There are wrestling fans who know a lot about the characters and storylines, as well as the history. And then there are fans who dissect obscure angles and the people involved and make an entire goddamn record about it. Those are my type of fans, and as someone who always has woven pro wrestling into this metal site, it’s a no-brainer to cover.
Mountain of Smoke play muddy, fiery, grimaced doom metal, and before this moment, their focus was on science fiction films including “Blade Runner” and “Dark City.” But on “Blood Runs Cold,” they focus on a World Championship Wrestling angle from the mid-1990s of the same name that involved a series of Mortal Kombat-style characters that were nothing like anything else going on at the time. The band—vocalist/bassist Brooks Willhoite, multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alex Johnson, drummer PJ Costigan—focuses on the storyline that dawned with the introduction of the Glacier character, whose introductory vignettes bore the “Blood Runs Cold” line, and as things progressed, Mortis, manager James Vandenburg, Wrath, and eventually Ernest Miller joined the angle that was more of a mid-card spot that got inconsistent attention from the bookers. The band also shines a light on Chris Kanyon who played Mortis, a man who suffered mentally and lived in a macho industry as a gay man at a time where acceptance wasn’t what it is now. He’s one of the most underrated wrestlers of all time who inspires people to this day despite passing in 2010 at the age of 40. Now a crushing, channeled record immortalizes him.
“A Broken Man” dawns in thick doom shades, speak singing snarling, ominous feeling permeating your senses. Acoustics trace behind the chaos, burly punishment unfurling as synth whirs, and spacey strangeness leaves chills behind. “Blood Runs Cold” addresses the angle by name, Dahlia Knowles (Lorelei K) adding a haunting ambiance, the howls of, “My blood runs cold” rippling down your spine. The sounds turn mesmerizing, calls reaching into the distance, and then the drums burst, adding to the heaviness, sirens singing out and disappearing into the clouds. “Meltdown” punishes with howling vocals and scorching energy, the ferocity growing as the seconds tick by. Sounds continue to build as does the pressure, everything boiling off into a coating steam. “Lacerated” is grungy with sneering singing, Johnson taking leads this time, the pace feeling like it’s melting around you. The ferocity picks up again, moving rapidly to destroy minds, a molten, furious finish taking you fully under. “Flatliner” is animalistic and violent, sounds spiraling, an absolute wrecking machine that zaps into oblivion. “The Forbidden Door” has bass clobbering, the singing scalding as doomy, sooty winds envelop. Power rumbles as the sounds begin to fry, the pressure mounting noticeably, strange melodies teasing your psyche, the intense heat just hanging in the air.
“God of Wrath,” which focuses on Bryan Adams’ Wrath character, is earth crushing, warbled words and a swaggering pace taking over, punches landing and separating ribs. The sludge builds as noise fires up, hammering through thick labyrinths, washing out into acoustics. “Mortis” is based on Kanyon’s character, and it opens in deep fuzz, an elegant haze spreading itself, speak singing moving into gnarly growls, humid leads heading into the darkness. The colors darken as the pressure continues to build, synth clouds taking over and hypnotizing, a final rampage rushing out of that, ending in soot. “Interlude” is a quick breather as guitars scratch and stagger, smearing with disorientation into “Sacrifice the Saviors” that unloads with muddy riffs and glimmering keys. Beastly howls erupt out of cosmic zaps and a drubbing fist fight, the fire erupting generously as leads go more psychedelic, bleeding ferociously into “Pray to Feel Numb” where the bass instantly crushes your will. Howls rip open, the vocals later drenched in echo, the driving ambition gaining new textures along the way. Keys and guitars align to make your ears ring, meanwhile a new eruption pulls you under, the channeled cries slipping into the distance. Closer “Dead Mountain” feels properly maniacal, synth raising the temperatures, the wildness coming in waves. The chorus is simple but effective, the warped voices getting darker and weirder, the final gust spitting fire to the end.
As a longtime wrestling fan, it was a pure joy listening to “Blood Runs Cold” not only to relive such a strange, seemingly forgotten storyline, but also to get waylaid by doom with as many characteristics as the people in this feud. Mountain of Smoke’s dedication to this angle, as well as the homage paid to the criminally underappreciated Kanyon (by mainstream audiences, that is) cannot be properly summarized in words as the journey with the music pays that in full. This is a really cool record, one that does not deserve to fade with late-year releases and one that should find continual new life with metal and wrestling audiences for years to come.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/mountainofsmoke
To buy the album, go here: https://mountainofsmoke.bandcamp.com/album/imprinted
Meat Mead Metal 