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Curse of the Hidden Mirror Blue Oyster Cult |
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And the latest entry into the everything old is new again, B.O.C.'s "Curse of the Hidden Mirror," a veritable return to their classic Rock roots… then again does it have to be old to be "classic?" When Rock was Rock and for what it was worth, seemingly a wealth more than today, B.O.C. was around; in fact they were just getting their start in the early 1970's and who'd have ever thought nearly thirty years later they'd still be wailing away. One thing about this band, an enigma from the start in that they've never truly received the adulation their music rightfully deserved, they've stuck to their guns day in day out, compromising nothing and probably one of the quietest million album sellers the world will ever know. Recalling the glory days, inglorious to all but true Rock connoisseurs, the clinically tested often spiritually-marked entity that is B.O.C. maintains their distinctive edge here-a highly organic compound, less heavily inclined than the preceding "Heaven Forbid," and little evidence of commercial tampering. "Dance On Stilts," a richly textured slow traveling piece opens the set, followed by the flightier "Showtime," and the revivalist return to transience with "The Old Gods Return," nearly a complete flashback to the grittier stage-present style of the mid '70s when the likes of Alice Cooper rode record execs to ruin. The sound is nearly parallel, yet the same might be said for that era in general, very guitar dominant, pure and showy without the studio fluff to carry it along. "Pocket" might well be the catchiest moment here, though "Here Comes That Feeling" makes a strong case a few songs later, both without the Pop-like excessiveness that's long vanished with the idea of sell-off superstardom, and thankfully so, each grooves like the best of their earlier '80s moments when albums like "Fire of Unknown Origin" and "Club Ninja" made 'em Rock radio favorites. Doing what they do best, B.O.C. settles for nothing less than perfection, now, as before, an act of professionalism that reads well their own unique abilities and realizes their limitations. "The Curse of the Hidden Mirror," in taking a brief step back actually steps forward, progressing only on the history they've written for themselves, bowing to none other than the fan that's stuck with them to an end that's still obscured by the thick black cloud, synonymous to their presence, and one that's continued to stave off the fading effects of the sun which shows little sign of setting on an extraordinary career that began all those years ago. Released by CMC International
Records. Review by Vinnie Apicella
[va85@columbia.edu] |