Philip Larkin’s Metal Corner

Popular poet/librarian Philip Larkin died in 1985. Due to his repeated use of choice language, not to mention his – shall we say – ‘nodding acquaintance’ with racism, he currently languishes in Purgatory, where he has found a comfortable niche running the library (famously ‘shushing’ Baphomet after the latter was loudly guffawing at a copy of Fox’s Book of Martyrs), and penning this popular and informative column.

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Hi all!

To begin with, I’d like to address last month’s postbag. To Maureen in Smith’s Falls, your sister-in-law is clearly hysterical – you should be able to blast Volume 4 until at least 11pm, whereupon local by-laws will have to be referred to. And to George in Solihull, as I’ve said before, I’m not a fucking bus timetable service, but I believe the number 12 route was recently scaled back on Sundays – your best bet is to get a 57 into the village, then a 35b (from outside the Post Office) which will take you as far as Horseshit Lane – but it’s a local route, so bring a book.

And with that, we arrive at this month’s column. I’d like to look at an early video classic from Celtic Frost playing “Into The Crypt of Rays”, and use it to give a few pointers on what makes a choice metal performance. Let’s watch the video, then discuss.

I think you’ll agree, that’s meat and drink for the metal inclined. But where does it all go so right? I’ve summarized some big ticket items:

• The singer is called Tom G Warrior – the G stands for ‘God is a tosser’ (ref: interview in Tin Gizzard #78). ‘Warrior’, while not his real surname, it strong and fanciful, and also serves as the beginnings of an explanation for his leather getup – otherwise let’s face it, people could be forgiven for thinking he’s some rich accountant’s gimp.
• The ‘lyrics / headbang’ ratio is very impressive. There are parts of the performance where he basically sings a line, then does a headbang – you don’t get that with the Bee-Gees. In addition, the leant over headbanging style preferred here shows early promise of a witch-like Dowager’s Hump – an essential demonic accoutrement for even the most casually repugnant peddler of what Crowley called ‘the dark stuff’.
• The camera occasionally strays to the bassist. I know what you’re thinking – the cameraman is trying to get sacked. But look again – the bassist is left handed. A sure sign of devilry at work. What seems like a rookie error on the part of the technician instead reveals itself as a sly nod to the scale – and subtlety – of wanton depravity at work here. One almost expects a fucking ginger midget to appear.
• Lastly, back to Mr Warrior – look at those leather clad elbows. Your first reaction on seeing this was no doubt the same as mine: “Hello”, I thought, “Tom’s got a bit of a tennis injury there”. A reasonable assumption, but during my years working in Hull University library, I’ll estimate I spent about 80% of my time researching the occult and arcane, and believe me when I say the elbow has been known as ‘satan’s knuckle’ since time immemorial. You’ll forgive me if I reveal I felt a chill down my spine as I saw Mr Warrior’s arm clefts clad in such willful splendour. I only hope he understands the forces he’s tempting with such a display – from my window here in Purgatory I can occasionally glimpse hell through the belching sulphur, and let’s just say I’ve seen people getting seriously bothered by unspeakably randy bum-demons for a lot less.

Anyway, there we have it – watch the video again and mull these points. Then watch it again just because you have nought else of any consequence to do. And please join me next month when I’ll take you on a particularly disturbing journey to see where Tony Iommi’s fingertips ended up.

Until then, may your riffs be dense and your solos immense,
Phil
xox