuff on the record, with fantastic harmonised vocals and a surprising shuffling drum pattern. The relative complexity serves to up the drama big time, and it might be the best production on Lords Of Hypocrisy, every part clear and in its right place.
I got a great deal of enjoyment from this bizarre, charming, almost iconoclastic record. It’s undoubtedly the sound of some dudes with guitars, stuck in their ways and stomping around. That would be enough to put a smile on my face alone, but they’ve come out the other side with a lot of cracking tunes, too.
