Sabbat preview

Sabbat
Pearl Room, Mokena
Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Before the Internet made obscure bands like Starz and Alcatrazz our favoritezzz, the rockers of the world grazed more or less on local feed. We listened to hometown Joes and touring acts who opened for these Joes, and we wrote off the bands Viacom swooped in to exploit. Now we spend our time catching up on third-tier Deep Purple knockoffs, total failures, unconscionable side projects, and Israeli black-metal acts. Yes, we are very spoiled these days.

File-sharing applications aren’t the only savvy tools that reward our new, omnipotent, light-speed “sophistication.” They’re just the fastest. If you slow down long enough to use your wallet, you might actually find a remaining record label that acknowledges our fussy time-machine perversions — with lyric sheets, glossy artwork, and fragile jewel cases to boot.

Sanctuary Records has reissued the first two albums of early British thrash band Sabbat, who might otherwise never have crossed into American airspace. The band’s first full-length, the appropriately titled History Of A Time To Come, wasn’t released until 1988, well after a flurry of essential albums by Metallica, Slayer, Anthrax, and Megadeth. The Nottingham, England, group actually formed in 1985 but were hobbled by problems at Germany’s Noise Records, which was busy fumbling the greatest power-metal record of all time — Helloween’s Keeper Of The Seven Keys Part 2 — by the time it got around to underselling Sabbat.

Sabbat’s spitty anti-sermons kept pace with the speediest of original Bay Area thrash, but their songs were just too wordy for the old pit, even if the records would have been distributed better. The band’s operatic flair — particularly lead singer Martin Walkyier’s frilly vamping — wasn’t a match for thrashers who were rightly sick to death of all things glam. Their first single was actually a Tolkienesque flexidisc for British role-playing magazine White Dwarf — so nerdy — but with distance comes fair appreciation. Guitarist Andy Sneap has become a prominent studio engineer, helping record or mix stellar albums by Megadeth, Opeth, Trivium, and many other heavyweights. His tear-out-the-chairs mosh bits on “Behind The Crooked Cross” from the first album are totally infectious — the best repetitive stress a headbanger could imagine, especially when Walkyier shouts, “This is a black day for England!” and lets the band’s twin-guitar harmonies soar.

British magazine Terrorizer recently called Sabbat the “missing link between Venom and Cradle [Of Filth],” and it was actually Cradle frontman Dani Filth who asked them to reunite in 2006 after a 16-year break. In support of these reissues, Sabbat are making their first trek to the United States, playing just four shows. Start the circle pit: This is a black day for Mokena!

– Mike Meyer

Category: Stage Buzz, Weekly