Samhain
Initium

THE REVIEW

Samhain represents the dark link between Glenn Danzig, the front-man of the legendary Misfits, and Glenn Danzig, the solo artist. On one side, the man who helped write true anthems of punk culture like "Attitude", "Halloween", "Skulls", and "Last Caress"; on the other, the author of the mephistophelean rock of which "Mother", "Am I Demon", "Snakes of Christ", and "Dirty Black Summer" are valid examples. In the Samhain experience, these two apparently irreconcilable souls seem to coexist, and while it's true that the sounds remain essentially anchored to the punk of their beginnings, the presence of the obsessions and dark visions that will characterize this controversial artist's future career is undeniable, even if still in embryonic form.

Having left the Misfits, Danzig essentially continued their discourse but unconsciously seemed to already want to probe and indulge the negative energies of his overflowing ego. After recruiting drummer Steve Zing and bassist Eerie Von, the corpulent singer, also taking on guitar duties as well as writing lyrics and music, founded Samhain, to be seen, in their very brief life (only two albums to their credit, this one and the following "November-Coming Fire", barring a useless reunion at the end of the nineties), as the antechamber of his solo career.

Opening the twenty-six terse minutes of this "Initium", released in 1984 and called to represent Danzig's artistic rebirth, is a disturbing introduction in which the singer's ungraceful voice, amidst gusts of wind and infernal noises, reels off apocalyptic verses and dark invocations, foreshadowing an imminent end. Then comes the title track, which well represents the album's content: a murky and threatening punk with slight Sabbathian overtones, supported by deadly mid-tempos and animated by the singer's crude bellowing, still far from the Morrisonian shores he will embrace with extreme conviction in the future.

There will certainly be instances of rambunctious and jolly rock'n'roll in typical Misfits style, such as "Black Dream", "All Murder, All Guts, All Fun", "He-who-can-not-be-named", and "Horror Biz." But there will also be opportunities to sample some novelties, and I'm talking about tracks that, while still generally adhering to classic punk canons, carry an atmosphere tense and morbid, absolutely foreign to the genre, where tempos slow, and the guitar weaves obsessive patterns ("Macabre", complete with cowbells, damned choirs, and Glenn's Ossianic screams, is the most perfect example).

The most interesting surprises, however, are reserved for the finale, where, in my opinion, with satisfactory results, there's a collision with the dark universe: "The Shift", slow in its progress, quite reminiscent of what Joy Division did in "Closer", while "The Howl" adopts the tribal and impetuous pace of Bauhaus's "In the Flat Field". The concluding "Archangel", finally, seems to echo the Cure's "Boys Don't Cry". All naturally seasoned with the devilish Elvis-like screams of the good Danzig.

It's needless to add that the level of technical proficiency is close to zero (although, I must say, the tracks, despite being simple, are extremely effective in their rawness) and that the sound is as sparse and unripe as few others. But perhaps right here lies the charm of the work: Samhain's primordial punk is timeless, it doesn't seem to come from a shabby basement but directly from the depths of Hell (and the grim cover, distant in its rawness from the cartoonish attitude of the Misfits, only confirms this!). Something totally foreign to the style and themes that characterize the genre, and which vaguely (very vaguely) could be compared to the death-rock of Christian Death. Well aware that Danzig is neither Rozz Williams nor, much less, Ian Curtis or Robert Smith.

Frankly, it seems pointless to waste more words on this formation, which certainly hasn't changed the history of music and may only reveal real interest to the most completist fans of Danzig and, of course, to all lovers of the Misfits' horror punk.