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BEWITCHER
Spell Shock

Century Media (2024)
Rating: 8/10

Doing what they do best, Portland, Oregon-based speedsters Bewitched stick to their deal with the devil and blow out more black smoke in the name of metal. Armed to the teeth with spiked leather and rusty instruments, the trio of M. von Bewitcher (vocals and guitar), A. Magus (bass) and A. Hunter (drums) take to their church of evil and rattle off a succession of biker riffs and musty yelps.

I enjoyed the three previous full-length efforts from the band and so Spell Shock offers more of the same dizzy speed metal, but I just can’t help but chuckle with every vocal gasp, every cheesy video and every silly lyric. The title track is a wonderful example of all those clichés coming together to form a melting pot of mayhem and mimicry as the threesome throws up some 80s Teutonic fury but with the impact of a wasp sting; spiteful yet temporary.

Bewitcher follows a particular tumultuous template which is no surprise for the keen follower, but for those new to such satanic snaps, it just might work. It’s simplistic black-speed metal that spends much of its time rollicking and feverishly frolicking within the tasty, atmospheric artwork of the sleeve.

The real magic here though is the way the band churn out the usual Exciter-cum-Venom strikes, but with a devilish hard rock twist. The result is a vicious throwback to a time when obscure, sleaze-riddled hair rock acts were prowling the gutters and snarling for a record deal.

Bewitcher provides ample examples of lusty leather metal without resorting to satanic speed cliché, which is now all the rage with the likes of Hellripper. So what you get here is a more refined and destructive yet, dare I say it, focused continuation of their last outing, Cursed Be Thy Kingdom (2021). Yes, there are still the trademark Motörhead whips (‘Out Against The Law’) alongside volatile black thrash, but there are some moments of traditional warmth here too, particularly on ‘We Die In Dust’ where the trio channel hard rock nuances, as does ‘Seasons Of Foul Harvest’.

Look deep within the scorched contours of this blistering opus and you’ll discover some rather clever and inviting melodies plucked from some rather unexpected sources, as again I refer to the more back alley vices of the 80s metal scene. Of course, it’s still Bewitcher with sneering vocals and caterwauling solos spitting at the hot flames like an angry leopard stalking a campsite.

With arguably their best album to date, Portland’s poisonous posse leaves eyebrows scorched and nostrils billowing black smok.

Neil Arnold

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