Mirror, My Mirror

Brazil; the same country that brought us Sepultura and Torture Squad, spawned an oddity known as “Witchhammer.” I honestly know very little of the band aside from this offering, but it certainly is an unusual album in the thrash world. The fusion of outside musical styles into metal is often a dubious undertaking. A countless number of bands have achieved at least moderate success with intermingling non-metal elements: Blind Guardian or Atheist come to mind. On the other side of the coin, a band like Cynic managed only galling disarray with their inaccurately titled “Focus.” Mirror, My Mirror is certainly a unique album, with both moments of hypnotic brilliance and appalling lack of taste.

The atmosphere of Mirror, My Mirror is; thankfully, dominated by blistering thrash metal. Witchhammer had the foresight to model this release around the basic precepts of the genre. Plenty of wonderfully spiteful speed and zeal gives the album a solid foundation from which to explore the avant-garde. Abrasive vocals and supersonic drumming capture the essence of thrash pioneers. Withammer’s fundamentals are firmly in place, but the genesis of Mirror, My Mirror is obscured by the formation of dangerous ideas.

Typically, a metal artist is effective when combining genres of appropriate compatibility. Speed metal and thrash are completely reconcilable when blended properly. Paradox uses their modus operandi to create a perfect mix between the two. Thrash and power metal can be synchronized without error: Steel Prophet’s debut and Fates Warning for example. Witchhammer only partially succeed in merging dichotomous musical styles. Operatic intros and groove sections prove moderately advantageous in adding depth to the music, but acoustic meandering often appears out of place. The blues sections make Mirror, My Mirror sound a bit too schizophrenic. At times, the band even abandons metal altogether, replacing thrash with slightly modified punk rock. Structural inconsistencies most often plague the album as a whole, rather than adding a positive aura of unpredictability.

“Liberty” is one of the few moments where the band employs the acoustic guitar properly. The smooth, operatic vocals give rise to the title track. “Mirror, My Mirror” begins with a slow, heavy riff and menacing chanting. Here comes the blitzkrieg! When the main riff kicks into overdrive, it installs feelings of refined hostility. Witchhammer shows their true strength on this track as it rips into the listener, shredding internal organs and leaving them mutilated before the thrash break strikes the killing blow. “Underground Ways” follows suit, though the intensity remains a few notches below the predecessor. The album takes a drastic turn with “From a Suicide Man to God.” Punk influences are far too prominent on the song, upsetting the flow of the album. Though Witchhammer resurrect the thrashing madness later in the track, the out of place rock solo takes away from the overall catchy vibe of the chorus: the horribly performed vocals on the outro do not help matters. Side A concludes with “Mad Inspiration,” a concoction of “hillbilly” garbage that will make you feel a band of rednecks is about to rape you in a forest. The vocals on this track are so horribly bad; they will either stun you with disbelief, or force you to stifle your vomit.

By the time Side B begins, the full measure of the problem becomes obvious. “A Party for the Sunrise” begins with another eerie, operatic chant and pounding build up. Excellent thrash riff? Check. A groove filled chorus gives the song character, but the band is spent after the first track-as was the case on the first side. Witchhammer again throw out a barrage of multi-styled songs that range from hardcore infused quasi thrash, to riot vocals and anthem rock. Low and behold, Mirror, My Mirror is concluded with another massive stain of diseased semen. “The Lost Song” is a fusion of rock and blues. Vocally, the song is even worse than the last track on side A. Witchhammer apparently hired Elmo to handle the singing on this track, then set him on fire before putting the microphone in his face. It’s a shame that the album’s closer wasn’t actually lost.

Two members of the band handle the main vocals, and both of them suck for the most part. The vocalists only sound competent on the straight-laced thrashers and punk verses. Drumming is handled primarily in a “stock” manner, though the variation in drum patterns is an interesting twist. The guitarists handle the verse writing rather well, if not brilliantly; however, the solos all sound as if they were written for other songs (IE, they just don’t fit).

Taken independently, most of the tracks are either solid or excellent. Mirror, My Mirror; as a single entity, borders on being a total disaster. Only the moments of exceptionally talented thrash and positive, experimental ideas save this album from crashing. Pick this album up if you like unusual metal, and can tolerate moments of acrimony.

Note: The vinyl version actually sounds better than the CD. If you own a turntable, there is no need to pay an inflated price for a CD.