December 29, 2002 |
Stack such incontestably awesome poetry atop a metal bedrock that’s equal parts Iron Maiden and Borknagar and put in inside of a sleeve that sports some scaly guy with a trident slogging his way up from the marsh into the reddening dusk, and what have you got? Once you figure in the album’s ace title, They Will Return, I mean. I’ll tell you what you’ve got: a recipe for greatness, that’s what. Post-black-metal keyboards all Wakemanned out, tight crunchy Grieg-dripping riffs bouncing along over a solid 4/4 beat equals nothing but love when you figure in the bit about the swamp. When you hear the four-bar bass break that the song in question breaks off at the one-minute mark, I know you’ll hear what I hear: something that Clear Channel’s rock listeners will respond to with speed and with enthusiasm. Look, I know you think I’m joking. I’m putting this letter up on the web instead of tucking it into an envelope and mailing it to you, and I’ve gone on at such great length that no-one could blame you if you thought I was just talking to hear myself speak. Think what you will. But give Kalmah a few public spins, and see if something doesn’t happen. Just between us two, I think we may be on the cusp of something really big. We’ll talk about it over lunch sometime. There’s a terrific Thai restaurant less than a mile from here. Is it a date? Best from Iowa John |
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