Danzig
Danzig II: Lucifuge

THE REVIEW

It would be enough just to read the first sentence of the booklet or take a look at the photo on the next page to understand what kind of monstrous beast we are facing. The verse in question is from St. John and reads, "You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father."

Glenn Danzig (unforgettable voice of the Misfits), after concluding his adventure with Samhain in 1986, created a super-ensemble that would take his own name. The other members were John Christ on guitar, Eerie Von (Rosemary's Babies) on bass, and former DOA, Black Flag, and Fear Chuck Biscuits on drums. The raven from New Jersey raises the stakes, amplifying the malevolent aura around his figure by blending various stereotypes of rock history.

The album in question is their second work, following two years after their debut album "DANZIG" of 1988. The writer believes that the two albums are equivalent in every respect, even though "LUCIFUGE" includes ballads like Devil's plaything and Blood and tears, as well as the old-fashioned blues of I'm the one, which makes it even more precious.

It starts off explosively with Long way back from hell. Right away, the air is charged with a scorching hard riff that accelerates into a punk fury in no time. It seems like the start of a track by Judas Priest, but just Glenn Danzig's memorable entrance would be enough to send shivers down the spine of Halford & Co. A compelling hard-rockabilly that appropriately opens a masterpiece album. It is followed by Snake of Christ, and the pace slows while the voice becomes darker. Much heavier and more obsessive than the previous track, it brings out the group's metal soul. Killer wolf is the first blues hint. You start to feel the Delta and Glenn's mojo-clad vocation (as he will also do in the classic I'm the one, wading through Muddy Waters' swampy scenes as Hooker's Boom Boom echoes). Here, the references to the hard blues of the previous decade are abundant (ZZ Top, MC5, Mountain, and so on).

In Tired to be alive, Girl, and Her black wings, Christ brings to mind the powerful guitar riffs of the old Page and Yommi, while a shamanic shadow envelops Devil's plaything and Blood and tears, which are more than evident tributes to the Doors. Glenn tries his hand at baritone vocals reminiscent of Morrison's Blue Sunday, Summer's almost gone, and Riders on the storm, then explodes in a way only he knows how, marking a clear vocal difference from the Lizard King. Two unforgettable, cathartic, and moving tracks.

777 is a slide blues capable of dragging a freight train across the Nevada desert. With a heart-pounding guitar, it feels like witnessing a train heist typical of Western cinema or hearing the legendary music from John Carpenter's films Big Trouble in Little China and They Live. The album closes with Pain in the world, and we're back to Sabbath, but this time the more atmospheric and psychedelic side (like Black Sabbath, Planet Caravan, or Hand of Doom) is revisited, instilling a terrible sense of anguish in the listener.

A powerful album that leaves its mark. I would not recommend listening to it before going to sleep, given its whispered horror in your ears. The perfect reinterpretation of a decade by people who still reeked of punk rock, hardcore, and thrash in 1990, and enjoyed recalling the childhood lullabies of an empty generation.