There’s a moment… scratch that, there’s close to 43 minutes of moments… on The Earls of Mars self-titled debut album (Candlelight) where you wonder if this English quartet really are proper off-the-shelf-down-the-back-of-the-sofa-giggling-to-themselves-about-socks-and-pulling-the-hair-and-limbs-off-dolls unhinged.
It’s clear from the off that The Earls of Mars aren’t for everyone, nor do they want to be, but with their stand-up bass and From Hell opium-den Carnivale atmosphere, if they are for you, then you’re in for a treat. An odd, off-colour, unusual Wonka-like treat that may lead to unwanted consequences, but a treat nonetheless. If Tom Waits’ interpretation of Renfield (from Francis Ford Coppolla’s Dracula) was able to sneak out of the asylum and away from doing his Master’s bidding to form a band, The Earls of Mars would be that band.
Indeed Waits is a relevant reference, particularly for the voices of Harry Armstrong, who moves from Waits-like commentary to Danzig-howls and everything in between, both Jeckyll and Hyde, but as if he’s drinking different potions each time, with his Hyde a multitude of characters (one imagines at least one of them wearing a brown leather flying helmets and goggles) and personalities.
Flashes of Victoriana, Sabbath, B-Movies, post-Surf Rock, Devin Townsend, swing, Horror soundtracks (The Mirrored Staircase in particular), and jazz flash past our ears, stop and pull a moonie before being replaced by something else in an organic, unpretentious freak-show parade.
At the centre of the album lies ‘Otto The Magnificent’, a sneaky sleaze, and an 1890’s equivalent to Faith No More’s ‘RV’, until Armstrong starts scatting (the vocal style, we’re not talking defecation here) to lead the us into ‘The Ballad of Ben Ayre’, a tense steampunk-metal drawl, before the albums’ masterpiece, ‘The Last Glass Eye-Maker’, a dark, absinthe-soaked piano and bass-led tale, takes us on a journey of misery and mania.
Also featuring all 3 tracks of The Earls’ creepy and promising Skies Are Falling EP re-imagined, this back-streets of Victorian London journey is for those prepared to leave their inhibitions, and minds, at the door.
8/10
Steve Tovey