It’s pretty much an unimpeachable statement to say that the first four Danzig records are completely flawless and by the time they made Danzig: 4 that they were possibly the greatest quartet in rock. And, like all good things, that was that. The “classic” lineup that held together the last part of (pre-Danzig band) Samhain’s life as well as four full lengths, dissolved in a cloud of the usual reasons, shit that’s been discussed elsewhere probably more eloquently than I’m willing to. But, for devotees of the band, this was similar to how fans felt when the Beatles broke up. At least I guess so, I hadn’t really put that thought into words until right now but let’s run with it.
If you were familiar with Glenn Danzig’s trajectory over the years then you knew not to be surprised with how he landed but even the most open minded were shocked at his next record, 5: Blackacidevil. It was a complete shift in sound, from the whole “Evil Elvis” blues dirges of self-titled debut through Danzig III: How the Gods Kill, taking the experimentation of 4 and running it into the ground with every bad 1990s industrial/drum and bass cliche imaginable. I remember being so disappointed, it felt like I bought a shitty Nine Inch Nails cover band’s attempt at making original music. Fortunately, like any time an artist makes a record you don’t care for, there’s plenty of others who are making ones you will. And, theoretically, life moves on.
Growing up, Danzig was my first entry into genuinely dark and evil music. Sure, I had Ozzy tapes, but my first musical obsession came in the form of cutting my teeth on early ’90s grunge. My first memorable experience at an indie record store was one of the employees seeing I was buying a Danzig CD and pulling me aside to introduce me to the larger musical world of Glenn Danzig. Misfits, Samhain, that first Black Aria record; these were all exponentially impactful experiences for me. Danzig would also be the first time I experienced one of my favorite bands go completely off script and change formulas.
Just for the record, I decided to give Blackacidevil a listen to refresh my memory almost 30 years later, to see if any of it grew on me, and wow, nope. It’s fucking indefensible, even as a document of the time. Aged like an open bottle of wine, it’s almost as though whoever was recording it just moved the dials all the way up and went out for a cigarette and never came back.
A few years later I was working at a local college radio station when a promo for the sixth Danzig record came through. This time around my expectations were more grounded in reality but Satan’s Child ended up being a surprise. Sure, it was closer to Ministry’s Psalm 69 than any of the first four records, but it was more reigned in than its predecessor, as if whoever was behind the mixing board actually was paying attention this time.
Another difference to Blackacidevil is this time there’s more room for Danzig’s vocals, thanks to better song writing. Opening with “Five Finger Crawl”, a mixture of the aforementioned Ministry’s “N.W.O.” with mid-’90s Killing Joke and even moments of Danzig 4, it gives Glenn a chance to show his vocal range, which was a strong opening statement since it was rumored that he had lost some of the strength in his pipes. By the third song, “Lilin,” it’s evident that the swagger and confidence Danzig traditionally exuded was still very much alive in this new direction. I was very much back on board.
By the time 6:66 was released, I had been doing radio for a few years and because of this I was afforded the opportunity to do some pretty cool interviews and, unless I personally knew the artist, each one was nerve wracking in their own way but none of them were as intimidating as when I was offered an hour with Glenn Danzig. I don’t remember who was working his record then but it was the only time before or since that I was given a list of prerequisites regarding an interview, the kind of cliche’ you’d expect in the 1980s when people still gave a shit about radio. I was warned that Glenn could be abrupt, end the call at any time, refuse to answer questions etc. A grump, basically. Oh! And, for the love of God, under no circumstances was I to bring up The Misfits. So, I was going to be speaking to one of my heroes, but I had a roadmap of what to avoid, and honestly losing my virginity was less anxiety inducing (or interesting, as I’d come to find out, no pun intended) so when the day came, I was as prepared as I’d ever been.
So how was it? Fucking fine. For all the hullabaloo surrounding the character of Glenn Danzig being a notorious, cantankerous man, I found him to be one of the most affable and interesting people I’ve ever had the chance to talk to. No question irritated him, and he spoke at length about his entire career, including telling me I could ask him Misfits questions at the end. This is one of the earliest experiences I can remember where I learned to distrust “industry” people and to let the artist guide a conversation. I know that somewhere in the mess of my office is a box with old radio shows of mine and he’s on one of them. One day I hope to find it and put it online. One day I hope to be rich and handsome, as well.
The entire record is an excellent cross section of various styles that Danzig had been involved in over his career. I had thought that going back to it after not listening to it for twenty or so years, my obviously matured and refined ears would find it to be dated, a move towards a Rob Zombie-esque nu metal sound. I’ve definitely soured on a few records that I dug that came out around that time period. So is “6:66” one of them? Not at all. Sure, I hear a few signs of the time it came out, a little tribal beat and stompy guitar here and there, but overall, I’m pleased to say that time has been very kind to this record. I hear more Killing Joke than Korn/Static X/insert band from that era here, with an industrial stomp that would make you look for Martin Atkins name somewhere in the liners. Moments I would describe as “Danzig 4.5” are scattered across the record, which I’m now of the opinion is the last “great” Danzig album.
To promote the album, Danzig went on tour with a very special opening act: Samhain. This ended up being the only time (so far) I’ve ever had a chance to see Danzig live, as well as the last time any Samhain material would be (officially) re-released. I’ve written about that before as well as Samhain being an absolute revelation for a young Master Jameson but I’ve never really touched on Danzig’s performance. I had been told by some friends who caught him earlier that he sounded like shit live but nothing was further from the truth, and it ended up being one of the best shows I had (and have) ever seen, which I know to be genuine because I didn’t start abusing drugs until a few years later.
So, as we now celebrate Halloween, I know many of you will share either the Misfits or Samhain versions of “Halloween” on your social media feeds or pull out those (and the first four Danzig) records, but this year I’m giving the recommendation of adding the sixth Danzig album, it’s a lot better than you might remember.
