And there will be a night when the rubber scarecrows of cheap horror movies will come to life and the ketchup will turn to blood. And the screenwriters, brilliant in their stupidity, will crawl out of graves and forgotten motels, and the faces of waiters on Sunset Boulevard will be distorted by Bela Lugosi’s grimaces. Witches on Korean vacuum cleaners will fly to Bald Mountain, where the glare of bonfires plays on the bald skull of their Leader. One night a year, the comic horror of morbid fantasies is allowed to take on flesh and children in bandages and robes go scouring the streets in search of licorice sacrifices, while their older sisters plaster their pubescent faces with grave clay and rush into clouds of glycerine smoke. There, the sons of brilliantly stupid screenwriters are comically screaming from the stage, shaking their manes.
And only one person (is it human?) He knows a lot about terribly cheerful music. He is the Father of our favorite nightmares. His name is Paul Finek, his recordings are a mass that is always with you, his guitar is his guitar, please don’t touch it with half-rotted stumps. For more than forty years, his camarilla, The Meteors, has been lighting the way to a Country from Which There is No Return. And while the former comrades-in-arms turn into traveling cats, Papa Pasha manages to drop solo albums. Fresh as the inquisitor’s breath, the opus is called Demon Seed Rising (2022) – The Demonic Seed is Sprouting, although it obviously sprouted a long time ago. May he who has ears not eaten by rats hear!
Demon Seed Rising is a mental and instrumental title piece for the mewing “fender”, filled with sadness over the difficult fates of the maturing Antichrists. It will seem sincere to those who have not yet sold their soul. Nameless Song (For The Nameless One) is a high-speed prayer to the Nameless, framed by a funeral bell and a brass section. “Forever yours,” Finek admits to the lyrical horned anonymous.
Witchburner – a menacing rhythm permeated by a guitar screeching with Salem voices; curses against medieval pyromaniacs. Not Enough Time (To Say How Much I Hate You) is a great soundtrack to an unreleased western about troubled cowboys. A manifesto of hatred with a bouncing double bass.
Planet Of The Brain Eaters is an anti-science fiction twist in an intergalactic arrangement. Don’t be alarmed, dear listener, the alien brain eaters won’t have time to get to you, there are plenty of hunters for the gray treat on Earth without them. Roll The Dice is a typical Daddy Finek action movie about a cast of lots.
Himhog (The Devil’s Tango) is a Latin American delicacy with a Georgian flavor. Astor Piazzola runs through the remains of his fingers in search of a bandoneon. Tango is a pair dance, invite the devil. Between The Light is an insinuating narration from the perspective of creatures observed with peripheral vision in the wavering candlelight. This is important for territories with unstable electricity supply.
Goblin Bones is a trance-inducing banjo riff and a fabulous atmosphere. Jim Hanson’s mangled dolls bleed with glue in the Goblin Maze. One Last Nail is a cheeky boogie about the everyday life of funeral home employees.
Juju Queen is dedicated to the swamp voodoo queen and in other hands, it might have become a ballad. But this gumbo has a different recipe: zombies, alligators, zombie alligators, toad reverberation. Eye Of The Crow – dusty gothic with ghoul keys. Edgar croaked: gimme more!
Time To Lose Your Mind is a neuropathological swing for patients before, after, during and instead of lobotomy. They won’t cure you or me anymore. Rattle My Bones is a real rockabilly for those who have been dug shallow and recently.
The White Room is an unexpectedly soft version of a 1968 Cream song featuring a surf guitar and guest vocalists. Sleep is now in a mental hospital. Cold Cold Ground completes the “graveyard” trilogy featured on the album with the songs One Last Nail and Rattle My Bones. It seems that the gravedigger is the most broken and life-affirming profession in the United Kingdom.
The Worst Thing In The World is filled with the bubbling of test tubes with homunculi, burps of Frankensteinoids, Dr. Caligari’s electric organ, and other arranging finds. The best thing in the (other) world. Where The Damned Dwell is the wordless final. Another cowboy movie, death-defying and scalping. The heroes ride off into the sunset on half-rotted nags, glowing with bullet holes.
For thirty years now, Daddy Finek has been releasing records under his own name, which he fills with material that is too marginal for The Meteors. For those who are aware, Demon Seed Rising will not be a revelation, but it will not disappoint either – the Old Horse runs through the furrow with the relentlessness of a hearse. Eighteen psychobilly horror stories will fill the nightmares of exhausted fans with new content. Autumn wings rustle outside the window, cook garlic, Moon Dogs!
