A devil of Meatloafic, Sebastian Bachic, White Snakic, Warrantic, Marshall stackic proportions has taken over Metal Poets Society.
Incubating for well over 40 years, it uses Metal Poets Society like a puppet, a scaled and clawed finger in each of his limbs, middle finger for the head. It screams and a glam rock shrill erupts from the throat of Paulo Sergio Carvalho, nee Metal Poets Society, now The Devil Incarnate, now The Devil Himself. It brings forgotten memories to the surface, chews on them, mulls them over, spits them out; memories of when Paulo was young and free, roaming the streets at night with a beautiful woman wrapped around him; jealous memories, painful memories, memories of seeing Heaven in her eyes – the devil burns them all away, scorches them in brimstone, in a dissolving lime, melts them into a slurry, in a shot glass, purified pain, as golden as whiskey, and knocks it back.
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To read the rest of this review — and more by Steve Schmolaris — visit his website Bad Gardening Advice.
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Steve Schmolaris is the founder of the Schmolaris Prize, “the most prestigious prize in all of Manitoba,” which he first awarded in 1977. Each year, he awards the prize to the best album of the year. He does not have a profession but, having come from money (his father, “the Millionaire of East Schmelkirk,” left him his fortune when he died in 1977), Steve is a patron of the arts. Inspired by the exquisite detail of a holotype, the collective intelligence of slime mold, the natural world and the suffering inherent within it — and also music (fuck, he loves music!) — Steve has long been writing reviews of Winnipeg artists’ songs and albums at his website Bad Gardening Advice, leading to the publication of a book of the same name.
