Horda Goga

I’ve always liked Dragon. Obscure Polish thrash raped by nearby German wrath, yet smartly fondled by light Bay Area elaborative frash. No, not a description that lifts off winged with originality, but such is the lifeforce of the band at this particular time in their pretty unfamiliar course of life. In other words, the traditional thrash that transpires on Horde of Gog a.k.a. Horda Goga is a one shot deal, but logically speaking it’s really the only shot it had. Like many others, it takes thrash’s two most popular regions, excavates the earth in-between, and forces the landmasses together like a reverse earthquake – not a rare occurrence and fairly anticipated by the end of the decade. I mean, if a band from Poland with roots dating back to ’86 was going to siphon thrash inspiration from somewhere, it wasn’t gonna be from the Ukraine with an Algerian afterglow…hmph, that could turn out quite interesting, actually.

At this point Dragon is still a foursome dragging its ragged claws through some mid/late ‘80s splits with countrymates Wolf Spider, Stos, and Destroyers, all of whom cracked ground with ’89 debuts that singly and/or collectively failed to dent the scene’s paint job, though it is my conjecture that of the four, Horde of Gog gave it the most conspicuous gash.

From many angles, most of this album is pretty straightforward thrash, underpriced with a production that’s a little on the shallow/flimsy/hollow side, one that’s worthy of any early Cogumelo deed, but of course this was natural in the inexpensive mixing morass of the underground. That’s alright though, ‘cos Dragon spills its unsure ability all over this lp, its official first chapter, and during the book’s time of drying it soaks up enough Teutonic-inspired aggression, late ‘80s melodic fluency, and bits of bravely oddball exploration to stay moist in the middle, and even some unanticipated benevolence has been sucked into the shuffle.

About 90% of the time lungman Marek Wojcieski wields a jaggedly scathing style, maroon with rust and fairly Schmier-like even during wails that decorate some of the verses’ ends. Warped by his natural Polish enunciation, blocks of lyrics rip with even more evil swagger, and the rolling of the tongue, like in “Armagedon” (or “Arrrrmagedone”), is not as humorous as it is authentic. The remaining fraction, as heard toward the end of “Wieczne Odpoczywanie” and some smaller places, is nobly clean verging on haughty, kinda funny and impractical, but still a useful distraction.

Speed and melody dance these nine songs together. It’s an up ‘n down, volatile dance, but they manage to anticipate each others' movements pretty well. Speed leads, but melody doesn’t have much problem making its intentions known. Overall, the drive train powering this disc revs above the standard and is usually catchy and respectfully acceptable.

There are two slants, however, that may be more interesting of Dragon’s fairly rubber stamped domain. One is their conscious effort to cavort with acoustics. Folksy elegance slides into the record’s second side almost exclusively, charming the wordless ditty “Cerveza”, vicious “Armagedon”, and alma mater “Here Comes the Dragon” with contradictory moods that just aren’t in your basic thrash recipe, at least not to this extent. In more isolated events, “Wieczne Odpoczywanie” and the latter two tracks, especially “Armagedon”, can raise heroic banners overhead for a Manowarian, soldier war chant-type of bravado you seldom hear within this style even by ’89. It’s this kind of stuff that can appeal to a thrasher’s more exploratory side or turn him to run. Dragon gave it a shot and, in my opinion, if it weren’t for these unexpected idiosyncrasies raising the bar, Horde of Gog would’ve simply waved a more average flag.

Within the next year, the band’s foundation is torn asunder, but from its smoking cinders rises a puzzled/ing, rhythmically-entangled fallen angel, and that’s to say the least.