Black Friday #3: Danzig – “4p”

March 5th, 2010 by Oswald Hobbes / Comment on this post

Most people’s first exposure to Danzig, Glenn Danzig’s third best band (after the Misfits and Samhain), came via “Mother,” the boot-stomping, skull-crunching first single from the group’s self-titled debut. The video for “Mother,” electrifying in its simplicity, garnered major airplay on MTV and cemented the band’s reputation as first-class bruisers of the Satanic old school. I was born a little bit late for all that, though, and my first taste of Danzig’s cartoonishly excellent brand of double-devil-horns rawk came courtesy of this cheesetastic video for “Cantspeak,” the under-performing first single from 4p. To wit:

I came across the “Cantspeak” video innocently enough -- I was channel-surfing at 2am while staying at my grandmother’s house as my parents honeymooned in the Virgin Islands. I wasn’t even looking to sell my soul or make a major life change; these things just happen. I believe I was eleven at the time. But from that moment on, I was obsessed with three things: the devil, Glenn Danzig, and convincing my parents to let me bring a Danzig CD into our moderately Christian household. As fate would have it, 4p was the only Danzig album at the time not outfitted with a parental advisory sticker, and it was also the only one available from the BMG music club (surely you remember that old warhorse of the compact disc heyday -- thirteen CDs for a penny!), so it was the easiest, safest slab of devil-rock to sneak into my suburban bedroom.

I was disappointed to discover, upon actually listening to the contents of 4p, that it’s not really Satanic at all -- you could better describe it as “vaguely Druidic.” Also: “mildly sleazy.” With the exception of riotous opening shot “Brand New God,” most of these tracks barely even rock, let alone sacrifice virgins at the Altar of Almighty Evil. The lyrics focus mainly on power and pain, with the band’s distinctively Southern gutbucket crunch turned way down in favor of subtler, sexier arrangements. When I listen to 4p today, it sounds like the lounge music of the undead, and that’s a quality I find very intriguing and palatable. But in 1998, I thought this was mostly a lot of horseshit -- basically the Doors fronted by Anton LaVey with some weird s&m kinks tossed into the mix.

To be sure, the album is fully stocked with songs that should be bangers: “Until You Call On the Dark,” “I Don’t Mind The Pain,” and “Going Down to Die” all give the impression of extreme devilry. But the sad truth, for my eleven year old self, was that Glenn Danzig wanted to prove himself as a songwriter in the classical tradition, and 4p was his grand attempt to funnel his dark and mysterious mojo into a classy collection of haunted ballads. The scary thing is, it works. And I can hear that now -- this is slow, patient music that also requires patience from the listener. It’s not a total mystery while it sold less copies than the band’s more visceral early material. But 4p is absolutely perfect for bringing goth chicks back to your apartment and lighting some incense, which is (let’s face it) how must of us judge our music these days. (Right?)

On the scale of Danzig fandom, I’d place myself somewhere in the middle; I own the band’s first four records and, at one point, owned their fifth and seventh as well. But getting older means getting smarter with your time, and there’s simply just not enough in the average day to spend hours trying to imagine how, at any stage, faux-industrial atrocities like Blackacidevil ever seemed commercially or artistically viable. So I keep my consumption limited to those first four discs, plus the requisite Misfits and Samhain collections. (If we’re talking about the dedicated Glenn Danzig scale of fandom, I’m probably, pathetically a lot closer to the “full-on nerd” end of the spectrum; 1987 Glenn is on my list of dudes I’d happily pop boners with, if the opportunity presented itself.)

But if we accept that Danzig’s reign at the top of SkullFuck Mountain ended after 4p‘s release, well, that’s a pretty great place to leave off. Sure, shit can get a little Lizard King-y on the more elaborate masochism ballads (“Little Whip” is particularly egregious in this regard) but overall 4p is stuffed with moments of moderate drama and truly beautiful songcraft. “Dominion” ranks as my personal favorite, chiming and chugging like Black Sabbath getting head from Sgt. Pepper. And, as previously stated, “Brand New God” is almost the whole show here -- it is, by far, the greatest song in Danzig’s catalog, a rip-roaring stunner that gallops along at full-speed until it unexpectedly and miraculously breaks into torch-song balladry -- and then slams back into action faster and harder than ever.

Overall, I wouldn’t call 4p Danzig’s best album, but it is probably their most accomplished and mature. And the boys do make sure to rep the dark lord where it matters -- the CD plays all the way to track sixty-six, a bonus jam of creepy chanting. That should tell you pretty much all you need to know about a bunch of dudes trying to slow down and sex up their sound -- they still had the time and inclination to stick a track sixty-six on there. Glory be to Satan.

(Here at AssaultBLOG, we love heavy metal. Black Friday is our monthly celebration of classics in the genre. Recommendations are welcome, so send crazy shit to oswald@assultinc.com.)