For centuries past, many tribes know the tales
Of men not returning, when they’ve gone there
And those who’ve returned, can’t describe what they’ve seen
Their hair has turned white, and they’ve gone insane
Why Horror Show isn’t already pumping through the speakers of wise-ass hipsters and directionless Korn fans alike is beyond me. It ‘s got all the right moves: shrieking electric guitars, triggered double bass drum attacks, and a unifying concept too charming to dislike. Songs about vampires. A voice-of-Satan voiceover. A little backwards-masking. A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants. Horror Show’s clock is broken in more ways than one, and you should buy it only if the Iron Maiden skeletons in your closet don’t gather a whole lot of dust. But when its hour comes around, as it does four or five times in its ten songs, it’s a welcome punch in the face.
