Demon Records [Release date 28.08.26] Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow’s three German live shows, originally released on CD some years ago and long out of print, were reissued more recently as part of Demon’s Temple Of The King box set. The label … Continue reading →
Murley’s Close Your Eyes dives into a psychedelic rock space where bluesy guitar work, deep grooves, and a loose jam-oriented energy come together with an immersive edge. The track captures the feeling of mental unrest through swirling textures and a hazy, hypnotic atmosphere, while the band’s rhythmic foundation keeps the song grounded and moving. Rather than chasing a polished, overly structured approach, Murley allow the instrumental interplay to breathe, giving the track a spontaneous quality that reflects their reputation as a band built around jamming. With roots in the Chicago music scene stretching back to 2005, the group blends rock, blues, funk, and psychedelic influences into a sound that feels organic and performance-driven. Close Your Eyes is a groove-heavy, atmospheric cut that gradually pulls deeper into its psychedelic headspace.
The late 80s was a tough time for British metal. While the rest of the planet seemed to be throwing up new thrash bands at a frightening pace, what did we have to offer? Well, if circumstances had played out differently, there was one band who just might have competed with their peers from the US and Germany: Sabbat.
The Nottingham band offered something that was musically fresh, diverse and innovative. Mixing pagan ideas with deeply-set folk and progressive influences, plus a sonically theatrical dynamic, they threatened to take thrash metal to a new level.
Sabbat started as Hydra in June 1985, with vocalist Martin Walkyier, bassist Fraser Craske and guitarist Andy Sneap. The arrival of drummer Simon Negus, replacing Mark Daley, who left at the same time as second guitarist Adam Ferman, coincided with a name change to Sabbat.
Two demos, Magik In Theory And Practice and Fragments Of A Faith Forgotten, not only got the young band major media attention, but led to a deal with celebrated German label Noise Records (amusingly, the deal couldn’t be signed until Sneap turned 18). Their debut album, 1988’s History Of A Time To Come, underlined the foursome’s class, creativity and loud clout. By the end of that year, they’d become a permanent five-piece with the addition of guitarist Simon Jones (formerly with Darlington’s Holosade), all of which set up what should have been the big international breakthrough, their second album Dreamweaver: Reflections Of Our Yesterdays. A concept album, no less.
“I had read a novel called The Way Of Wyrd by Brian Bates, and thought it could be easily adapted to Sabbat,” recalls Walkyier. “I was always into the idea of doing concepts anyway, and the rest of the band were up for that idea.”
A fantasy story set in pre-Christian England, the spirituality and Pagan philosophies in the 1983 book appealed to the singer. In the meantime, Sneap had been working up a lot of musical ideas.
“I had loads of riffs and arrangements already worked out,” says the guitarist. “They were more involved than had been the case on our debut, but that was to some extent because I was trying to keep myself entertained. I had no problem with the idea of a concept album. I was into King Diamond and Mercyful Fate, so went along with Martin on this one. I did read The Way Of Wyrd, and enjoyed it. Not exactly what I was into, but Martin did an amazing job in fitting the whole story into the lyrics.”
(Image credit: Press/Tony Mottram)
Putting together the words and music was a comparatively smooth operation, although Walkyier was still finishing off the lyrics when Sabbat relocated to Noise Studios in Berlin. They were working going to work with producer Roy Rowland who had been behind the desk for the debut.
“We wanted to use Roy again, although in the end I think he was the wrong choice,” admits Walkyier. “That’s typical of us, always making mistakes back then. The thing is that everything about Dreamweaver… suggests, even now, that it could have been a great album – except the production. Maybe it was too complex for Roy, I’m not sure. You’ve also got to remember this was before computers were being used – everything was on two-inch tape which caused its own problems. The tracks which bookended the album, the opening and closing ones, started to wear out on the tape.”
“We had two weeks in Berlin before we could even record,” says Sneap. “Roy was waiting for a delivery of acoustic tiles because the studio sounded awful. Noise had bought it from Tangerine Dream and ripped out a carpet that was in there. It was replaced with a pine floor and, as the ceiling was low, the sound was dreadful. A great start for us, especially when you consider that Noise were charging us for studio time while Roy waited for those tiles!”
Eventually the band spent six weeks in Berlin, with Walkyier and Sneap staying on for the mixing process. “Things were getting out of hand,” laughs Sneap. “There were objects flying out of fifth floor windows, microwaves being blown up and lots of drunken behaviour. So, it was decided to send the other three guys home.“
It didn’t help that Sabbat had virtually no money to ease the pain of Berlin. “We each got the equivalent of £3 per day, which meant that we could barely afford to eat anything!” recalls Walkyier. “I guess that was typical of the way Noise treated us. There was no financial commitment at all from their end. Having signed us, the label didn’t show any interest in what we did. I still believe that had Noise bothered with Sabbat, then Dreamweaver… would have been really successful, and we’d have gone on to have a great career. The plus side to this was that they never interfered artistically – we just got on with things the way that we wanted.”
“The problem that we had was that there was no-one looking after us,” Walkyier continues. “We needed a manager at the time, someone who’d be our big brother and deal with the money. All of us were so young and naïve that we had no clue how to manage finance. Every tour we’d come home having lost money. It was crazy. Noise did suggest one possible candidate, but none of us thought he was right for the band. So we went through all of that era with nobody to turn to.”
Dreamweaver… was released in June 1989 to a strong critical reaction and decent sales. Its combination of Sneap’s complex riffs, Walkyier’s distinctive half-snarled vocals, and the singer’s in-depth pagan-centred lyrics, it sounded like nothing else out there.
But while Sabbat may have reached new artistic heights with this record, it also signalled the death knell for the line-up that recorded it. Walkyier and Craske left following a tour with Manowar, with the singer citing musical and financial reasons.
“There are stories that I quit Sabbat because the rest of the band didn’t like my Pagan lyrics. That’s not true,” clarifies Walkyier. ”All of us shared an interest in that side of things. The Paganism was never a problem. I was always left to get on with the lyrics in the best way that I saw fit. No, the truth was that I could see the music was going to get even more complex. Andy was writing 11-minute metal epics, and I couldn’t even begin to see how I’d write lyrics for something like that. I wanted to explore other musical styles, to bring in violins for instance. That would never have worked with Sabbat.
“The other trouble was that I was broke. It wasn’t too bad on the road, when you’d get your food and drink. But I was living at home on £27 a week income support, and my girlfriend was pregnant with my son. I just couldn’t go on like that.”
Sneap and Negus continued under the Sabbat banner without them, recruiting US singer Richie Desmond, bassist Wayne Banks and second guitarist Neil Watson, who replaced the departed Simon Jones. This short-lived line-up released 1991’s critically mauled Mourning Has Broken album before splitting (Sneap later conceded the record should never have come out under the Sabbat name).
After his departure, Walkyier formed Skyclad, whose blend of metal and folk would prove hugely influential.The singer, Craske and Jones reunited in the late 1990s under the name Return To The Sabbat – Sneap, who was starting out on a career as an engineer and producer, blocked them from using the Sabbat name, aggrieved that he and Negus had been left with in debt following their former bandmates’ depatures. But by 2006, any lingering tensions had been put aside for a full reunion, supporting Sabbat devotees Cradle Of Filth at a handful of dates. While there were never plans to record, the band fell apart once more due to an argument between Walkyier and Sneap.
Sabbat have remained inactive since then, though Dreamweaver… has subsequently been held up as a cult British metal classic, even if Walkyier and Sneap have mixed feelings about it.
“The songs and musicianship are still really strong,” says Walkyier. “I can’t fault them. But the production… you can hear holes all over the place And I also feel the overall feel of the record is too complex. Maybe part of the problem was that we were trying to cram too much into about 40 minutes.”
“Basically, we packed so many riffs onto the record; I think there must be about 20 on each track,” says Sneap, whose production and mixing credits includes albums by by Machine Head, Arch Enemy, Killswitch Enagage and Judas Priest, the latter of whom he subsequently joined as touring guitarist. “What this album ended up being was Martin screaming poetry over loads and loads of riffs. If a band came to me today with these ideas, I’d pull it apart and get them to rethink the songs. But, we were so young back then – I was barely 20 – that we didn’t have the experience. One thing that does come through is what a clever lyricist Martin was – and is. There’s nobody who can touch him, in the way he uses words.
There’s little doubt that Dreamweaver: Reflections Of Our Yesterdays is the story of an opportunity lost. In differing circumstances, this could have transformed British thrash.
“It’s a record of its time,” says Sneap. “Despite all the obvious mistakes, it seems the fans still love it, and it was a very challenging project.”
Originally published in Metal Hammer 161. Updated May 2024
If you know me, you know that I’m a sucker for folk metal. This is why, during Wacken Open Air, I got the chance to interview Johanna and Dennis from Vogelfrey!
Benedetta
So, I’m here with the amazing Vogelfrey. How are you doing, guys?
Vogelfrey
Warm. It’s really hot. A bit tired, maybe, but very happy about today’s concert.
Benedetta
You’re playing Wacken in an anniversary edition. How does it feel?
Vogelfrey
It’s amazing. We totally love it to be here. It’s always a very superlative place to be. The biggest what we can imagine to play. And every time we go here, it feels like, yeah, we’ve done this a couple of times. Let’s relax. And then you’re on the stage and it’s like, no, no, we’re not relaxed. It’s not good. No relaxing.
Benedetta
Of course, you’re experienced in live shows, but also you have experience in music production and the studio. Do you think that the life of an artist is a lonely life?
Vogelfrey
That’s a good question. I think yes and no. If they’re not musicians, it’s hard to explain how it feels. Some people come up to us and they’re like, “You’re so big, you’re a star“. And we’re like, “Nah, chill“. It takes so long to explain that while explaining how you’re not, it happens to me. I can only talk to and perform myself. But the more you try to explain that you’re not big and you’re not that, you realize how weird this life is and that kind of singles out a little bit. But at the same time, music is often something that you do in a group. And even with that, sometimes you make things very hard and very difficult. Also, because the studio job is always very lonely, because you sit there very alone and you have to perform very alone. But other than that, music is also kind of the thing that brings you together. So in a way, yes, in a way, no. I think we have a kind of outstanding because we have a long history. How long do we exist? 22 years at least. And we are in the same formation the whole time. It’s like family. So in a way, I would say, no, it’s not that lonely. We are in this shit together. We have experienced so much things in this period.
Benedetta
Do you think that we will ever have some equality between men and women in the metal world?
Johanna Heesch
I would hope. I think there’s a possibility, because I think these developments go in waves, right? So right now, we have had a good couple of years where female artists started pushing onto the big stages. In brackets, of course, there have been amazing, great female artists for a long, long time. And they have been paving the way. But I think it has gone a little up. And now we’re kind of in a part where we need to discuss, like, is this really necessary? Why is it necessary? Some think it’s too much. Some say it’s still not enough. And that clashes. The clash will lead us down way again. There might be a chance that the next wave is even higher. It might come down worse, and then it gets even higher. And maybe we’ll get to the point where we are equally seen. I mean, we are equal, but we’re not equally treated always. Like, both sides, kind of. I would never say it’s just the women. We are all human, but we kind of can’t find together yet. That’s the thing, yeah.
Benedetta
Dennis, what do you say?
Dennis Walkusch
I would hope, because I think that bands who don’t have female members are really missing out. But there’s no like saying that it would be worse or better if there were no female members. But there are still a lot of people that say things get inherently worse when there’s a female involved. That’s a problem and we can’t completely eradicate that. That goes down to patriarchal structures and stuff like that. But I think, and we’ve talked a little on the way here. I’ve talked to our singer for a while. And we also talked about the feeling that we do feel like things are evolving. They are slowly evolving. Looking back to 20 years ago when we started, how many female artists were on the stage with us? Not that many. It’s still not the same amount, but we’ve pushed forward. We’ve made a development, I guess. Can’t really say.
Benedetta
Thank you so much for taking the time to do this. Anything else that you want to add to our viewers and readers?
Vogelfrey
Support your locals. Let’s go into a new world together. Not against each other. Maybe be open-minded to new music. And not so close-minded that you only listen to metal and you’re missing out on very great music if you have a mindset that only your genre is great for your music.
Tokyo Blade have been with us since the early New Wave of British Heavy Metal days of the 1980s. We all know that classic Night of the Blade album from 1983 don’t we? Despite such a fine album, the Blade never hit the heights which that album promised – though that’s not for lack of […]
“We’re going to do our best to entertain the faeces out of you”, declares Les Claypool early in the Primus set at the O2 Academy Brixton, shortly after singing a few bars of Chim Chim Cher-ee from Mary Poppins. Eschewing any rock ‘n’ roll trappings, the trio are nothing but wonderfully singular in their oddness, and this sort of banter typifies their off-the-wall approach.
Primus – O2 Academy Brixton – 19 August 2026. Photo: Manuela Langotsch/MetalTalk
Truth be told, Claypool could have come onstage and recited a phonebook and received a rapturous reception from the adoring crowd, but both band and fans know that nothing short of their best is good enough.
The return of Primus to the capital has been a long time coming, having last played in the UK in 2017. So anticipation was sky high amongst those eager to see the El Sobrante trio back in their natural habitat, in front of a live audience.
Primus – O2 Academy Brixton – 19 August 2026. Photo: Manuela Langotsch/MetalTalk
Delaying their set by forty-five minutes to ensure that as many of the people filtering in through the O2 Academy’s frustratingly slow entrance system saw the whole set, the opening blast of Too Many Puppies saw huge swathes of the already roasting audience throw themselves around with utter abandon to its twisted and stuttering funk, the place filled with singing voices.
Taking a left turn with Duchess And The Proverbial Mind Spread, gloried in its fractured croon, Larry LaLonde’s guitar solo and new boy drummer John Hoffman showing their individual chops.
Primus – O2 Academy Brixton – 19 August 2026. Photo: Manuela Langotsch/MetalTalk
Such is the level of individuality of Primus that any academic analysis proves pointless in the setting of one of their live shows, and when dealing with Groundhog’s Day, a number that sounds like a wild call through a rusted jazz telephone from the 1930’s, the only option is just to give in and dance.
Whether you believe Claypool’s assertion that this is Hoffman’s first time out of the country and that the drummer has only just got a passport, library card and fishing licence, he has certainly fitted in well to the longstanding band’s family, his playing the perfect accompaniment to the bass player’s wildly inventive stretches.
With ridiculously sauna-like temperatures making the high-ceilinged venue seem more like legendary Wardour Street sweatbox club The Marquee, the twenty-five-minute interval was a welcome relief, but the band came back swinging.
Primus – O2 Academy Brixton – 19 August 2026. Photo: Manuela Langotsch/MetalTalk
The monstrous clank of Shake Hands With Beef and John The Fisherman’s spasmodic jerk groove soon got the heat pushing upwards again, a run into the sinister Mr. Krinkle seeing Claypole wearing a pig mask whilst playing an upright bass.
Things got even stranger for Welcome To This World, but as lively as the audience was, My Name Is Mud and the inevitable closer, Jerry Was A Race Car Driver, pushed things truly over the edge.
Primus. They came, they saw, and they rocked our bodies and altered our minds. The world is a better, more interesting place with them in it and long may they continue bringing their surreal visions and soundtracks to life.
A founding member of The Wildhearts, Chris ‘CJ’ Jaghdar had two spells with the band, the most recent of which ended acrimoniously in 2022. Here, the guitarist and singer talks about his eighth solo album, Devil, and the possibility of a third and final chapter with The Wildhearts following Ginger’s recent terminal illness diagnosis.
Devil retains the catchiness for which you are known, but does your music get angrier the older you become?
Yeah, and it’s intentional. I love punky rock’n’roll. My ‘safe word’ is country and western. If you hear that from me, I’ve been kidnapped.
Is it sometimes hard to balance the ‘fizz’, for want of a better term, and the fury?
Not really. I’ve always liked a good melody and the fire of a good, hard riff – the honey and the crack, if you will.
Talking of HoneyCrack, Prozaic, the debut album from your post-Wildhearts band, recently turned thirty. Would you work with Willie Dowling again?
Willie has absolutely no intention of doing anything HoneyCrack-esque. Which is a shame, as I consider that album to be his greatest achievement. He should be grateful for having been given that chance thanks to my connection to The Wildhearts.
With its lyric of: ‘When I tasted fame I got it all so wrong’, One Of The Boys, your new album’s first single, sounds worryingly like a goodbye note.
It might be a goodbye. It’s getting harder for me to find shows. That means I must sell more physical product to make an income. Thankfully my fanbase is quite old and still buys those things, but I’m still not sure whether Devil will be my last album.
It gets progressively harder for independent artists. To a new breed of ‘fan’, music seems to have become reduced to a mere commodity.
I feel privileged to have made a living from music for forty years, but I agree with that statement. Back then we had to go looking for music. It was like prospecting for gold. You don’t have to do that any more. It no longer feels precious.
On social media you recently admitted that if you could go back and pick up a saucepan rather than a guitar, you would.
It’s true. I come from a family of amazing cooks, and food has always been important in my life. If I could, I would go back and be a chef and you’d be eating in my restaurant right now.
You communicated with Ginger after he announced that due to cancer he has just two to three years left to live. What can you tell us of that conversation?
I sent him an honest and open message. We hadn’t spoken in three years because The Wildhearts ended badly. His diagnosis came as a shock, though I wasn’t shocked that he decided against treatment – that’s a very Ginger-esque stance. Although I said he didn’t need to reply to my message, he did, and with a really nice message.
I built a bridge between us. Whether or not Ginger decides to come over that bridge and meet me in the middle is up to him, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t love to get myself, Danny [McCormack, bass] and Ritchie [Battersby, drums] back together again to close the circle. [Note: Ginger has publicly responded to CJ’s reunion suggestion].
Sex Mask: Sex Mask EP (Unpopular Recordings) DL/Streaming only EP here | Raid plus Remixes here Out now Brilliantly named Melbourne-based noiseniks Sex Mask are currently earning significant word-of-mouth buzz – and here are just some of the reasons why. They’re touring heartily across Europe very soon, including […]