Black Night

While elements such as skill and talent should not be discounted, becoming a trailblazer seems more a matter of timing than anything else. This is perhaps no less apparent than in the case of one of the American doom metal scene's unsung heroes and stylistic answer to Tony Iommi in Alfred Morris III. In every sense, this recently departed guitar hero was one of America's best kept secrets, and one who's career goes back about as far as the earliest incarnations of what would become said nation's early traditional doom pioneers The Obsessed and Saint Vitus when considering his prior band Force/Rat Salad. In light of this, his somewhat derivative and highly conservative approach as both a songwriter and a lead guitarist makes a great degree of sense, leaning far closer to the early to mid 70s work of Black Sabbath and carrying a muddy production character highly conducive to the sound heard on Master Of Reality and also the eponymous debut out of Budgie. Nevertheless, despite toiling around in the underground since 1976 at the age of 19, his craft wouldn't come to full fruition until the start of his last band Iron Man, at a time when doom metal of this variety was considered passe despite the ongoing careers of several prominent bands.

In the context of 1993, with the burgeoning stoner metal offshoot of this style taking off and the death/doom craze in full swing, Black Night stands as arguably one of the most blatant expressions of stylistic conservatism possible. This project's roots as a Sabbath tribute band are noticeable to a fault as familiar territory is explored at every possible facet, though in a way that clearly marks the disconnect between traditionalism and the subject of emulation. If one considers the whole scope of Black Sabbath's career in the 1970s, their free-flowing and then highly progressive approach saw a fairly gradual evolution that found the band in a highly different place circa 1978 that mirrored the general ebb and flow of popular music of the day to an extent. By contrast, Morris and company are wholly oblivious to the ephemeral nature of the music climate of the early to mid 1990s and express their sound through a historical amalgam that distills the doom-elements of Sabbath's sound from their debut up until Vol. 4 and occasionally sneaks in a few subtle nods to their late 70s material. The result is a far more stylistically consistent yet musically less adventurous approach that mirrors the characteristic sound of traditional doom circa 1981-1985.

Despite the lack of stylistic progression in Iron Man's approach, this album proves to be a very strong and enthralling musical affair, showcasing a collective effort by four capable contributors. The weak link of the bunch proves to be vocalist Rob Levey, who comes off as a somewhat less distinctive combination of Scott Wino's burly baritone and Scott Reagers' exaggerated, almost happy-go-lucky demeanor. On the one hand it's a bit refreshing to hear an orthodox emulation of Sabbath-inspired doom metal without an overt Ozzy Osbourne imitation, but Levey's approach tends to be a bit sloppy at times, and even off pitch when going into higher territory. The rhythm section supporting Morris' six-stringed assault is a far more effective team, with long-time fellow traveler since the Force/Rat Salad days and bassist Larry Brown literally channeling the spirit of Geezer Butler and acting as an unofficial dueling lead instrumentalist foil to the guitar, while drummer Ron Kalimon has a somewhat less wandering yet still loose and fill-happy take on Bill Ward's signature kit work. The resulting wall of sound exudes a sense of dragging heaviness and fatalism at a variety of tempos and does much to cover for Levey's limitations as a singer.

Given the large creative well provided by the original British pioneers to which this band still pays stylistic tribute, the collection of songs themselves is quite varied in spite of the generally stripped down arrangement. On the faster end of the spectrum is the shuffling, "Children Of The Grave" inspired cruiser "Choices" and somewhat punk-infused rocking speeders after the early Saint Vitus sound like "The Liar" and "Life After Death", each providing impact based riffing and a thundering battery that will kick the listener clean out of his drunken stupor. Truth be told, the whole first half of this album is fairly fast by doom standards, and it continues on a fairly up beat pace rhythmically up until what is arguably the greatest and most distinct offering of the entire album and closing number "Why Can't You See Me". This song is probably the most overt departure from the always heavy, stripped down rocking approach and listens more along the lines of a dense, almost epic trudge through the swamps of despair in a manner not too far from the spacey, keyboard-drenched sound that Count Raven was occasionally employing, though this song uses the keys a bit more sparingly and has a strong Sabbath Bloody Sabbath vibe once things pick up a bit.

In terms of this album, and indeed this band's past and present status of obscurity, the factors involved are many and not even tangentially related to the quality of their actual output. In addition to this band's late arrival relative to the stylistic climate of the day, frequent changes in lineup that culminated in Alfred Morris literally mirroring those that afflicted his object of inspiration Tony Iommi and a series of personal and touring setbacks basically hampered the promotional end of things. Consequently, when name-dropping both this project and the people involved, the single worded response "Who?" is all but inevitable, but it need not remain as such given the overall quality of the final product. Black Night presents a well oiled metallic machine with the heaviness of mid-80s Saint Vitus, the riff work and stylistic trappings of Black Sabbath and Pentagram, and a relatively concise and polished songwriting approach that is arguably a tad more accessible to any newcomer to the doom metal sub-genre that is only familiar with it via the classic Sabbath albums. Whatever cult status it currently enjoys is completely deserved, and a larger congregation for the lingering temple is definitely in order.