Coven
Blood on the Snow

From "Witchcraft" (allow me the abbreviation) to "Blood on the Snow" is a bit like going from "The Conjuring" to "Little House on the Prairie." Certainly, those years haunted by the Manson family, the cult of the individual above all else, the ostentation of a satanism with a tangy grand guignol flavor were harbingers of great censorship. The axe of which must have inevitably fallen heavily on Coven and their foresight into an entire world. The gesture of the horns, the rites for Lucifer, the naked and bloodied woman, the inverted crosses, photo sets that Steve Sylvester surely admired, and the list goes on. And what comes out of it? A demon player on the cover, lyrics that are somewhat suggestive and somewhat not, and music that really, folks, really doesn't seem to be generated by the same band that had previously recorded a black mass on vinyl in their preceding album.

What remains here of the proto-doom, the occult rock, that hint of malicious psychdelia, of those orgiastic ritual sermons? Jinx’s voice, certainly. And then? Then the rest sounds like a perfect operetta for framing sweet memories, a Mormon ethic, a composed sense of fun. The feeling is of being in a bedroom wrapped in perfect '60s floral wallpaper (even though it's 1974), with a beautiful white wardrobe. It seems like the room of a well-mannered and delicate girl. But if you open the wardrobe, there’s Satan inside. No one mentions this about the album, and maybe it's just my suggestion. But "Blood on the Snow" is like appearances. Those appearances constructed on solid foundations of lies, and this is probably very diabolical. It's an album that sounds happy and content, with excellent pop rock music. It seems at times to border on banality in some passages, but when listened to closely, it’s not so. To me, listening to it with eyes closed unlocks the doors of an Allan Poe-like nightmare. "Blood on the Snow" is that family that goes to church on Sunday, admired by all, but within the four walls of the domestic hell shows its worst side. A seductive beauty at first glance for its simplicity, which harbors within itself the most macabre elements.

An evolution of the evil nestled within a record that perhaps wants to unleash more than the first. That "Witchcraft" which had unabashedly displayed the worship of the devil so theatrically that it could seem farcical. "Blood on the Snow" is a horror film where you never see the evil, but you always perceive it. And for this reason, in my opinion, it's an album worth listening to. Or maybe not, perhaps better not.