Self Made Tomb

As I'm disconcerted Minneapolis' cryptically glum and foreboding, albeit visceral, doom-laden traditional act Wicked Inquisition has, er, verily sealed its tomb i.e. glided, phantom-like, towards direly chthonian pastures in Satan's Satyrs, seek major solace in its compendious discography, whose obsidian nativity began with a highly innocuous demo (featuring Pentagram's timeless early "daze" dirge, "Livin' In A Ram's Head") followed by despondently dexterous - if not rabidly rueful - three-track EP (the subject of this here hellish report), and thus proliferated until its sole hard-driving and melodic multi-instrumentalist, Nate Towle, ah, threw in the towel...yet, propitiously so by hiring on much needed (live) support in a variety of erudite compadres in time for 2013's slightly longer Silence Thereafter EP, and, more importantly, WI's long-suffering but lugubriously seasoned and rampant titular full-length debut released in 2015 under Tridroid's Records, a celestial North Star distributor of intriguing but no less wizened local fare such as Noble Breast, Void Ritual and Wizard Castle.

However, let's save said fabled lore for another time, as tonight, I consider it my histrionic duty to wax winsome and wroth in regards to this criminally overlooked Hyperborean hybrid.

In a single turn of phrase, Wicked Inquisition's Self-Made Tomb EP encapsulates the very best elements of speedy Sabbath-ian heavy metal (namely, congenially paced gloom oft kindled and illuminated by sizzling guitar solos capsizing over funky, high powered bass lines and jester-ing, hat-tipping drum rides which likely induce Bill Ward to tears), along with lugubriously rocking nods to past lowbrow - albeit musically proficient and fierce - cult favourites such as Cathedral, Trouble and Witchfinder General.

In fact, my first, jubilantly guffawing introduction to Mr. T's comprehensive and nostalgic fast to mid-tempo pentatonic riff-ery/minor-dominant Iommi-isms - i.e. torsion-ed, twisted, nitroglycerine infused bridging chops - entailed a randomly gleaned cover of Trouble's murderous drilling pacemaker, 1984's "Assassin", followed by direct, one-way connection to "You're On Smack", the third and final corker, as well as #1 narcotic themed humdinger off this breezily brief, Volume 4 honouring underground prolegomenon. (Further indelibly reprised readings consist of Budgie's "Hot As A Docker's Armpit" and - brace yourselves! - St.Vitus' killer trailblazing 1985 classic, "White Stallions", available, among other oddities, on the outfit's official, if not rather extensive, black swan song, 2017's Demos & Rarities compilation.)

Though this sneaky little affair lasts only ten minutes, rest assured none are wasted, whether on eerie and mournfully ringing "Self-Made Tomb" to more upbeat and gregariously topping, ride-happy middle cut, "Sun Flight", meritoriously concluding with aforementioned, wound up and romping/throttling/pile-driving admonish-er, "You're On Smack" - on which scorching hot and rabidly fluttering proto-metal leads possesses the fulsome, finalizing chop of an intractably dropped guillotine blade.

Essentially, as I studiously absorb a particularly enlightening interview with ringleader Towle on zulu-tube, Wicked Inquisition should be rushed with the full fury of a hellion succubus, or, rather, fervently earmarked by "dark & bluesy" metal aspirants far and wide, alongside fellow reminiscing curios in the form of Britain's Amulet, Kentucky's Blood Curse and Canada's (± gutted) Goathorn, to name a brawny, mud-slinging few.