The relationship between rock and metal has always been one sided, with metal taking from rock and slowly discarding the influences until any relationship between the two ceased to exist. When metal bands dove back into rock, the results for the most part were catastrophic outside of a few notable exceptions. Relying on the vocalist to carry a distinctive melody and composing simple yet catchy songs was ironically beyond the capabilities of even the more accomplished metal bands. Metal’s influence on rock on the other hand was always minimal and more of an aesthetic curiosity than anything else. Babylon Whores though are the exception that proves the rule. Starting off as a combination of deathrock and punk with barely noticeable metal elements, the band slowly expanded on their sound by adding more metal influences throughout time until they arrived to what can essentially be categorized as a unique deathrock/metal hybrid on King Fear.
Following in the footsteps of Celtic Frost, the band stick to simple riffs but with a lot of different variations. Guitarist Antti Litmanen breaks up the monotony that can be felt with straightforward chugging power chords by using various chords that are either arppegiated or forced into the power chord riffs. These evoke stronger emotions than just streams of power chords and and imbue the riffs with a certain unpredictable mystique as they feel that at any point they could go in any direction. “To Behold the Suns Below” shows this with its bizarre chorus that keeps building tension and never truely resolves giving it a strong otherwordly sensation. The band also use pedal point riffs to contrast the mid paced nature of this album, this gives more weight to the slower parts while also imparting a genuine sense of excitement on those passages. While the rhythms and shape are taken from 80s heavy metal, the band infuse into them an extreme metal approach by incorporating chromaticism and dissonance but keep the memorability through relative simplicity and by playing at a slightly higher tempo than the other sections of these songs. “Exit Eden” highlights this with its adrenaline infused opening riff that returns only to lead into its massive chorus.
Every piece here follows a verse/chorus structure but eschews the standard rotation between verse and chorus. The band instead build up to these epic choruses in unexpected ways. For example “Veritas” slowly builds the pressure with its blues sensiblities and slide guitar until finally bringing its anthemic chorus at the end of the song with no other prior occurences. The band does not generally end each song by hammering through multiple repetitions of the chorus rather by playing variations of it or transitioning into a post-chorus while a multitude of leads are played on top.
A lof of these songs are very dense in terms of layering with some of them even featuring them throughout the majority of their runtime. Not content with just guitar leads, there are variety of keyboard sounds ranging from a very convincing theremin impression on “Radio Werewolf” to more abstract ambient sounds on “King Fear: Song for the Damned” and more. Nik Turner of Hawkwind even provides multiple flute solos on the album. While the songs are splattered with leads throughout, they rarely take on a dominant role instead opting to create more drama during the climatic parts of these songs or to subtly enrich the riffs as background instrumentation. “Errata Stigmata” revolves a single melody that is used as the intro and the chorus without any variations but its constantly surrounded by complementary melodies that manage to squeeze completely different sensations out of it.
Lyrically, vocalist Ike Vil draws from unconventional sources in military history and western diabology to create these deeply personal tales. The references are in themselves fascinating as they draw outside of the mainstream canon of those topics but instead of inundating the listener with needlessly complex and stylized language, Ike draws upon the imagery to convey scenes of tragic death, alienation, the dangers of desire and weirdly enough inner transformation through alchemy on “Sol Niger”. Vocally Ike is remnisicent of a young James Hetfield, rarely straying outside of his comfort zone but still managing to create superb vocal melodies that brings all the imagery to life yet varying his approach from a harsh bark to a soft almost crooner like approach.
Ultimately King Fear avoids every misstep that tends to plague this kind of metal and rock hybrid by somehow making songs that work on the simplest levels yet with a lot of nuance that it deserves repeated listens. Their follow up Death of the West would lean too much into metal and ruin a lot of the nuance presented here. King Fear strikes the perfect balance and provides the best of both worlds without sacrificing either. A rare classic in a space occupied by old metal bands without any ideas left.
