Blood Cult - 'We Are The Cult Of The Plains'

A bizarre combination of different musical styles built upon a base of raw black metal.

At first glance, Blood Cult have all of the appearance of being a raw black metal band. A suitably grainy album cover, pentagrams and other black metal aesthetics, and a spot on the roster of Moribund Records are indicative of a specific sound. However, Blood Cult have found a unique niche within raw black metal, and have branched out significantly into seemingly unrelated musical styles.

The result is a strange amalgamation of sounds and styles while still remaining true to the genre of raw black metal. However, I suspect that We Are The Cult of the Plains is not going to appeal to everyone, in particular, I suspect, black metal purists.

And it’s really a shame, because what’s happening on We Are The Cult of the Plains really is unique. First of all, Blood Cult employ the requisite grainy, low-fi production values common in the genre with thin guitars and grating, wet sounding vocals that are rasped, screamed, and growled. However, the black metal base is vastly expanded upon with excursions into hillbilly hootenanny, psychedelic space rock a la The Grateful Dead, and even surf rock for good measure.

The album begins, however, in a traditional manner with “My Forest Home,” a song that employs the usual structure of raw black metal with a fast paced blast and rapidly strummed guitars. Things wildly digress from here, though, with “Devil’s Sabbath,” a bizarre excursion into late ‘60s/ early ‘70s, blues-laced rock. Things completely go off the rails, however, and Blood Cult really never look back with the third song, “Ludi Ceriales.” A strange mix of psychedelics similar to the mesmerizing jams of The Grateful Dead, and an almost folk rock beat prevails; hence, my earlier comparisons to hillbilly hootenanny.

The rest of the album, more or less, continues in this fashion, although periodic digressions into surf rock (the wonderfully named “Illinoisan Altar”) occur before returning, full circle, to raw black metal (well, sort of) with the album’s closer, “Never Said Goodbye”. Throughout it all, the bizarre mess is all held together with some seriously strong songwriting, resulting in a wildly successful album that’s highly infectious.

I fear, though, that a lot of people won’t give this album a chance. I, too, recoiled somewhat, as “Devil’s Sabbath” played; however, by the end of “Ludi Ceriales,” I was hooked. Perhaps you will be, too. Highly recommended.

Disclosure: A review copy was provided by the publisher. For more information, please see our Ethics Policy.