Jerusalem - Jerusalem

Band: Jerusalem
Album: Jerusalem
Label: Deram
Year: 1972

Say, do you supernauts like heavy, overdriven riffage roaring out of vintage '70s stacks with balls-out soloing all over it? Do you think that nobody has ever truly done justice to the creeping dread of early Sabbath? Do you frequently get disappointed by supposed "lost treasures" of seventies hard rock when they turn out to be high fantasy prog-flute suites in the manner of Jethro Tull? Do you like music that sounds like it was recorded in a cathedral cemetary? Should a lead singer ever wear a shirt?

Give Jerusalem's "Primitive Man" a listen. This melting soundscape of brutally fuzzed-out bass and harsh, bellowing rock god vocals is less funky than Grand Funk and gets more medieval on your ass than Argus-era Wishbone Ash.

Now rendered little more than a footnote in proto-doom history thanks to a few dudes from California, Jerusalem crawled out of the primordial muck of the early '70s and laid one platter of arcane sludge on us grateful acolytes and promptly sank back in. If they can be said to have a claim to fame, it is that Ian Gillam produced the record. I admire his taste, because this record trumps Tony Iommi's similar pet project, Necromandus. Orexis of Death and many other albums that I have come across in my search for holy truth carry legends that are often much heavier than their riffs.

Thankfully, Jerusalem delivers a good dose of gothic atmosphere along with its miles of heavy droning crunch, as that crusader cover indicates. "Hooded Eagle" is a nimble crusher with enough instrumental twists and turns to pull in prog rock enthusiasts but never wimps out. Deeply indepted to the devastating power of Sabbath and the stark tension of ofter British rockers, Jerusalem would point the way towards future magickal chyldren like Pagan Altar and Witchfinder General, as well as the over the top myth metal of the NWOBHM variety as demonstrated by Maiden and Priest. Nothing here ever gets overly polished or technical, the sound is raw, and the musicians are naive enough to try and fail to pull off moves they've swiped from better bands. Their boundless energy and sheer dedication to tearing down cathedral spires elevates the material, and occasionally as on the stomping "She Came Like A Bat From Hell," they catch a shot of divine inspiration with a memorable hook too. Give this a listen and you'll be riding off on a charmed steed to Antioch to slay infidels on the morrow.