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Rating: In the fragmented and confused metal scene of the '90s, Skyclad's offering always represented a guarantee of quality and coherence with a unique style, unmatched and, if I may say, inimitable.
Their music, a successful blend of folk and metal, although firmly anchored in heavy tradition, showed us a band that was highly original, capable, and never banal, able to mature from album to album and evolve without ever betraying its roots.
Surely, the mix of folk and rock was nothing new (impossible not to mention Jethro Tull, Thin Lizzy, and, why not, the "Celtic" Gary Moore), but even if our friends were not the inventors of so-called "folk metal," they certainly represent its flag bearers.
The band, still led by the charismatic Martin Walkyier (former Sabbat and now at the court of the lesser-known Hell), as prolific as few, arrives in '96 at its sixth album, "Irrational Anthems," to this day perhaps their most balanced and complete work.
Opening the dances (in every sense!) is "Inequality Street", one of the emblematic tracks of the Newcastle group, a perfect summary of their style, with a very catchy violin line in the foreground by the charming Georgina Biddle (here still credited as George Biddle, although she is clearly visible in photos...). On the same coordinates are the very amusing (musically speaking; the lyrics instead often show bitter and sharp sarcasm) "Penny Dreadful" and "History Lessens". Definitely more heavy is "The Wrong Song", perfectly immersed in the reality of the '90s, and the splendid "I Dubious", which opens with a delicate piano line before exploding into a furious thrash song (in triple time!) always embellished by Georgina Biddle's violin (she also takes care of the piano and keyboard parts). Notable also is the dark "The Sinful Ensemble" and the instrumental "Sabre Dance", a metal version of the famous "Dance of the Sabres".
The work of guitarist Steve Ramsey and bassist Graeme English is precise and never over the top, which the most attentive of you will remember (among others) both in Satan, a cult band of the N.W.O.B.H.M, while it's worth emphasizing once again Martin Walkyier's ability both in composing never ordinary lyrics rich with amusing wordplay (but not light in content) and in modulating his voice, now cavernous and almost guttural (but always melodic) now clean and at times evocative. The album closes with "Quantity Time", an atypical dreamy and melancholy ballad supported by a distorted arpeggio by Steve Ramsey.
With this album, even as Skyclad distances themselves somewhat from the heavy thrash influences of their origins, they maintain their grit intact, integrating the violin parts and folk atmospheres more effectively than ever, always a characteristic of the group. An another excellent work that unfortunately went almost unnoticed, especially here in Italy. And here I cannot refrain from criticizing the Italian specialized press which (if someone can prove me wrong, I will be happy) has never dedicated a cover to Martin and his (mis)adventure companions.
Another bad break - burst another bubble
Another lost cause - here's another trouble
Another heart ache - one more chance gone
Another lost chord in yet another wrong song.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
03 Snake Charming (04:04)
You'll meet his kind in the strangest of places,
great what you find if you turn enough stones.
Legerdmain eyes wear the sweetest of faces -
you're quick to invite into your hearts and homes.
But the serpent and worms are his real kith and kin,
reptilian hiding inside human skin.
Snake Charming.
Horns start to show with the thrill of the slaughter,
true to his nature to others he's false.
Mothers should lock up their blossoming daughters -
he'll rape anything that has limbs and a pulse.
A bastard - a blaggard of the highest order,
his mind should be washed with soap and holy water.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
It is never too late to be charming -
the Snake Charming.
The moment I strike - just when you think I'll kiss,
no good in a fight - I just wriggle and hiss.
A friend of bistiction with eyes that decieve,
I am the serpent - won't you be my Eve?
He's constantly searching (his eyes won't stay still) for,
something thats worth thirty pieces of silver.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
It is never too late to be charming -
the Snake Charming.
He's welcome as Death at your wedding reception,
defying rejection - uninvited guest.
One foot in your door then both legs 'neath your table,
sly as a viper - your bossom his nest.
Creep like a sneak thief - snake through the grass,
to kiss Cleopatra - a pain in the asp.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
Charming, the snake.
It is never too late to be charming -
the Snake Charming.
04 Penny Dreadful (03:08)
Forgive me if I'm out of order -
this new "music" has no soul.
It may be good for making money,
(sadly that is not my goal).
Integrity and honesty are words that you don't understand,
but you're the best - it says so in the penny dreadful in your hand.
I saw you in the magazine,
they're calling you messiah.
They must be living in a dream -
they couldn't be more wrong.
If we'd played this riff more punk,
than may be we'd have had a million seller.
But this piper's tune is not for sale,
(I'm glad to say I'm not that kind of fella).
D.J.s, V.J.s, pimps and trollops,
never mind music - this is bollocks.
I saw you in the magazine,
they're calling you messiah.
They must be living in a dream -
they couldn't be more wrong.
Turn on, tune up, cash in, sell out.
Turn on, tune up, cash in, sell out.
Stand your ground behind the times -
and refuse to follow fassion.
Write your poetry with anger,
(and then sing it with a passion).
Painted faces in a circus - images that spring to mind,
when I read my penny dreadful filled with pictures of your kind.
I saw you in the magazine,
they're calling you messiah.
They must be living in a dream -
they couldn't be more wrong.
Commercial suicide's appealing after
ten years on this losing streak.
'Cause I'd rather be called sour and bitter
then be deemed the flavour of the week.
I saw you in the magazine,
they're calling you messiah.
They must be living in a dream -
they couldn't be more wrong.
Extra, extra, read all about it!
I saw you in the magazine,
they're calling you messiah.
They must be living in a dream -
they couldn't be more wrong.
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