NOW SPINNING: ANCINE'S DEATH HYMS

 

I'm always on the lookout for creepy music to listen to late at night when I'm reading, writing, or self-medicating from the horrors of being alive in the Year of our Nonsense 2024. Enter artist Mike Giallo, also known as Ancine, with a collection of creepy music that fits that bill. 

Similar in style to Lonesome Wyatt and the Holy Spooks, another artist I've covered a few times on this blog over the years, Ancine's debut EP, Death Hymns: Book of Desolation, treads similar ground while bringing with it a grungier and fuzzier experience.

From the artist's bio:

Morose, raw, and dark. From the land of H.P. Lovecraft, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and the birthplace of Edgar Allan Poe, Ancine delivers Gothic Americana with a decided New England focus. Mixing delta blues, dissonant reverb-drenched goth rock, and just a bit of Nashville twang, Ancine’s sole member, Mike Giallo, has created a visceral, yet hauntingly beautiful form of American roots music with a deep admiration for the macabre.

Death Hymns: Book of Desolation is now streaming on Spotify and Bandcamp for your listening (dis)pleasure. I encourage you to follow the artist and see what other nightmares he dredges up in the future. Could a Herbert West: Re-Animator concept album be far off? A boy can dread.

#HALLOWEEN: UNSUNG HORRORS: LADY IN WHITE

Every once in a while, a genuinely great horror movie—one that would rightfully be considered a classic, had it gotten more exposure and love at the box office—makes an appearance. It comes, no one notices, and it goes. But movies like this are important. They need to be treasured and remembered. If intelligent, original horror is supported, then that's what we'll begin to receive, in droves. We need to make these movies a part of the legendary genre we hold so dear. Because these are the unsung horrors. These are the movies that should have been successful, but were instead ignored. They should be rightfully praised for the freshness and intelligence and craft that they have contributed to our genre.

So, better late than never, we’re going to celebrate them now…one at a time.

Dir. Frank LaLoggia

1988

New Sky Productions

United States

"The bells of St. Andrews were soothingly familiar, even in those strange surroundings. It wasn't long before I drifted off to sleep, comforted by their ancient voices. ...It was All Hallow's Eve, and I, still locked behind the cloak-room door, suddenly felt a wind sweep through the darkness, chilling me to the bone..."

Nostalgia. That, more than anything, is what fuels my love for Halloween. It's just a day on the calendar, of course, and one which I anticipate more than any other, but it's also a feeling. It's indescribable, intangible. Never more has a day been so ably defined by an entire scene found in paintings, photography, or hazy memories — sprawling pumpkin fields, forests filled with orange and golden leaves, red barns with white trim and a scarecrow poking out of the cornfield around back. This type of iconography triggers a feeling more than any other. It's wilderness, rustic, and somewhat uncivilized. It's an outlaw; a misfit. Halloween wasn't born in the streets or in a book. It was born outside under the moon, in the woods, amongst people honoring something bigger than themselves (with a little help from the Church). And like most holidays and traditions with ancient origins, it doesn't quite resemble what it once was. But it's still the closest. It changed over time because it's had to. To me, it's become rural America. Small towns. Main Street. Crepe paper on doors. Dead and dying leaves blowing across front yards. It's the end of summer and the pinnacle of autumn. It's changing seasons and changing leaves. It's embracing the night and giving yourself to the dark. And it's opening the front door to the vampire waiting on your front porch, who cannot enter unless invited. It's not lighting jack-o-lanterns or brewing the cider or smearing the greasepaint across your face that beckons another October 31st into being. It's anticipation. It's simply wanting it to be here and not wanting it to leave. And it's facing the fact that, sadly, as you get older, the things that used to bring you so much joy don't seem nearly as special as they used to be.

Nostalgia.

When I interviewed singer/songwriter Lonesome Wyatt for a 2013 Halloween post, his answer to one of my questions has stuck with me ever since: 

"The idea of Halloween is much better than the stinking reality."

He succinctly put into words what I'd discovered over the years as I found myself one year older every Halloween. As the years go by, it seems I foolishly try to force Halloween to feel a certain way, by the activities in which I partake or the company I keep or the foods and drinks (and pumpkin beer) I consume. More and more I am learning that this, not for lack of trying, doesn't work. Halloween simply was, and I've got to make peace with that fact. Instead of trying to make it feel the way I remember it being, I need to look back on the things I treasured that were synonymous with it.

Enter Lady in White.

It was Halloween. I was in fourth grade. I couldn't tell you what particular costume I wore that year, or what games we played at our class party. But I can tell you, at some point, the lights went dim, a television on a cart borrowed from the school library was rolled to the front of the room, and Lady in White was soon playing in front of us all. Though there's nothing inherently offensive or ghastly about the film, it was still an unusual choice to show to a classroom filled with elementary school students, considering the film features the ghost of a girl acting out her death and being strangled in mid-air as she screams out for her mother to help her, backseat assassinations, and ever-so-subtle allusions to molestation and sexual perversion. I sat rapt, my eyes glued to the screen, unable to help but immediately put myself into the shoes of the very young protagonist, who looked to be the same age as me. He was shy, and bullied, and he had an older brother who was sometimes his friend and sometimes his foe...just like me. It was Halloween in real life, but also in the film. The scenes involving the ghost of the departed took place in a school classroom, the very same place I was sitting.

At that formative moment, Lady in White was gospel.

Frankie Scarlatti, small-town native and successful horror novelist, is going home. Not home to Los Angeles, his present, but home to Willowpoint Falls, his past, where he lived as a child.

Following a brief monologue set in the present, it's back in time to Halloween, 1962, in Willowpoint Falls, where two brothers, Frankie (Lukas Haas) and Geno (Jason Presson)  race to school on their bicycles — from their rural farm where three generations of the Scarlatti family live and work, through the woods, and down to the heart of their quaint little town's main street, where they call hello by name to the people they pass. Shopkeepers decorate their front windows with bright and cheerful homages to October, and fill baskets with candy corn by the shovelful. Much like the charming name of the charming town filled with charming, small-town people, it is idyllic; nirvana; perfect.

"What's it like living in Los Angeles?" the cabbie asks in the present-day prologue as he drives Frankie home down clean quiet streets strewn with autumn leaves.

"It's...different," he answers.

"Yeah..." the cabbie says, as if to suggest no other place on earth could ever feel like home besides Willowpoint Falls.

Back in the past and later that day, once class lets out, two bullies trick Frankie back into their classroom's cloakroom and lock him in for a Halloween prank. After beating against the door, Frankie falls asleep...and later awakens when he hears the soft voice of a young girl. She's in the closet with him, singing and dancing — and Frankie can see right through her. Soon her singing comes to an end, as she begins fighting off an invisible attacker who has slowly begun strangling her. She eventually succumbs, and the sound of something small and metal bounces across the floor and into the floor vent. Frankie is understandably terrified...and it gets worse when someone else — someone quite real — comes into the very same closet with a flashlight, hunting for the very same object that bounced into the vent. Frankie is spotted and attacked by the man, eventually passing out. He dreams of the girl he just met and finds out her name: Melissa. She's looking for her mother, she tells him. And then he wakes up on the floor of the cloakroom, his father before him, a concerned cop shining a flashlight over both of them. The school is swept for suspects, and Harold Williams, the janitor — the black janitor — is arrested, though there is no evidence to suggest he was responsible. He is charged with the attack on Frankie, as well as for the murders of several missing kids over the last ten years, Melissa being the first. A sad end, it would seem, but at least an ending.

Until Frankie realizes that Melissa has followed him home.

Lady in White is an old-fashioned film made by an old-fashioned filmmaker. From what I have gathered, the film is somewhat autobiographical, and because of that personal connection, the film feels very personal. It's also kind of a peculiar final product in that the story seems to transform as the plot demands. Criticisms lobbed at the film call its plot confused and its tone uneven. I can't really say I disagree with either, as there are certain unfortunate plot holes, and the two bickering Scarlatti grandparents provide really the only comic relief in what is a pretty dour and dark film geared toward younger viewers. It's a strange hybrid of legitimate horror, fantasy, comedy, thriller, and Frank Capra. And it's about twenty minutes too long. At times it almost becomes a game of, "What else can we cram into this thing?" Despite that, the journey you'll take with this film is a strong one, and there are constant twists and turns along the way that you won't see coming.

Lukas Haas leads the cast as young Frankie, making his second appearance in a major film (the first being Witness with Harrison Ford). Though he still acts intermittently today, his roles have been mostly blink-and-miss cameos, like his turn as a union soldier in Spielberg's Lincoln, or as Failure from Inception. In Lady in White, he's all doe-eyed, big-eared, and pixy-voiced; he provides all the necessary adorable little-boy requirements to make for a sympathetic lead.

Alex Rocco, as Frankie's father, Al, is awesome, because Alex Rocco is always awesome. His voice is instantly recognizable, and his presence is both reassuring and intimidating. He seems to be the only adult in all of Willowpoint Falls vocal about Harold Williams' innocence and the audience likes him for it. Granted, the mystery of the killer's identity is kept a secret until the end, but we all know from the very start that Harold is not to blame — especially with some characters flat-out calling him a perfect scapegoat. (Why? "Because he's black!") Rocco brings a lot of weight to his role and embodies that kind of small-town father unafraid to speak up against bureaucracy. Plus, I mean, the guy played Moe Green in The Godfather. No shit he's awesome.

Lastly, Karen Powell as the titular lady has the least amount of screen time, but the most affecting performance. She is at once hauntingly heartbroken and eerily ambient. Her visage pervades as an urban legend, but she is quite real, and her pain is paramount.

So much of Lady in White rides on the imagery either eerie and beautiful (or both) that writer/director/semi-autobiographical-film-subject Frank LaLoggia creates. Nearly every other frame of the film could be captured, isolated, and hung on a wall. Alternately, every other frame feels like the nightmares you had as a child. Special mention must be made of Frankie's dream about his mother's funeral — everyone there is obscured by darkness and not moving an inch, giving their fuzzy presence a disturbing and surreal appearance, but their sea of hushed crying echoes throughout the church; the spotlight is on Frankie only as he peers into his mother's coffin. The geography of his dream doesn't make sense, as it has suddenly changes, and now he sees his mother sitting in a chair in the middle of an unfurnished room, a pair of double-doors wide open behind her, allowing in the sun and a sight of Frankie's father and brother having a catch in front of a sea of cornstalks.

"Don't leave me," he says to her.

"How could I ever leave you?" she responds.

Cut back to her funeral.

Ouch.

Strangely, given the kind of reputation that Lady in White has garnered (some people consider it a classic, and it currently boasts a very respectable 6.7 on IMDB), LaLoggia only ever made this, the pretty cheesy Fear No Evil before this, and a 1995 thriller that looks as if it went direct to video. Otherwise he's been fairly quiet over the years, and I wonder why. 

Lady in White gets all the credit in the world for having the balls, the gall, the nerve, to treat its kid audience like...gasp...people. There are a lot of heavy themes at play here: racism in "perfect" small towns, death of a parent, child murder, pedophilia. None of it's ever taken lightly and none of it is ever cheaply exploited. Though one could argue there's simply too much going on within the story (I would not fight you on that), all of these themes never feel extraneous. A sort of To Kill a Mockingbird with a supernatural twist, what begins as a ghost story soon transformers into a familial drama and an allegory for race, and then unfortunately devolves into a rather standard thriller on which Hollywood depended and still depends.

The visual effects on display are, twenty-five years later, almost laughably outdated, but they're not undone due to their ingenuity and construct. They're perfectly geared toward its young audience, almost comic-bookish in their design.

Ultimately, Halloween is a device that kicks off the strange and twisty-turny events that make up Lady in White (it's Christmastime exactly halfway through), but the supernatural elements are consistent enough to safely label it a horror film, and thus, appropriate for some Halloween watching. What keeps me coming back is the healthy injection of nostalgia and small-town Americana for which I yearn more and more as the years go by.

Lady in White isn't a perfect film, but the ambiance that it creates, and the feeling of childhood nostalgia it set out to establish, is.

My thanks to She Blogged By Night for the screencaps.

REVIEW: THE DREADFUL DEATH OF EDGAR SWITCHBLADE

Edgar Switchblade is back with his third storied adventure and his second in book form. With his ever-faithful equine companion, Old Red, by his side, it would seem Edgar has been tasked with taking on and eradicating a zombie threat in the town of Cathedral Hill. The bounty seems easily satisfied, and what's left of the obliterated zombie remains are eaten entirely by the ravenous Red, but as usual in the life of Edgar Switchblade, things have only really just begun.

By now, the character of Edgar Switchblade has been duly established. He is a mankind-hating vegetarian cannibal (figure that one out) blessed by God (or he just thinks he is) who travels the land smiting any number of supernatural threats. He is a mostly irredeemable character that no one in their right mind should root for, but yet, author L. Wyatt knows his audience well enough at this point to be confident that, yeah, of course we're going to root for him. Though Edgar stabs and decapitates innocent people simply for getting in his way, oddly it's exactly this kind of anti-heroically behavior, as well as his undying loyalty for Old Red, that has us rooting for him anyway. In a way, Edgar represents the readers' desires to break free of the everyday and act out the most animalistic and vile things that simmer beneath our brain. The part of us that's "human" should be repulsed by Edgar's wanton disregard for anything the least bit civilized, but yet we find ourselves living vicariously through this rather rogue and rootless life that sees him and Old Red traveling the countryside, drinking to excess some Old Crow, whoring when the desire should so arise, and having the occasional bout with the supernatural. Compare all that to quality control procedures and itemized billing and TPS reports, and yeah, suddenly Edgar Switchblade's unscrupulous and murderous life suddenly seems all the more alluring.

The Dreadful Death of Edgar Switchblade is an improvement over the previous and introductory book of the Edgar Switchblade series, which didn't need all that much improving. While The Terrible Tale of Edgar Switchblade was tasked with telling a cohesive and current story while also dipping back in time to provide some necessary back-story on our titular character, with Book # 2, all that's gone to crow. What we have now is a rather straightforward adventure (or as close as we can get in the world of Edgar Switchblade) that sees Edgar teaming up with Old Red and Reverend Jebediah Hitchcock to take on the demon wizard Solomon Gorath. Along the way our trio meets Mary, who are comprised of both a shapely, fire-headed woman as well as her Persian cat, and together they become perhaps the most randomly compiled group of avengers ever seen.

By now the tone of the series has been handily established and relishes in unrelenting violence, vile disgust, and morbid humor. But really, even though there are moments of obvious humor, if you're not laughing along with the violent and absolutely disgusting acts that pepper this story, you're not doing it right. (For example, a rather sharp object ends up inside an unfortunate person's "anus" more than once - take that, James Patterson - and it's done to make you squirm in your seat and laugh out of sheer disbelief and discomfort.)

The painstaking detail to the physical design of the book - the undersized dime-store pulp novel with pink-stained edges that could be found on the lowest shelf of every drug-store book display in the 1940s/50s - is so-far consistent with the Edgar Switchblade series. It's such a fucking wonderful design that you wonder why more authors aren't doing it. 

As I'm sure I mentioned before in other Switchblade-related reviews, but which bears repeating here, the Edgar Switchblade series is an acquired taste. Very acquired. You have to be a little sick and deranged to enjoy it. Its mere presence on your bookshelf would horrify your mother and have the nearest insane asylum reserving a room for you in the cellar.

You can buy it here, by the way.

REVIEW: THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF EDGAR SWITCHBLADE #1: KRAMPUS UNMERCIFUL

My pal Lonesome Wyatt is one prolific fellow. The front man for Those Poor Bastards and The Holy Spooks never seems to slow down. And that's good for all of us. Following the release of his recent Halloween album (more on that here), Lonesome Wyatt is now presenting us with another adventure for his creation Edgar Switchblade, who appeared for the first time (in a "literary" sense) in the novel The Terrible Tale of Edgar Switchblade).

And now, just in time for the forthcoming holidays, comes Edgar's first audio-only adventure: Krampus Unmerciful.

Edgar Switchblade and Old Red are back for a revolting holiday horror blood bath of doom. Join them in their first audio adventure as they meet the legendary yuletide monster, Krampus. Hear them torture and punish the wicked ones on a dark and stinking Christmas Eve.

Krampus is an under-explored mythological being, so it's always welcome to see him pop up in the most unexpected of places. According to Wiki:

Krampus is a beast-like creature from the folklore of Alpine countries thought to punish children during the Yule season who had misbehaved, in contrast with Saint Nicholas, who rewards well-behaved ones with gifts. Krampus is said to capture particularly naughty children in his sack and carry them away to his lair.  Krampus is represented as a beast-like creature, generally demonic in appearance. ... There are many names for Krampus, as well as many regional variations in portrayal and celebration.

Krampus Unmerciful is just about as enjoyably fucked up as you can get, and in typical Edgar Switchblade style, nothing is left to the imagination. The story starts off with the titular character and his faithful horse, Red, enjoying a holiday dinner of dead children and boiled blood, before Edgar gives Red a gift: a bout of severed tongues excised from the mouths of the blasphemous. During this, Krampus comes to them and basically asks if they would do him a solid and help him slay the wicked that night. Edgar and Red oblige, because, of course they do, and off they go! Through the eyes of Edgar Switchblade, perfectly normal homes decked out with Christmas decor and effigies to Santa come across as satanic and offensive. Baby Jesuses are vomited on and little boys are decapitated. And that's just the first house!

Krampus Unmerciful is flat-out mean-spirited, but in the best possible way. It's the attack on traditional Christmas we all kind of wish would happen. (I know I do.) Not since Richard Lynch fired rocket launchers at Christmas trees in Invasion U.S.A. has an assault against December 25th been so over the top, ridiculous, and strangely satisfying. Running at a brisk fifteen minutes, Edgar Switchblade's latest adventure is brief, but packs a lot of gruesome grue into its running time. The violence wrought upon everyone Krampus, Edgar, and Red come across is unyielding but always absurdly entertaining in the way that Lonesome Wyatt has perfected. It's not a bleak little tale, however; the tone is consistently light, despite the gooey subject matter.

Impressively, the limited-run special edition vinyl of this adventure (available in red and green) is now sold out, and the thing doesn't even officially street until December 3rd. Luckily, digital downloads are infinite, so on that day you can head over to Tribulation Recording and grab your own. Also stop by Lonesome Wyatt on Facebook to share in the exuberance amongst his thousands of fans.

Lonesome Wyatt is slowly worming his way into my holiday traditions. Ghost Ballads has kept me company while I waited all year for that magical day of tricks and treats, and only last month was I also given Halloween is Here. Not satisfied with dominating October, it looks like Lonesome Wyatt has given me something wicked and wild to enjoy every Christmas season as well.

THE BOY WITH NO SHADOW: AN INTERVIEW WITH LONESOME WYATT

Lonesome Wyatt and The Holy Spooks are no stranger to The End of Summer. Having featured this delightfully dark musical act three times before, finding a new way to describe it/him/them is a fool’s errand. Fact is, I could very well use the whole “so and so meets the guy from this thing” and dozens of other lazy comparisons ad nauseum, but all I really need to say is this: Listen for yourself, because if you're not, I feel sorry for you. Though he made a name for himself with Those Poor Bastards, an act that infuses country and Americana with goth and darkness, it is as Lonesome Wyatt and The Holy Spooks where something clicked with me in a way that it feels legitimately special. Add a scratchy layer of vinyl grain and Wyatt’s music could easily sound as if it were plucked right out of the 1970s, where society seemed suddenly enamored with death, evil, and the very real possibility of the devil walking amongst us.

While on a break from touring, Wyatt was kind enough to answer a few questions about his newest release – “Halloween is Here” – his history with/as The Spooks, and his life as a seeker/celebrator of the morbid.

---

TEOS: I’ve listened to enough of your music (and read your first Edgar Switchblade misadventure) to recognize a fellow dark-side dwelling miscreant when I see one. What draws you to this odder road less traveled?

I suppose it all goes back to having a very secluded childhood with all those spooky cornfields rustling all the time. Too much solitude can make a fella a little strange.

TEOS: Much of your music is really story-driven – something Johnny Cash was always known for – so I hear a lot of his approach, including the dark humor, in your work. I also hear occasional glimpses of Timber Timbre and Tom Waits. 

Who else would you cite as an inspiration in your musical life? Was there a particular singer or songwriter, author, or perhaps filmmaker you may have discovered at a young age that made you realize this was what you wanted to do?

Growing up, I would say Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark and Gremlins were mostly to blame. I also remember getting a record called "Trick or Treat" by Oscar Brand from the library and that made a big impression on me. The songs were pretty goofy, but for some reason they really sent my tiny brain spinning.

Later on, Johnny Cash's "American Recordings," and Nick Cave's "Murder Ballads" showed me the mighty power of music.

TEOS: I can certainly appreciate your appreciation for the dark side and the supernatural. I've always been very intrigued by the paranormal. Tell me: how much of it do you believe? Do you believe in the existence of ghosts – in things beyond our understanding?

Well, there are sounds beyond our range of hearing and sights beyond our range of seeing, so who knows what we're missing? Maybe we're surrounded by horrible monsters and dead people. I sure hope so. I believe anything is possible and impossible.

TEOS: You are constantly trying new things, yet wanting to remain in this dark playground where your imagination is at its most potent. At this point in your career, are you consistently trying to reach new fans, or satisfying the ones you’ve already earned?

I try not to think too much about reaching new fans or how the project will be received or any of that kind of stuff. Of course I hope some people will enjoy it, but it's beyond my control. It just cripples you and fills you with anxiety if you worry about that. I try to keep things pure and create whatever idea I become excited about at the time. Hopefully it connects with someone.

TEOS: Moving onto "Halloween is Here"... I admit, and I say this more as a fan and less as a critic, I was a little disappointed the first time I listened to the new album.  I was anticipating something beautiful, dark, and more musically driven like “Ghost Ballads” – one of the new tracks, “Such a Fright,” for instance, is along the lines of what I was expecting – but it was probably halfway through my second listen that I “got” it – and loved it – and I realized you had a different goal: Instead of just doing a flat-out musical record, create this kind of old-school Halloween party ambience with flamboyant lyrics and quirky descriptions. And you really do nail that idea, right down to the perfectly vintage-looking album artwork. What other templates were you following when you were putting together this album? Who were you honoring, if anyone in particular?

That's always the problem when listening to a new album by someone whose last album you enjoyed. Your brain gets thrown in a loop when it's different than you expected. I just didn't think having this album really serious and quiet would make any sense. I see Halloween as more of a party for horrible things than a somber or sad experience. The whole thing is a tribute to all those obscure Halloween albums from the 50's-80's. No one makes this kind of stuff anymore, so I thought it was important to try to carry on the tradition. Hopefully it's not too insulting to those mysterious gods of the past.


TEOS: Your previous album as Lonesome Wyatt and The Holy Spooks, “Ghost Ballads,” is likely your most story-driven yet. The first track, “The Golden Rule,” doesn’t really get lost in poetic hyperbole – it’s a rather straightforward ghost story set to some pretty beautifully dark music. Listening to "Halloween is Here," however, it's evident you really didn't take this same approach.

Not really. This album is very different from Ghost Ballads. I think the only similar song would be "Such a Fright." Otherwise, it's not really as soft or pretty sounding. I was inspired by old Halloween records and wanted to try to capture that strange energy a lot of them have. There's quite a bit of group singing on this one. It sounds like a gang of deformed monsters. The rest of the album has stories, which were inspired by great albums like "Scary Spooky Stories."  It's really for all ages of creeps.

It was also important to me to make it sound and look handcrafted and not mass-produced. We printed all of the record and CD jackets on vintage style chipboard paper and I hand numbered them. The illustration by Strange Fortune Design Co. is just perfect and creepily vintage. I really hate slick, glossy things.

TEOS: Compared to previous Lonesome Wyatt releases, like “Heartsick,” for example, “Halloween is Here” has a sillier tone – not just in the content, but in the several songs where your vocals are accompanied by that sea of monstrous sounding voices you mentioned earlier. And on top of that, you add stories about werewolves suffering from depression, or kleptomaniac ghosts (from... Indiana). While the new album still has that patented Lonesome Wyatt darkness, it feels like you said, “Let’s just have some fun.” Was this a conscious choice? And if so, how early on in the realization did you know you just wanted to have a blast?

I just don't like doing the same album over and over. Ghost Ballads pretty much covered the gloomy horror, so I thought this one should me more rowdy and unhinged. It was my goal to create something that sounded like a bunch of crazy creatures having a celebration. I like to think of it as mentally ill rather than fun. Fun has some bad connotations.

TEOS: Probably my favorite aspect to the album is this kind of purposely implied feel that it’s something children would listen to at a party, but then at the same time some of the stories are pretty gruesome – especially “The Giant Fist.” So in a sense it sort of captures our fond recollections of Halloween (which more often than not stem back to our youth) and marries it to this kind of disturbing but quirky storyscape. It’s tough to explain but I think it makes the album that much more special – sort of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I'm glad you noticed that, pal. This is just the way I see Halloween. I think it should be both exciting and ridiculous, but also surreal and frightening. When you look at old Halloween decorations many of them were unnerving and disturbing, but now everything is smiling and cute. I don't like that at all. We need to return this holiday back to its peculiar roots. It should be full of creepy terror and graveyard thrills.

TEOS: What is it about October 31st that compelled you to construct an entire concept album around it?

I have always loved that odd Autumn feeling that blows through the air around Halloween. Everything is filled with death and wonder.

TEOS: When can we expect to see the first music video based on one of your Halloween songs? And if so, do you know which song you’ll be using?

Unfortunately, I don't think we'll have time for a music video with this one. There are just too many projects going on. It's a real shame. I think I have to slow down on all this stuff at some point.

TEOS: What does a typical Halloween night look for Lonesome Wyatt?

It's not a very pretty sight. I usually just stay at home and watch some horror movies on VHS and listen to Halloween records. As with most things, the idea of Halloween is much better than the stinking reality.

---

I thank Lonesome Wyatt for taking the time to discuss his new descent into madness, and I’m especially thankful for him having used Halloween as its backdrop. It’s always been my favorite night of the year for a multitude of reasons, but it seems that Halloween seems to be less celebrated and feel less important year after year. It’s starting to feel like those people who care about it belong to this very unpopular club that doesn’t have all that many members. So, my genuine thanks to LW for trying to contribute to it in some way in an effort to keep it going and keep people enthusiastic.

“Halloween is Here” can be purchased on vinyl (no it can't - sold out!), CD, and digital download directly at the official Lonesome Wyatt site, as well as your usual online retailers.

REVIEW: THE TERRIBLE TALE OF EDGAR SWITCHBLADE

If you catch up on my earlier post here, you’ll gain a little background on the idiosyncrasy of Lonesome Wyatt (of L.W. & the Holy Spooks as well as Those Poor Bastards). If I had to describe him to someone curious but unaware, I'd perhaps compare him to Rob Zombie, only I'd clarify he's a little more subtle, soulful, and genuine. This comparison isn’t just based on the oogy-boogy style that pervades their music, but also on their legitimate appreciation of the genre we all hold so dear in our little black hearts.

After having devoured all of Lonesome Wyatt’s albums, I’m not surprised at all that he can write the hell out of one wicked little novel. The Terrible Tale of Edgar Switch Blade, a tale of a knife-wielding, cloven-hoofed, cannibalistic miscreant who tears through the night striking down “werewolves, ghosts, and other strange creatures,” works as a companion piece to the album Behold the Abyss by Those Poor Bastards; themes introduced in the book are explored lyrically in the album.

Terrible Tale is told in the first person by our titular anti-hero. He does, indeed, tear across the landscape with his only companion in the world—a horse named Red—keeping an eye out for threats of the supernatural. During his misadventures, diary entries from a Ulysses S. Levitcus, his adoptive father of sorts, provide some background on Edgar’s rearing, and proves to be perhaps the most interesting part of the novel.

The story moves at a rapid race and doesn’t get lost in masturbatory details. It’s a simple story and simply told, but not without flair. Wyatt pulls no punches with what he’s willing to have his creation do—like eat his departed foster mother, for example—and I suppose it’s this kind of content that forgives the brevity of the novel itself. It's short to be sure—150 pages—but the story is never not engaging or entertaining. Besides, sometimes such subject matter works better in smaller doses.

Wyatt’s style reminds me a lot of Donald Ray Pollock (The Devil All the Time), in that what he is willing to write about is unflinching and unquestionably horrific. Pollock at times dares you to read him, whereas Wyatt knows his fan base quite well and he’s confident he is delivering just what they have come to expect from him. To be blunt, Terrible Tale is fucked up, but in a fun, EC-Comics-turned-up-to-eleven kind of way.

The design of this little novel is killer; great paints were taken to make it look like a pulpy dime-store novel you would have found in a pharmacy in the 1950s…perhaps on the highest shelf away from children’s hands. The cover, while not graphic, is certainly questionable in its depiction of Edgar threatening a prostitute with his knife as she lays sprawled across a forest ground. The cover itself looks bent and tattered, enforcing its so-called age; the edges of the pages are even colored red. It’s a remarkable little creation.

I hope Terrible Tale’s association with its companion album Behold the Abyss doesn’t prevent the possibility of Wyatt writing more novels in the future—either featuring Edgar Switchblade, or a new morbid creation. If he can tie it into a past or future album, great, but here's hoping he can go hog wild with a new story, even if it's not related to his music.

The Terrible Tale of Edgar Switchblade is available in multiple formats, and you can find them all on the Those Poor Bastards site.

LONESOME WYATT & THE HOLY SPOOKS

My god do I love this album. It is everything a dark-stuff loving weirdo like me could ever hope for. It is a complete embrace of everything spooky and ghostly and murderous and haunted. Brought to you by Lonesome Wyatt and the Holy Spooks (also responsible for the similarly dark, but more country-flavored Those Poor Bastards), Ghost Ballads is thirteen tracks (naturally) of creepy, atmospheric, and sometimes even graphic music. But not screaming, death-metal graphic, mind you. I've seen this artist's genre described as Gothic Americana or Dark Folk, and both are certainly appropriate. 

The stand-out track is definitely "The Golden Rule," which seems plucked right out of an Edward Gorey tome. The story of Mary Moore, a woman once murdered and brought back to life, who, with the help of two children, ax-slaughter anyone they come across. Other stand-out tracks are "Terror on the Ghost Ship," in which a sailor is thrown overboard and devoured by ocean creatures, and "Curse of the Poltergeist," in which you can use your imagination...

But what made me fall in love, truly, with this album was the inclusion of "Skin and Bone," which should sound familiar to anyone who grew up reading the often-praised Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark collections. The lyrics are ever in place as you remember them, now set to the perfect and eerie music. "Old Woman All Skin and Bone"is a traditional song and has been around forever, but it's safe to say Scary Stories popularized the song with young readers. Based on some of the music videos I've watched for Lonesome Wyatt's songs, I'd hazard a guess he was certainly a fan of those ghastly dripping books (as we all were/are).

The full track list as as follows:

1. The Golden Rule 

2. Curse of the Poltergeists 

3. Terror On the Ghost Ship 

4. Dream of You 

5. Skin and Bones 

6. Boy With No Shadow 

7. October 1347  

8. The Mouldering One Returns 

9. Midsummer Fair 

10. Haunted Jamboree 

11. Death of Me  

12. You Cannot Be Saved from the Grave  

13. Bone Orchard Rise

Given its odd-ball subject matter, Lonesome Wyatt's discography won't be found at Walmart, but the usual online retailers have this and the other albums (Heartsick, Sabella, and the first album Moldy Basement Tapes - extremely low-fi recordings made on cassette in a basement). You can also snag them directly from the band's website to support them directly. 

 

 

Lonesome Wyatt is perfect for Halloween, late-night listening, and when the rain is coming down. Though it may sound like I'm pushing it, it's not often when I'm able to find something like this that's not only well-realized and well-executed, but manages to appeal directly to tenets of my personality. This is not something I'd share with casual music fans, but only with those who I feel are...let's call it peculiar...like I am. I have a feeling I'm going to be listening for a long long time.

I leave you with the official video for "The Golden Rule." There's really nothing I can say about it except...wow.