Powerwolf - Lupus Dei
Do you ever have one of those records that intellectually you know you should dislike, but on an emotional level you just can't bring yourself to stop listening to?
I know you have a couple of those records. Think of them now.
Okay. Keep thinking of those records and don't judge me as I tell you how much I like Romainian cheese-metal outfit Powerwolf's 2007 record Lupus Dei
Let's go through the reasons I probably shouldn't like this record:
1) Lots and lots of goofy keyboards. Like, way more than should be allowed by metal law.
2) The cheesiest lyrics this side of a Lordi record. Once you're older than the 8th grade there's just no excuse for writing lines like "I come from six feet under and Satan... SATAN IS MY NAME!"
3) The dorkiest aesthetic a metal band could possibly hope to put together without accidentally going full circle and becoming ironic. I mean... look at these assholes:
Seriously. Fourteen year old girls who shop at Hot Topic called. They want their make-up cases back.
4) Singing so overwrought it would make Il Divo blush. It's like a cross between Madame Butterfly and Bruce Dickinson auditioning for Starlight Express.
That's a pretty long list of grievances I have with this record, right? So logically I should put it on and make the same face I make when when I see people jogging with their babies in those stupid running stroller things, right?
That's what I should do.
In actuality I find myself rocking out so hard I'm worried I'm going to give myself whiplash.
Powerwolf is just goofy enough, just rocking enough, just ironic enough, and just celebratory of the metal aesthetic enough to connect with me. They grab the little, thirteen year old metal kid deep inside of me and touch him like a priest touches an altar boy. I'm powerless to resist their cheesy, metal onslaught. They combine the most anthemic elements of the first Danzig record, Iron Maiden, and Cradle of Filth's first few records, back when they had some pretense to claiming to not be an abomination.
I think part of my attraction to Powerwolf (beyond the fact that Powerwolf is an awesome name) is that they use a lot of Catholic imagery. Hear me out on this one. I had a ludicrously Catholic upbringing. Catholicism, I maintain, is as much about a certain culture as it is about dogma and beliefs. Even though I have let go of Catholic beliefs, the culture still does something to me. I still get a little nostalgic when I see a holy card, for example. The bland, stale, taste of communion is very comforting to me, even though I'm relatively certain it's not actually being transubstantiated into the body of Christ. For a school project I've been having to attend some very old school Catholic masses every once and a while. I can't help but participate in the service even though I don't believe in any of it. I can't help but say the creeds and make the sign of the cross and stand and sit at the right times, and all. It's just ingrained in me. No matter how far I get from Catholic beliefs, Catholic culture will always be a part of my genetic makeup.
Powerwolf simultaneously messes with that part of me that's still really affected/terrified by Catholic imagery as well as that part of me that will always have nostalgic and celebratory feelings about old school metal. They take those two deeply rooted parts of me and turn them into a sonic second childhood which makes me feel like I'm in junior high again, listening to this cool new metal band cranked up all the way on my walkman in the back seat of my parent's car on the way to Church.
Now I freely realize that I will probably be embarrassed for saying I like this record someday. Someday, when Powerwolf devolves into some goofy goth monstrosity opening for Marilyn Manson or playing the second stage at Ozzfest, I'll have to defend my appreciation of this record by saying something about how they used to be way cooler than they are now.
I'm okay with this. I've gone through the twelve steps of dealing with enjoying a dorky band and come to acceptance. I'm coming out of the closet. I love this record. I hope they keep slathering everything they do with about ten tons of cheese. You know what else? You like them, too. You just don't want to admit it. Go ahead. Try and fight it. Go look in the mirror, though, and you'll see yourself for what you really are: a dirty liar who doesn't want to admit that Powerwolf is cooler than you'll ever be. Take that.
Just be gentle with me when we're walking around somewhere and we see some kid with zippers on his oversized pants and all kinds of white foundation on his face wearing a Powerwolf shirt. I'm already embarrassed. You don't have to say anything.
Note the anointing of the audience with holy water. That may not mean much to you, but that shit still terrifies me. Then again, I used to take my grandma's Christmas wafers, dress in a black robe, and pretend I was a priest and hand out communion to kids in the neighborhood. Yeah. For real. Go figure that I like this band.
