#chuck biscuits

Black Flag 688 Club Atlanta, GA August 28, 1982

Danzig: Danzig II: Lucifuge (1990)

This timely vinyl reissue arrived in the nick of time -- and all of 35 years after Danzig's second long-player -- to save me from looking like a dishonest fool for posting an old bootleg (red wax, no less) in this space -- phew!

But if you're not aware yet, Universal Music and whatever's left of Rick Rubin's American Recordings finally got their shit together and released Danzig's first four studio LPs on vinyl, naturally including 1990's sophomore Danzig II: Lucifuge.

I only wish they'd replicated the old 'hairy chest' CD cover art and even more so the clever, upside-down cross fold-out booklet (see above), instead of the alternate, floating heads image, but I supposed that's what was used on the correct, original vinyl package.

In any case, of course it's the music that really matters, but such was the raw yet immaculate perfection of Danzig's eponymous first LP from 1988 that I wasn't entirely satisfied with Lucifuge, when I first heard it all those years ago.

Heck, I'm still not crazy about the first single, "Her Black Wings," where Glenn's occult-laced lyrics seem to force themselves upon the music's repetitive, erotic strut, and the video's non-stop muscle-flexing was a little over-the-top for my liking.

However, fellow hell-raisers like "Long Way Back from Hell," "Snakes of Christ," and "Tired of Being Alive" positively blazed with inner fire and boasted the same, elemental riffs that the underrated John Christ had been churning out so effectively from day one.

And I'm powerless to resist wicked, soul-stealing love songs like "Devil's Plaything," "Girl," and the satanic doo wop of "Blood and Tears" (with that heavenly Hammond organ), which blurred the lines between romantic and demonic possession, and earned Glenn his "Evil Elvis" nickname.

So I guess there's no skirting around the truth: my reservations with Lucifuge can be largely blamed on my youthful ignorance of the blues, which informs the slide guitar of "777," sinister drawl of "Killer Wolf," and especially acoustic Delta blues of "I'm the One."

By the time Danzig lurked into the closing "Pain in the World," I'd failed this early test in my musical development, but I stand here today a wizened old hard rocker and metal-head who now comprehends that all of it is based on the blues.

Well, all of it except for some of those imported, European neo-classical elements, but I'm not gonna make excuses.

Fact is, all these years later, I've revised my original mixed feelings and will categorically state that Lucifuge was no sophomore slump, but really just a notch or two below its unbeatable predecessor, and certainly superior to every Danzig LP that followed.

D.O.A.