Obscure Olde Metal, Pt. 5
This fifth installment of Rhapsody's alphabetical grave-robbing expedition through metal history's lost mausoleum has a distinction that might not sit all that well with certain "serious" metalheads: For some reason, the middle Ds through middle Es yielded not a single death metal, black metal or thrash band -- or even New Wave of British Heavy Metal band, unless '80s-born, biker-beloved London thug-boogie pub regulars Dumpy's Rusty Nuts count. Two mid-'90s groups who only put out one album each might come closest to "troo" metalocity: Savatage-associated Florida power wizards Doctor Butcher and Blackpool, U.K., dark hearts Enchantment.
Still, a few other '90s specimens here might pass as "extreme" in charitable quarters: Jersey rapcore bros Dog Eat Dog; all-lady Swedish sludgers Doughnuts; industrial/alt/funk/noise clubs Dystopia One from New York, The Electric Hellfire Club from Wisconsin, Electric Love Hogs from San Diego, and Engine Kid from Seattle. Drunk Injuns, from San Jose, Calif., sound at least as unhinged as any of those, but a decade earlier, in proto-Slipknot facemasks no less.
Yet if anything, this playlist is dominated by the sorts of late '60s/early '70s acid/psych/bloozola combos often slotted as "proto-metal" nowadays -- many of them English (Dogfeet, Dragonfly, Edgar Broughton Band, Elias Hulk), plus Hendrix-discovered Irishmen Eire Apparent; Krautrock-bordering Germans Electric Food; early height-challenged Ronnie James Dio outfit Elf; and the bruising Brooklyn power trio Dust, featuring a pre-Ramone Marc (Marky) Bell on drums (among other distinctions). Boston's DMZ and San Francisco's Earth Quake were high-energy mid-'70s sandlot-greaser pre-punk rock of a less ornate sort. Melodic late '70s AOR blips Doucette (from Quebec) and DNA (not Arto Lindsay's superb no wave band, but rather Rick Derringer and Carmine Appice trying to go New Wave) and creatively apostrophed late '80s glam hair-farmers D'Molls (of Chicago) and Dogs D'Amour (of London) represent the False Metal Party, as do early '90s Norwegian rockers Dream Police, who apparently liked Cheap Trick enough to take their name from them and include a song called "Surrender" on their LP that isn't the Cheap Trick one. Hey, it takes all kinds – several of which this mix accounts for.