bewitcher

Portland satanic speedsters chug from the chalice of rock ‘n’ roll

There were countless reasons to be bummed about 2020. One of them was postponing the Decibel Metal & Beer Fest, where Portland hellions Bewitcher intended to rip it up for all us sinners at the official afterparty. But the momentum of breakthrough album Under the Witching Cross has not withered during the pandemic. After signing to Century Media, their label debut Cursed Be Thy Kingdom is a scaldinghot firebrand with satanic sizzle. It’s also a noticeable shift to embracing the classic metal and rock ‘n’ roll elements that have long lurked beneath their shroud of blackened thrash. ¶ “We all grew up listening to AC/DC and Guns [N’ Roses] and KISS and stuff,” shares vocalist/guitarist M. von Bewitcher, “So, we said, ‘Let’s make a rock record that just slams and kicks some ass.’ We’ve done the grimy, underground metal sound, and we always want to have that in the background and back of our minds. But we wanted to have that classic attitude for this one.” ¶ Cursed Be Thy Kingdom commences with a shimmer of guitar invoking the simmering heat of spaghetti westerns.

Picture the iconic image of Motörhead on the Ace of Spades cover, posing like frontier outlaws under a burning sun. The album embraces the seductive melodies and structures of heavy metal before it was diced and divided into hundreds of subgenres. It’s fitting that the album was mastered by Cameron Webb, who polished records from metallic royalty like Motörhead and Megadeth. While “Valley of the Ravens” reveals Bewitcher’s foray into balladry, rollicking cuts like “Satanic Magick Attack” and “Sign of the Wolf” are still supercharged with an element that’s taboo in some extreme metal circles: fun.

“Fun has always been a word people use to describe us,” von Bewitcher states. “That wasn’t the point to begin with, but it’s become our thing. We obviously have fun doing this—why do it if it’s not fun? But if that comes through in the music and people have that feeling when they listen to it, that’s cool with me. We’re just trying to recreate the feeling and danger for other people that the bands we listened to gave to us.”

From the sinister cover painting by Paolo Girardi to the scythesweeping solos, Cursed Be Thy Kingdom sustains a sense of dangerous grandeur. Working with a major label hasn’t dulled the band’s sharpened hooks or DIY ethos. Because the devil is in the details, Bewitcher’s songwriting just incorporates a wider variety of textures on this record. From their exuberant tempos to their snarl-along choruses, they still embody satanism that smirks instead of scowls.

“It’s not like we’re up there trying to convince people we’re evil or whatever,” von Bewitcher laughs. “I don’t think people expect us to be like Watain in a dungeon, worshipping the devil and shit.”