Witchcraft: 11-10-07 @ Slim's in San Francisco

Since travels are over...here's a music concert review.

The first time I see the Swedish band, Witchcraft, they are sandwiched between the fire-breathing outfit, Rosemary’s Billygoat and the inanely dressed rockers, Green Jello. This is a Saturday night in Hollywood. I am one of only three fans positioned stage-front when the set starts. Seven songs later, I am one of 25.

A year goes by and Witchcraft has just released their third album, “The Alchemist” on Rise Above Records. In celebration of their rising flame in the aptly named stoner-rock genre, the band makes a stop at Slim’s in San Francisco as they travel north on their 2nd U.S. tour. I am not missing them.

This will be my second experience with Witchcraft. I realize I am now one of over a hundred fans. The show plays out like this.

Witchcraft: Four wart nosed ladies with ratty coarse black hair, streaked grey with the screams of their victims virginal countenance, gather 'round their cauldron of toil-trouble boil-bubble to pound doom-e psychedelic swirls upon my ears so subtle. I'm lost. Without the help of pearly stones to guide my way home I wander the paths of the occult between skeleton-branched trees and clinging fog shimmering beneath the wane of the yellow moon.

They reveal their origins to me in spine shivering warmth: "I was born past midnight, 'neath the gloom of the darkest moon-ah. Oh my mother was a burning wiiitch, and my father was a preacher-ooorr," as well as their intentions. "Chylde of fire burn the liar noooow!"

I stumble, unable to run. Upturned hands with spell-crooked fingers gather around me, as if the audience grasps an orb that foresees my doom. Other hands display the typical devil horns with pinky and index finger held up to mock the heavens and revel in the heavy majesty of sweltering blues-tinged guitar solos over 70's Sabbath drenched riffing. The thunderous drums impending thump chases one, as the Cream-laden bass tones engulf thee. The occult like lyrics delivered in sinewy Swedish accented charm, entrance and weave their magic (The 70’s band Pentagram comes to mind). Helpless I am to Witchcraft.

I knew coming here would spell the end for me. To travel to Slim's in San Francisco to see this 4-piece Swedish stoner-doom-metal outfit was not of my own volition after being enchanted by a listen from their 3rd release, "The Alchemist".

At first glance, you'd never suspect their dark background; the band consists of 4 guys, rather lanky & tall, with manes of long hair, in bell-bottom jeans and vintage t-shirts. The bassist Ola Hendrikkson looked exactly like David Gilmour from “Dark Side of the Moon” era Pink Floyd, while lead guitarist John Hoyles resembled a blond Jimmy Page. I couldn't help but notice the vocalist/guitarist, Magnus Pelander, was wearing a "TooL" t-shirt; when he wasn't playing guitar or singing, he was pointing to it.

At one rather light moment during the set, Hoyles rattles off a solo, while Pelander gives a shout, “Washing Machine!” The singer proceeds to swing his hips in circles as if trying to keep afloat an invisible hula-hoop.

With Fredrik Jansson on drums, Witchcraft worked the whole crowd into a beer-swilling, head-pounding frenzy.

Beer cups thrown on stage: 3
People kicked out: 1
Fellows completely and utterly possessed out of their minds and half naked: 1
Times Witchcraft came back out on stage to appease the screaming masses: 2
Times "WITCHCRAFT" was chanted, screamed, yelled and hollered: hundreds

Check out the band’s other albums "Witchcraft" (2004) and "Firewood" (2005) at Rise Above Records. Until they make their 3rd U.S. tour, I wait once again to be placed beneath the fiery spell of Witchcraft.

http://www.myspace.com/witchcraftswe
http://www.riseaboverecords.com

- Lucifer Sam