SPELL
Tragic Magic
Bad Omen (2022)
Rating: 8/10
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Exploring the realms of cosmic goth, Vancouver, British Columbia-based duo Spell returns with its next storybook narrated in wistful and ethereal fashion by Cam Mesmer, who, along with fellow clan member Al Lester, has crafted another bewitching, prog-laced hard rock opus.
These guys have mastered the art of manifesting old school aesthetics but with total authenticity as they craft magical, dream-like sequences which unravel as spiralling pastures awash with dazzling textures and kaleidoscopic contours, as from the off the band’s hauntingly effective melodies are apparent.
To call Spell original may be silly on my part. After all, they are clearly influenced by the likes of Rush, Blue Öyster Cult, Mercyful Fate, Wishbone Ash, Led Zeppelin, Voivod and, dare I say it, even Mötley Crüe on the opening rattles of ‘Fatal Breath’. But they also have the deft touch of a master artist as they twist their brush through the palette of extraordinary colours to construct an array of utterly wonderful shapeshifting segments.
‘Ultraviolet’ is bright and breezy, where the bass judders in a comforting sort of moodiness and the angular solos twinkle and flutter without causing any strenuous action. And that’s the key here as the duo effortlessly wafts as autumnal wisps, never really going too hard on the listener weight wise. Okay, so on that chorus I was expecting the cry of “Holy diver” at times, but it’s still an engaging slab of hard rock that throughout remains devious and devilish.
Harder tracks do emerge though. ‘Hades Embrace’ is a fiery rocker that embraces you with its sizzling solos and chugging riffs, and ‘Cruel Optimism’ begins like some stuffy mid-80s doom-laden Euro-metal slab, but as with most tracks there’s that shift into subtlety which the band displays time and time again, caressing us with those haunting tones almost as to lure us further in.
‘A Ruined Garden’ reeks of the more experimental side of Voivod but also tickles us with an Eastern guitar hook and varying delicate trickles, ‘Sarcophagus’ rattles hard with the bass and gallops with a gothic glee, while ‘Watcher Of The Seas’ is somewhat of a rainy Gothic drip overlaid with New Wave Of British Heavy Metal-styled gloominess. But it’s all a natural, organic and occult-influenced cauldron of vaguely familiar ghosts conjured to enrich and warm us through the coming colder months. This is clever stuff from the cult once again.
Neil Arnold
