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Orange Goblin ARE british metal. They�ve been slaving their arses of for over a decade in the name of booze, birds and uh, blue snow. As such, they require no flamboyant introduction; suffice to say you if you�re a new comer prepare to have your skull crushed by distorted auditory violence.
Doom laden thunder and rain summon Orange Goblin�s fifth opus, which manifests as their dirtiest slab of aural grooves to date. Raw, coarse and at all times cranked up to fuse blowing levels, this is heavy metal played by veterans of the underground with such passion and clout that it threatens to burst out of the sewers and cascade down the streets of London. which ZZ Top after the nastiest, night with a sick hangover blasting out loud enough to drown out their migranes.
Martin�s thundering bass sets off Vagrant Stomp, which waits for a harmony filled chorus followed swiftly by Joe Hoare�s blues infused solo wizardry. Expect the air in the pit to be filled with as much spilled beer as sweat when this one blasts through the Underworld�s PA.
Cities of Frost is as dark as Goblin tracks come. One repeating chord ushers in the blackest night, and hyptotic riffage in what will be a live favourite. Walking riffs guide us into the Hot Knives, a beast which reveals a combined love for The Allman Brothers, Sabbath and horror b-movies; all uniting into a thunderous cacophony of doom which will keep small children awake, wide eyed with terror for weeks.
Orange goblin are a proper metal band; as such they don�t do �singles�. If they did however, Hounds Ditch would slaughter the charts, disembowelling re hashed reality tv stars, stomping on the face of 80�s dance remixes and sending indie haircut lads cowering into the corner as they soiled themselves A shame then that we probably won�t see one anytime soon.
Whether Mortlake is intended as a possible soundtrack for the next time you visit its sole landmark, the Crematorium; the haunting acoustic melodies will certainly sober up the rowdiest of fans, though is could have benefited from being the perfect finale track instead of the introduction to the carnage that comes next.
And what does happen next is They Come Back; classic, pure Goblin to the core. Tom thumping drums, searing riffs and pounding bass, and a riff catchier than the black death that smashes through the speakers. Since the boys have finally been given the chance to play Download festival this year, I�ve a feeling this song will invoke the largest mass head banging session the world has ever seen. Quick, someone call Guinness.
This is a truly British metal album. Ale House Braves is obvious testament to this, deafeningly loud, menacing and raw; in other words Goblin at their very best; dark, brewed from pure stock, and leaving you with a stinking headache the morning after.
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