Kingdom Come

Whenever I hear somebody revere Black Sabbath as the godfather of heavy metal, I'm compelled to steer them towards Sir Lord Baltimore's Kingdom Come LP, recorded at Electric Lady Studios and released in 1970 under Mercury Records, as the Long Island, New York proto-metal trio likely blew unsuspecting folks clear out of the water with its fulminating brand of eclectically boogieing jams marked by Louis Dambra's stridently raw pentatonic guitar licks and drummer (!) John Garner's (RIP) maniacally exuberant shout-y vocals diametrically backed by an incessantly clouting, at times downright boinking, battery compounded by bassist Gary Justin which brings to mind a blazing runaway tanker trunk headed for a brick wall.

In fact, it's thanks to my 1960s obsessed, aging hippie neighbour I even got wind of these old-time, joyfully randy miscreants, as he'd given me his vintage, mint condition (i.e. barely spun) copy, having found them way too "heavy" and spastic (another factor could be the cover eschews skulls but that's a whole other story!). In my haste to check 'em out, I haphazardly threw on the B Side first and immediately revelled in the eerily majestic title track's fuzzed out and transcendentally medieval guitar riff as well as loose-goosy, fleet-footed drum beats which eventually yield freaking awesome leads, notably the unabated and cartwheeling, free-for-all solo five minutes in. It's actually the more solemn and radio-friendly track alongside the wistfully prancing and fairy-tale styled "Lake Isle of Innersfree", which, despite its eloquent instrumentation, contains similar, if not coyly subtle, wild-oat sowing overtures such as the following climatic and oh-so-thespian verse:

"She was only seventeen
You might say in her prime
She said we’d do it all my friend
We’d do it all in time
But now a stranger to myself
I think about it now and then
When she was only seventeen
I was eight and ten"

Cute! For the record though, Kingdome Come is rather comprised of rollicking, roustabout haymakers in the likes of the scratchily demonic albeit optimistically harebrained "Helium Head (I've Got A Love)", with its jittery, tap-dancing drums as well as drunkenly beach-combing, tether ball evoking bass line, or the howdy-doody romp and stomp-er which is "Hard Rain Fallin"', swankily imbued as it is with ultra-boppish n' foppish bass and frenziedly piercing, eye-poking lead guitar jabs which make one's head feel like a pez-dispenser! Then, you've the jumpy, bed bouncing "Lady of Fire" which, riff wise, brings to mind Deep Purple's "Woman from Tokyo", as well as hard-driven knock-a-rama and extra bass heavy "Master Heartache", immortalized decades later by the incomparable Church of Misery (suffice to say, the prime instigator for the serial killer and horror obsessed Japanese doom metal formation).

At this point, allow me to relay an eerie personal anecdote relating to "Kingdom Come" proper, which still rings ominously. Sometime shortly after having gleaned this record (circa the early 00s), I was blasting said titular track on my headphones while work-bound and crossing the train tracks to the local commuter station (and admittedly, checking out the comely gal sauntering ahead of me and who'd already reached the other, safe side) when I was almost smacked full-on by a speeding VIA rail car, blindsided as I was by an opposing freight train. I could feel the rushing wind of this barrelling behemoth speeding roughly a meter behind me! Let's just say I sat the day out and relegated the album to the back of the bin for quite some time before mustering the resolve to overcome my unease and brush with instant death.

Anyhow, I highly recommend Sir Lord Baltimore's Kingdom Come full-length debut to fellow jocosely shit-kicking 70s blues rock and American proto-metal fiends who are in the market for a bit of wry nostalgia and overall youthful ebullience. Beyond that, I can't comment much on later releases, but happen to also heavily dig the masterful, apex-reaching guitar solo of "Chicago Lives", from the New Yorkers' 1971 titular sophomore. In any event, this whacked out golden oldie will surely stir you into unfettered paroxysms of tumultuous adulation.