Rating: 8.3

Country: Sweden

Release Date:1992/2005

Track list:
1. Intro: Count Raven
2. Inam Naudemina
3. True Revelation
4. In The Name Of Rock N’Roll
5. Sometimes A Great Nation
6. Within The Garden Of Mirrors
7. A Devastating Age
8. How Can It Be
9. Social Welfare
10. High Beliefs
11. Frightened Eyes Never Lie

Band Website: Count Raven

Count Raven - Storm Warning (Reissue)

Christian Linderson- Vocals
Dan Fondelius- Guitars, Keyboards, Vocals
Christer Petersson- Drums
Tommy “Wilbur” Eriksson- Bass

Allow me to preface this with a perfunctory exclamation of frustration: these Count Raven reissues were a PAIN IN THE ASS to track down…for a reasonable price, at least. It took a month after release date for these to flood the usual sources (Brainticket, Stoner Rock, Hellride hasn't got them in yet), and each of these fine vendors were peddling them for a princely 20 USD and upwards. After much deliberation, I bit the bullet and ordered the first three Raven monuments from the fine folks at Rockadrome (don't mean to slot in an advertisement here, but they just may be the finest heavy rock/obscure ‘70s rock emporium in north America) for an extravagant 18 USD a pop. I got into the esteemed Count considerably late, having first heard the monstrous 'Destruction Of The Void' two years ago and 'Storm Warning' somewhat later, but my experiences with both have been so favorable that my miserly reservations were rather easily overwhelmed. Thus, I find myself here attempting to describe my luxurious purchases to you, the fine reader.

Count Raven, of course, have always been saddled with Sabbath descriptions, and while I have adamantly contested such parallels with the likes of Witchfinder General, Pagan Altar and Pentagram, I cannot help but concede that Sabbath's ghastly spectre does hover over this record (and indeed all four Count Raven pieces). Ponderous, positively PLODDING doom is the agenda here, all accented by the obvious Osborne-isms of Christian Linderson, who turns in a performance that suggests the heights he would reach with the severely underrated 'Terra Firma' and Vitus' overlooked 'Children Of Doom'. I have to admit that unlike most Raven-ites, I always preferred Lord Chritus' vocals to Dan Fondelius', but that probably has more to do with an emotional affinity for Linderson's work than anything else, for both essentially owe the same debts to Ozzy and complement the grandiose nature of the music with admirable aplomb.

Instrumentally, one could identify similarities between Raven, Saint Vitus and Swede contemporaries, Candlemass, in that all playing is very much “in the pocket” and individual flash is very much compromised for the sake of the composition. As such, don't come into this expecting ‘70s Pentagram, Sabbath, Trapeze or Pagan Altar, this is very much “modern” doom metal, streamlined and frighteningly focused on bash'n'bludgeon, a seething mass of barreling, clobbering sludginess that steamrolls through your speakers and satisfies all your preconceived criteria of what ‘'doom'' should sound like.

Indeed, don't come into this affair expecting Revelation, The Obsessed or Unorthodox, this is very conventional, morose “Sabbath worship”, as it were. Much less ambitious and viscerally affecting than the astonishing debut of the mighty Candlemass, but also a less challenging and more accessible listen, less oppressively bleak. The emphasis here, as opposed to the churning groan and unrelenting anguish of 'Epicus Doomicus Metallicus', is on relentless, blaring low-e-string chugging riffing. Opener “Inam Naudemina” milks an insistent, bestial riff for about a third of the song, and it works to marvelous effect thanks to the mammoth growl of the guitar sound and the superbly tasteful, thunderous rhythms that erupt underneath the impenetrable walls of mud. “True Revelation”, meanwhile, is the most obviously plagiaristic track on the record, being essentially “Iron Man” with a few notes rearranged. Hell, the robotic, painfully mechanical Bill Ward groove of the original is even replicated on this number! The grinding riff that bears its steel teeth 03:30 through the track intersects the droning, repetitious refrains and KICKS YOUR TEETH IN before the tempo gains momentum and we are thrust into a speedy, urgent whirlwind of headbanger-friendly, exquisitely simplistic riffing. “In The Name Of Rock N'Roll” is an anti-glam rock crusade soundtracked by trudging tremendousness, a monolithic demonic presence conjured to asphyxiate effeminate big-haired types.

Now, it must be said that things can get somewhat predictable with this record- this isn't the most dynamic doom record you will ever throw in your stereo, and at times Count Raven lack the gutwrenching emotional angst and conviction that provided a similarly single-minded record, 'Epicus Doomicus', to assert itself as a timeless, transcendental classic. Tracks such as “Sometimes A Great Nation” show a slight lack of imagination, Linderson sounding somewhat lethargic as the rest of the band hammer out the same 8 notes over and over again for an entire 6 minutes. “Within The Garden Of Mirrors” suffers from much the same fate, Linderson's monochromatic delivery failing to lift the rather drab arrangements of the band. Linderson is a GREAT vocalist and has always been, but I have always felt that even on Count Raven's finest moments, even when they fucking NAILED it (and they did with great regularity on the first three records), they could have benefited with a more diverse voice on the microphone. Thankfully, all wrongs are made right with the magnificently melancholy “A Devastating Age”, which makes tasteful use of keyboards to add emotional depth and accentuate the profoundly somber, bittersweetly melodic music. Every note counts here, the band delving into a sorrowful instrumental passage propelled by a whispering guitar figure and meandering bassline that is absolutely magical. Pretty great solo, too. Things really pick up for “How Can It Be” and “Social Warfare”, both pregnant with great riffing and smart, bare arrangements that work.

Bonus tracks on such reissues do tend to be throwaway affairs (I mean, there usually is a very good reason why demo tracks and outtakes were never revisited on studio records), but I'm quite pleased to say that the two tracks tacked on to this SUPERB reissue (liner notes, rare photos, the whole shebang, kids!) are actually quite great, “High Belief” coming off very much like Saint Vitus circa the 'V' era, in the more uptempo, surging feel coupled with astoundingly straightforward, yet rocking, driving riffing. Everything gains speed and shifts into a 'Statik Majik' era Cathedral passage, all groovy greatness. Wish Count Raven had exhibited more of this on some of the blander moments on the actual LP, really, this song is fucking great! “Frightened Eyes Never Lie”, meanwhile, pales slightly in comparison, though its largely uptempo nature also provides an interesting contrast to the fare presented on the bulk of 'Storm Warning'. The guitar sound is noticeably thinner too, sounding like it was plugged straight into the soundboard. Oh well, cool riffs to be had, still.

Now, I very much feel that Count Raven would go on to bigger and better things with the consequent two records, but that is not to say that this isn't a very worthy purchase for all maniacal doom mavens. It sags a little bit for two tracks, but really, really picks things up from that point. This would, of course, be the last record with Christian Linderson, who would go on to establish himself as one of the most underappreciated voices in heavy rock as Lord Chritus. Recommended.

March 12th, 2006