Cloak & Dagger

After two releases in quick succession ("Give 'em Hell" and "Stagefright"), Witchfynde's program of LP releases went to an unexpected, but understandable hiatus. Rondelet was in very bad shape and decided to pull out all financial backing for Witchfynde, something that would put the lads into a difficult position when it comes to promote themselves. The only vinyl appearance of Witchfynde in over a year would be the track "Belfast", a BBC session highlight included in 1981's "The Friday Rock Show" compilation. It was the first recording with new singer Chalky White: Steve Bridges had some personal issues that couldn't wait for him anymore and packed his bags early in 1981, something that was quite unfortunate if you ask me.

After a long period of uncertainty, Witchfynde finally cut their contract ties with Rondelet and signed with the Expulsion label - something of a best-for-everyone situation, as Rondelet owed some serious money to Expulsion and Witchfynde switched labels as a sort of debt payment. In the interim, Chalky White gave up his first name choice (a rather hopeless one, let's face it) and assumed the more metal-sounding epithet of Luther Beltz.

"Cloak and Dagger" finally came out in 1983, and turned out to be a much more direct and less varied affair than its predecessors. Sure, there is still a sense of diversity, but Witchfynde seems determined to keep things raw and simple most of the time, a stratagem that works nicely for some songs but not that much for others. While tunes such as "I'd Rather Go Wild", "Cry Wolf" (very nice chorus here), "Crystal Gazing" and the title-track surely hit the nail right on the head, other compositions like "Somewhere to Hide", "Stay Away" and "Rock & Roll" (how original) rely too much on tested formulas and clichés, sounding weak and uninspired in comparison. Where "Stagefright" was trying (perhaps a bit too hard) to move forward, "Cloak & Dagger" wants to play safe - nothing to be ashamed of, that's for sure, but I feel that they lost a bit of their unique approach by choosing this road.

Luther Beltz, although a undeniably gifted singer, fatally leads Witchfynde to more conservative heavy metal territories, as his voice (a very Rob Halford-ish mix of rough singing and high-pitched screams) bears little resemblance to Steve Bridge's not very technical, but surely unique approach to metal. They kinda try to move on from their psychedelic influences and adopt a more unequivocally metal-sounding personality, and Luther's voice is sure up to the challenge - but I wonder if there's any wisdom in giving up on what makes you special in order to become indistinguishable among the crowd. Still, "Cloak & Dagger" is a nice album for the default NWOBHM fan, and that's why it gets a reasonably good rating at the end of the day. The record production could have been a little better, though.

“…I don’t give a damn, I’m gonna give ‘em hell…”

Fire. Demons. Chains. Screams. A monotone “welcome to the devil’s playground” and a Halfordian high note is how holey-moley Witchfynde unveil their third release after two hushed years, their first with not only Expulsion Records (and the label’s first adventure as well), but with oddball/goofball Luther Beltz spitting on the mike. It still amazes me how stuff like this can be recorded and the band doesn’t sit back at the end of the day and say, ‘wow, is this the best we can do?’. I mean, in ’80 (which is when these tracks sound like they hit the studio), you may be able to get away with this without a lynching party forming nearby, and how drummer Scoresby stays awake and sober during 30 bpm tracks like “Start Counting”, “Stay Away” and the Judas Priest-throwaway title track is pretty much a mini-miracle to me. Witchfynde, despite a near fresh start and supposedly renewed attitude, have really done nothing with their sound since their notorious birth.

Now, original vocalist Steve Bridges wasn’t a flaming pyre in the night among voxmen, and admittedly Beltz has more charisma, but only adds a tad of above-rudimentary flair to a sonic formula that his visual cloak and animal ‘fro can’t help as this thing spins around someone’s bedroom. Yeah, he’s got quite a bit of ‘70s Halford in him, even spinning himself a King Diamond web where certain high notes dwell, but it’s a minor plus sign (+) that can be stretched only so far across these eleven tracks.

I’ve come to realize that each Witchfynde album so far has two singles at the most that don’t leave me battling acid reflux. Cloak & Dagger’s are side two’s inaugural punt “Cry Wolf”, the album’s only real headsnapper, and “I’d Rather Go Wild”, a (semi) pertinently-titled tune that captures most of its infectiousness in its chorus. Not too horrible either is “Somewhere to Hide”; a bit too hum-drum to get any party started, but has an annoying tendency to stick in yer head at least for a short car ride. I find everything else here only lucky to be touched by some iota of catchiness if it’s not just plain boring, though when the sun sets it can be said this track list is probably a smidge stronger than those of the group’s previous flycatchers. Still more hard rock than anything, maybe even a bit bluesier this time ‘round, which doesn’t impress.

No lyric sheet (that I’m aware of), and with “The Devil’s Playground” and “Fra Diablo” (an emotively-performed, petite ‘n tender instrumental) the only implication at anything devil-creeped (that they’ve been insinuating uselessly since days long gone), the great cover concept/art is once again that girl that flirts all the time but never delivers and you’d like to punch.

Even though they reportedly spent zilch on this thing’s promotion in the first place, Expulsion would flutter the checkered flags of bankruptcy soon afterward, the band ending up on Mausoleum (probably my first exploration of that label, an exploration that would forever cram a bad taste in my mouth despite anything good I’ve found by the company afterward) to put together one of my most loathed albums, a disc that will be spun for the first time in many, many years. I hope my fortitude holds out.

This album was sent to me as a random recommendation, with no elaboration on style or theme. Just "here, you'll like this". I'm glad I listened to him.

Vocally, this singer reminds me of a young Rob Halford, back before he felt it necessary to scream as high as he could as often as possible. Occasionally he goes for the high shrieks that bring to mind King Diamond, but those are few and far between. His vocal style seems to change with whatever the band is doing at the moment, which is a plus.

The guitars are very bluesy at times, bringing to mind bands like Led Zeppelin and Bad Company, but fully capable of being more "metal", and achieving a similar feel to earlier Judas Priest. The bass is loud enough to be heard, and when it really stands out, reminds me of Iron Maiden. The drums are pretty simplistic, but do their job just fine. Of note, the production is quite good for such an old album, with none of the instruments overpowering eachother.

Musically, this band kind of confuses me. At first it sounded like they had no real direction, but then I realized they didn't really need one. Not every album needs a theme, nor does it need 10 songs that sound exactly the same. One song may sound somewhat like In Trance-era Scorpions, the next a more toned down Motörhead, the song after that a bouncy song reminiscent of Van Halen. It may sound like it lacks cohesion and flow, but it works surprisingly well. They seem to cover everything I like from the late 70's and early 80's (that wasn't considered prog), but with a little tweaking to make it their own sound.

When this album was first sent to me, I wasn't sure what to expect... I just had a year and a title. As I listened to it, it brought a feeling of near nostalgia, something albums are very rarely capable of doing. While perhaps not the most original album, it's definitely enjoyable.