All this week, I've been dealing with this disorienting pressure in my head, like a balloon behind my forehead that wouldn't quit swelling. Well, that balloon finally popped Thursday night, leaving me with a nasty sinus infection. Chills, body aches, fever, the whole nine yards. The one upshot of this has been the cinematic fever dreams I have been having during my extensive bouts of hibernation. Visions of dark forests and abandoned homesteads populated by monstrous beasts with gnashing teeth and glowing red eyes that hunt the poor bastards my brain subjugates to these situations. It's like being treated to a new horror movie every time I fall asleep. Awesome. This buffet of ghastly delights has left me in the mood to talk about exactly one thing. The new album from one of the best horror directors of all time, Rob Zombie.
Rob Zombie is less of a musician and more of a natural force in the metal scene these days. The dude has been dropping chart-topping music for almost 30 years now, and that's not even counting his White Zombie days. Once you hit a certain number of years of being such a massive name in the music scene, you become an accepted constant like the rain, the wind, or the food poisoning you get from $10 all-you can eat buffets. Obviously, during that kind of run, you also go through some changes stylistically. In Zombie's case, we see that most heavily in his three previous albums. Since the release of "Venomous Rat Regurgitation Vendor", Rob's music has cranked up the psychonaut freakshow aspect that is his signature style. For over 10 years, it's been neon lights and puddles of blood inside a tattered carnival tent. Like the musical equivalent of Bradbury's “Something Wicked This Way Comes.” This latest record, "The Great Satan", is, however, a sort of return to form.
The album features much more of that industrial metal sound that put Rob Zombie on the map in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, you still have the distorted movie quotes, the nonsensical profane lyrics, and sound bites courtesy of Sherri Moon Zombie all over this record, but it doesn’t lean quite so heavily into that goofy niche of funk metal that Zombie has carved out. Think more “American Witch” and less “Everybody’s Fucking in a UFO.” That being said, it still positively kicks ass.
Something we have discussed in depth in my column, “Dusty’s Deep Cuts,” is the law of use it or lose it. For those of you not aware of what I’m babbling about, this means that when it comes to musical talent, you either use it or you lose it. You dig? You can see this most obviously in the masses of aging rockstars we have today. They spent their youth honing their skills, then many of them spent middle age screwing around, not doing much of anything. Now in their golden years, the groups of their heyday are reforming for one last victory lap, only to find that they can’t quite shred like they used to. That’s because musical ability is a skill, not a gift; practice makes perfect, and abstinence makes a hack. So, why am I going on about this? Well, this rule applies not only to playing your instrument but also to playing your genre of interest. If you wrote a couple amazing rock records as a young person, then spent 30 years playing jazz, you may just find it now nearly impossible to write music outside of that genre you’ve taken on for the last three decades. We are creatures of habit after all. That’s why I find it so impressive that after 13 years of writing his iconic demonic-gonzo-metal, Rob Zombie can so flawlessly produce a record that sounds like something he would have released in 2003.
There isn’t a single tune on “The Great Satan” that wouldn’t fit on a 2000s Rob Zombie album. This man, who has pioneered something adjacent to his original genre yet still so entirely his own, is still so in touch with his roots that he can snap back to them as easily as I can put a crowbar through the window of a liquor store. The lyrical prowess required to write a song that is simultaneously as goofy and as heavy as “Sir Lord Acid Wolfman” is mind-boggling. I don’t think there is a single other musician alive or deceased that could do it like Rob Zombie does. He is truly a one of a kind rockstar. An artist unlike anything humanity has ever seen or will ever see again.
To understand exactly what I’m talking about, you need look no further than the album's second track, “Tarantula.” It opens with one of those trademark Rob Zombie samples, then kicks right into a tasty guitar riff. Zombie comes in and starts growling about witches, fireballs, and the god tarantula. He takes a little break to do some scatting, then right back into the hardest thing you have heard all week. I don’t know about you, but I could definitely assault someone in a mosh pit to this.
“The Great Satan” is 15 tracks of everything you want to hear from Rob Zombie. I have been bitching and complaining for years now that we haven’t gotten a new Zombie album, but, damn, I guess the wait was worth it. This album has everything I wanted on it. As someone who has been a fan of Rob’s since he was too small to ride in the front seat of a car, legally at least, all of my expectations have been met and exceeded. And that’s saying something because I can and will complain about anything. If you haven’t heard “The Great Satan” yet, why not? You’re wasting your time doing anything other than listening to this record. You can find it streaming everywhere, literally everywhere, like an unholy virus; it’s in your phone, your TV, your car, and your fridge if you have one of those stupid smart fridges. So, quit making excuses and go give it a listen. It IS the most important thing you have to do today.
