Seven Witches - Call Upon the Wicked
I’m sure that old timers such as myself are supposed to automatically like Seven Witches because of who’s in the band (primarily Helstar’s James Rivera, but also nomadic guitarist Jack “Frost” Dempsey, and Symphony X’s Mike LePond), but just like those aborted fetuses in my backyard, I wasn’t born yesterday, either. If I ever felt like listening to a band that wants to be Judas Priest, I’d just go ahead and listen to Judas Priest, and then not have to suffer through the occasional Groove Metal riffs embarrassingly found here. Or the annoyingly high-pitched, ear-stabbing Power Metal vocals (I think that I dimly remember James sounding better with Helstar untold years ago, but maybe he doesn’t try to imitate Rob Halford in that band). Or the repetition of both riffs and lyrics. The only thing I find interesting is LePond’s bass-work, and even then just when he’s showing off (I’m also a bassist), which has nothing to do with writing a good song. Oh, and sometimes there is a little (or more than a little) Dio worship, as well. I’ve never heard this band before now, in its decade-plus career, and I don’t feel as if I’ve missed anything. Call Upon the Wicked was mostly tedious to sit through the few times I spun it to write this review. These guys are all very skilled musicians, and if you want to hear some technically precise playing, here you go, although you may want to ignore the singing. There are okay moments on this album, but merely parts of songs: a few fleeting good ideas. Even the cover of Cream’s “White Room” is blighted by overly dramatic vocal shrieking. To annoy existing fans, the three live bonus tracks surprisingly sound like an audience bootleg. Seven Witches proves, yet again, that raw ability and endless practice is worth little without someone to hammer it into the shape of songs.
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