Occulte fantastique

Having recovered from acute case of Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia - this constitutes review #666 - I'm in better position to hew and haw like a raving lunatic regarding Kentucky's Briton Rites and its long-awaited, yet refined and streamlined, sophomore album, Occulte Fantastique (no coy francophile-ism here, for once), under Georgia's Echoes of Crom Records, fine Southern purveyor of Russian power metal-ers BlackSword and local boys Cauldron Born.

Released over a month ago, not to mention full decade since 2010 Rosetta Stone For Mircalla, it's surprising nobody's taken a (non) pot shot at the masterfully produced, fifty-five minute long ogdoad, which falls ten short of said landmark, albeit rougher-around-the-edges (but no less hard-driving or exciting), debut. Immediately, once opener - and briefest track, by far - "The Masque Of Satan" takes sub-Earthen flight with Howie Bentley's kooky, pan-carnival-esque and Pentagram-like pentatonic riffing, soon joined by iconic frontman Phil Swanson's cavernously lugubrious, Gothic low/mid range chanting, listeners know they're in more of the same, arcane good stuff.

The diabolical chorus, as usual, is vintage doom metal manta. That said, I find it strange and somewhat unsettling everyone I've presented Occulte Fantastique to fully dug the musicianship, but found issue with Swanson (of Sumerlands reknown)'s vocals. Personally, I'd say they fit the music to a tee, and wouldn't settle for anything else. Plus, the production is rich and portentous, allowing the bass and drums to duly pack a punch, especially Corbin King's standardized double-kick bass drum, which works in wicked tandem with John Leeson's booming, loud-as-as-pack-of-Hell hounds bass playing. (Elevating, thusly, Briton Rites from humble trio to ham-boned quartet, since last inception, whence our civilization rode high).

In particular, the leads are as effervescent and "twisted-cool" as ever, readily bringing to mind a young Phil Cope of Britain's fondly revered graveyard ground-breaker Witchfinder General, from days of forlorn yore. Holy cannoli! In effect, top dog highlight follow-up "My Will Be Thine" kicks off with a downright deadly "No Stayer (On A Saturday Night)" type, esoterically rocking riff which will stop dedicated, died-in-Instanbul doom fans stone cold, in their tracks. It's that awesome, up there, say, with Pentagram's "Day of Reckoning" or "When The Screams Come". Indeed, the bass line, at around 04:35, succeeding yet further hair-raising storm of bluesy soloing fury, greatly reaches its apex, in similar stand-alone and leisurely caroming, Witchfinder G. style, before cruising return to Luciferian form.

Occulte Fantastique's first three songs represent pure doom perfection! The no-nonsense and pummelling line-drive rhythm to further A+ humdinger "In Hell I Will Rule" yields some of Bentley's most wild and crazed, kick-ass soloing, while the generally rampant flow comes across as sinuously sinister stew of Hour of 13 and Pentagram; I simply can't get enough of the killer part leading up to set of kinetically winded and fierce leads, upon which Leeson returns in full haymaking force with his rabidly shotgunned bass notes, cascading down like rain of un-dead minions...

Things take a bit of a chunkier, down-stepped, "classic doom" turn during the next three (which all exceed seven minutes), with Swanson's slightly falsetto wails nearing Ozzy territory, as steadier, more formulaic riffing takes charge, evoking, at times, Lord Vicar and/or Reverend Bizarre. This includes the Ogre-crunch momentum of "The Demon Lover", as well as poetically valiant (if not mildly subdued) "Strange But Beautiful", a roller-coaster of huge Sabbath-ian riffs and Tony Iommi-ish mannerisms further propagated by sluggishly slowed down and entrancing, "Into The Void" licks growing larger in the periscope, second by second. Again, I'm baffled by Swanson (dinner) detractors, as Phil's mesmerizing, spectral enunciation lends a true element of mystique and moribund flair, rival-ed by few, such as Black Sabbath, Cathedral, Electric Wizard, Internal/Iron Void, Northwinds, Pentagram, Saint Vitus, The Obsessed, Trouble, Vinnum Sabbathi and...Witchfinder General.

We're back in high gear, as soon as "The Witness" testifies i.e. hacks pates, yonder, juggling up tempos like a Barnum Circus lion tamer; we're also joyfully jumping though flaming hoops when Bentley unleashes a hell-storm of flash-frozen/stop-motion leads I guarantee instills desire to go beyond air-axe-ry, and pick up guitar playing after so many years of shy, youtube intimidated abeyance. Its slick, gallivanting return to gloomily jocular form, alongside wizened-as-fuck bass and "haut-de-forme" trampling drum beats, make it a (desiccated crypt) keeper, whilst bulldozing closer "Occulte Fantastique" balances it all out by taking the sludge-y, Millennial Pentagram route à la "Gorgon's Slave" or "Going In Circles (Reachin' For An End)". In other words, a deep bow on behalf of Briton Rites, quintessential doom metal band like no other.