Hour of 13 - 333
Perhaps the toughest rating assigned in 2012, this third album from North Carolina’s Doom duo has me split right down the middle. Not since I ate an entire box of Jose Ole’s frozen tacquitos in 8 minutes has this reviewer been so torn. On one hand we have the musical mastery of multi-instrumentalist Chad Davis. His cocktail of Sabbath-inspired Doom, anthemic NWOBHM elements, and flourishes of Classic Rock balladry will intoxicate any hesher within earshot into euphoric fist-pumping stupor. It’s like St. Vitus and Angel Witch took soma and played a few rounds of Obstacle Golf. When he isn’t crunching out in-league-with-Iommi riffage, he’s dangling Maiden harmonies over our heads like keys in front of a baby. But it’s those jangly melodic hooks that really tie these 7 lengthy jams together perfectly. Davis knows when to be tight and when to be loose. (I’m sure there’s a joke about upper-echelon Vegas whores in there somewhere, but I’ll defer to Psycho on that one.) Then on the other hand there are Phil Swanson’s vocals. Where do I begin? He has his poor-man’s-Dio moments, and that’s about as good as it gets. Too often he sounds like David St. Hubbins spoofing Dave Chandler. Fortunately these aren’t “Bitch School” lyrics, as Swanson delivers occult and anti-Christian themes with conviction (see “Deny the Cross,” “The Burning,” and “Rite of Samhain”). However, it’s the inconsistency of his minimal-range nasal croon that ultimately holds 333 back. There are times when the singer hits his stride, but for every verse or chorus nailed there’s a host that are stumbled through. Repeatedly within the same song I went from cringing to singing along then back to cringing again. It begs the pervading question: what is the worth of flawless music when the vocals are only tolerable one-third of the time? When I think of what someone like Patrick Walker or Brett Campbell could have brought to these tunes I cum a little. Alas, that is not the case.
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