THE WITCHES
Universal Mall (Fall Of Rome)
Reviewed by DJ Johnson

---

I've come to the conclusion that Detroit, Michigan is so haunted that the general population walks around with a spooky aura without even knowing it. Put guitars in their hands and prepare for chills. (I figure Bob Seger must wear a protective helmet when nobody's looking.) Well, here's where you're expecting me to say The Witches fall somewhere 'tween Iggy and Alice in the Detroit spookathon, but that ain't so. The Witches are off in the shadows cast only by their own imaginations, radiating a sound that begins as nearly standard garage, probably just to get you to walk far enough in that you can't get back out before all hell breaks loose. I'm not talking about tight, power chording rock and roll here; I'm talking about acoustic guitars played in minor keys of sadness while a gothic bass line and persistent drum keep them moving along, and the melancholy voice of Troy Gregory telling what would be cautionary tales if only it weren't too late. I'm talking about PSYCHO-delic sounds that build and evolve and dissolve and eventually break apart with pieces of you strapped to it. All the instruments come back together for the next tune, a beautiful bit of darkness that reminds us in no uncertain terms that beauty doesn't have to be sweet. Then it's back to the mind games, this time music that conjures visions of some dangerous kind of middle eastern travel, presumably clutched in the talons of vampires. With Halloween still a ways off, this is just the spike in the vein I've craved. The song that's playing right now is phasing so badly it's turning inside out. Or is it me? I happily crank The Witches even louder and willingly roll under the pendulum. Let 'er rip!

© 2001 - DJ Johnson