Lesbian Show

This Sappho, this lusty mademoiselle; just to think of the ways she had with these young innocent girls; to compel them to suck… the nectar from the flowers in her vast, unfathomable garden… with her seductive poems; pretty much like bees at the peak of the love… sorry, honey-making season.

I remember I laughed out loud when I saw the Nightfall cassette on the shelf at the music shop. It took me some time to stop, and the guy there laughed all the way with me as he was certain that I was amused by the album cover (on which there’s only one girl if I count correctly… and a tongue) and the title. What amused me more actually in that case was that it only seemed too fitting for a Greek band to pay tribute to the rich sexual and literary heritage of their homeland, I mean directly, without beating about the frequently well-trimmed bush.

I’d listened to all the Nightfall efforts before that one, largely due to the affection a friend of mine had for them, but I never became very fond of their larger-than-life, plain overblown at times gothic/death/black/doom melodramas. The guys were simply throwing too much at the listener who couldn’t help but be overwhelmed at some point, nodding his/her head in uncertain appreciation. I warmed up to them as time went by, but it was this lascivious lesbian show here that converted me for their cause.

There was this arousing girl-on-girl nuance missing from the band’s repertoire until then, something they were bound to add if not as (un)realised fantasy, at least as a bow to their history again. And they had to make haste if they didn’t want to see their compatriots Septicflesh or Rotting Christ do that before them. Well, the latter chose a dead poem to recite (could have been written by Sappho?) at that time; whereas the former were content enough with spinning a biiiiig ophidian wheel. Nothing too arousing on either front, but here things got fuckin’ serious, baby! The guys simply couldn’t hold it any longer: Sappho is the woman, for crying out loud, her sexual aberrations (not)withstanding, and she by all means deserves to be immortalized.

Yes, sure, but how would an ode to this legendary poetess’ legacy fit into the operatic grandeur of the band’s exploits? Doesn’t seem very appropriate, this ambitious musical approach, does it? No, it doesn’t, truth be told, but it, like anything else, is subject to change. And change it does, on the album here which saw the Greek scene catching up with the metamorphoses on the circuit where the gothic/post-death hybrid was running rampant after a couple of visionary opuses (Cemetary’s “Godless Beauty”, Sentenced’s “Amok”, Therion’s “Symphony Masses: Ho Drakon Ho Megas”) showed the death and other extreme metal cohorts how to modify their template in order to fit more fully into the 90’s music carnival.

The album-title and the cover with the missing girl (or maybe she’s underneath the other one, I don’t know…) are already quite indicative that this would be a major paradigm shift. From parades into centuries to macabre sunsets to lesbian shows… quite a change of scenery if you ask me. Add the intro of the “two lesbians interrupted” variety, naturally followed by a scream of frustration and disappointment, and the picture is nothing like anything cooked by the band earlier, the simplistic rock-ish riffs following suit taken straight from some Sisters of Mercy or Fields of the Nephilim opus. No post-deathisms of any kind at this early stage, this is gothic rock with strong subversive deviant, sexual overtones but “Aenaon” comes to save being a much more officiant, more aggressive proposition, a sure not necessarily Athenian, echo of the preceding album with a nice memorable chorus.

Both approaches mix later on “Dead Woman, Adieu”, a nice memorable, brooding quasi-doomster with a hypnotic main motif, with “The Secret Admirer” going towards a more mainstream heavy/power metal territory. “My Own Troy” is an unbelievably catchy material with gorgeous melodic tunes, a superb sing-alonger with more aggressive accumulations, the absolute highlight here that would easily convert even Helen of Troy into the ultimate pussy-devouring champion. “The Fleshmaker” walks a slightly different path evoking more images of hot steaming, female flesh with its heavier, more complex approach before “Death Star” brings things back to ancient Greek philosophical simplicity with its direct bouncy riffage. “Cold Bloody Killer” twists the lesbian myth through a sombre doomy perspective save for the off-putting brutal blast-beating outburst, with all orgies pacified/mortified on the gothic balladic/semi-balladic stretch “Lashed Augusth Reign”, a fitting introspective epitaph to this more sexually-promising at the beginning saga.

Yeah, I was expecting more intros/extros/outros with moaning women featured later like the one that opened the album, but the guys pull themselves together after this arousing etude and concentrate on the music. And they do a fairly good job although their old fans may not be amused by this stylistic shift. At the same time I’m quite sure that there were others who jumped the band wagon after this one due to its instantly memorable character with every cut having this hit-potential, with the always lurking possibility for stirring a most exciting girl-on-girl showdown in the small hours, after a heavy party when only you, your girlfriend and her irresistibly charming best friend have remained in the house, with you sitting on the other couch, looking at them laughing semi-innocently, trying to select the right euphemisms (nothing vulgar, mind you) in order to incite the ladies to get cosier, and to not be shy but shorten the distance and come closer to each other… closer, closer, closer…

but enough with these lusty digressions, and let’s quickly wrap it on by saying that the band never elaborated on those licking/panting-girls’ rendezvous with their subsequent efforts expanding into various directions, with only the immediate follow-up (“Diva Futura”) giving both the gothic heavy rock and the female-dominated aesthetics a full nude go. Things took a more serious direction later from the morose Moonspell-esque “I Am Jesus” to the symphonic/orchestral liberties on “Cassiopeia”, the guys restoring some of their more complex swagger, looking confidently into the future, possibly pondering over the musical accompaniment of another sexual… sorry, ancient Greek mystery.

Before I start writing anything else about Lesbian Show I have to be honest and say that what Nightfall had done up to this, did not appeal to my music likes. So I didn’t expect that this release would blow me away, that’s for sure! By surpassing the limited boundaries of death metal, the band show their intentions to add to their sound more classic metal elements and a big dose of atmosphere without leaving aside the strength and heaviness that characterized previous material. The guitars riffs are catchier and the melody balances with a death metal feeling. The vocals have obtained more “color” but the harshness and aggressiveness are still there. All these are helped by the very good production.

The self-titled song that opens the album is a rhythmic, catchy metal dynamite with a beautiful riff and great vocal, yet still brutal, melodies. It surely is the albums hit and one of the best songs. The Secret Admirer and My own Troy are killing everyone who dares to defy them. Heavy as hell rhythm section, smashing drums and corrosive guitars are supporting Nightfall’s war-metal.

The best fucking moment of Lesbian Show is called Death Star. From the first note the song states that it’s here to thrill you and leave you shattered and breathless. Fantastic breaks, pounding, fast and technical at times drum playing turn this one into a war machine that annihilates false metal and crap like alternative. It is a metal demon that will haunt you for days once you hear it for the first time.

The remaining songs are also well composed although not so exciting as the foretold metal killers. They don’t prevent the album from keeping itself at a high level. My only objection is the track Lashed Augusth Reign that is not of much quality. Nightfall is a small band from a small country with a minor tradition in heavy metal. Yet they proved that deserved more and that they could have done better. My advice is that you enjoy this lesbian show but in the way Nightfall suggest.

This record sounds very similar to Sentenced's Amok, which is surprising, seeing as how Nightfall is from Greece, but hey, it was recorded at Tico Tico studios, so that might explain some stuff.

I wasn't really familiar with Nightfall before this album, but I dislike this album a lot and it kept me away from them for a while. The problem is that there is barely any speed on here, and for the most part, the songs stay in a simple hard rock pace. They even have very catchy choruses, like the title track, but I don't really like that too much. What they do manage to do right is place an emphasis on heavy, chugging guitars and the occasional melody, but it just doesn't doo too much. No element really grabs you, other than the singer's rather gruff voice, which is actually quite nice. It just follows a rocking formula the whole time, as if they were planning on getting the songs played on the radio. The best word to describe this album is: trite. It's slightly heavier and more gothic than Amok, but there is nothing really new or interesting being tried out here.