“Now, we cower before thy divine and awesome majesty. We plead, we beg for change. Change, we pray thee, these bodies, worn ancient in thy service, for this youth, which we have gathered on your promise for sacrifice to your holy will. Hear and be merciful. SATAN, HONOR THY COVENANT!”
From the moment the coven’s high priest, Doc Duncan, played by character actor Strother Martin, delivers these words during the climax of the 1971 film The Brotherhood of Satan, the scene transforms into a blistering, doom-laden nightmare. As Witchthroat Serpent’s ‘Cursed Night Circle’ begins to emerge, the atmosphere shifts into a reign of terror, sending shivers down your spine.
Formed in Toulouse, France, in 2011, Witchthroat Serpent has spent the past 15 years lurking around corners, developing ideas in its laboratories, cooking up strange experiments, and carving out its own approach to the occult and doom metal scene like a powder keg ready to explode at any second.
The band’s discography began with its self-titled debut in 2014, followed by Sang-Dragon (2016), the Striped Dragon EP (2017), Swallow the Venom (2018), the split release Doom Sessions Vol. 666 (2021), and Trove of Oddities at the Devil’s Driveway (2023). Over the years, the French outfit has continued to develop its own sinister identity, combining crushing riffs, psychedelic textures, and occult imagery into a sound that feels tailor-made for the darkest corners of the genre.
That’s where the fun begins. With the release of their latest album, Demons Left to Roam, through Heavy Psych Sounds Records, you know things are going to get hotter, deadlier, and more sinister than ever. The band has unleashed a record that seems tailor-made for the Halloween season.
The artwork evokes the look of vintage horror movie posters, particularly those associated with 1970s horror cinema. It carries not only the spirit of Hammer horror films but also the eerie circus imagery of the 1930s, reminiscent of Tod Browning’s horror classic Freaks (1932).
The album centres on anxiety, retro horror, and the occult. You can practically cut the tension with a knife as the group invites you into its tent, preparing for a show that is about to begin.
Listening to this album, you can hear elements of Electric Wizard, Church of Misery, Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, Jimi Hendrix, Van der Graaf Generator, and Magma, to name a few. Boy, do the Serpents know their source material down to the bone when it comes to conjuring the demons that roam across the cemetery.
One of the most staggering arrangements emerges during the opening minute of the eight-minute track ‘Silver Bell of Satanic Ritual’. I almost felt there were nods to the opening song of David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (1972), ‘Five Years’, with its gradual build-up and apocalyptic sense of dread. There are also moments that bring to mind the experimental atmosphere of Bowie’s Berlin-era work, particularly Low (1977).
But once the guitars burst through the floodgates, the track becomes a massive, brutal awakening. The band then tackles an insane, in-your-face cover of Eloy’s ‘The Zany Magician’, demonstrating just how much they tip their hat to Frank Bornemann and the German progressive rock outfit’s 1975 album Power and the Passion.
The massive feedback and punk-like, gothic-cathedral structure of ‘The Blinded Magpie’ speak volumes about the impending apocalypse. Something lurks behind closed doors, creeping up on us as the blaring riffs burst through with another massive dose of terror.
The tension builds as the track drags us deeper into the darkness, setting the stage for a Giallo-inspired nightmare ready to unfold on the big screen. It is the kind of sonic assault that makes you leap out of your seat, wondering what horrors might be waiting around the next corner.
Clocking in at nearly eight minutes, ‘The Blinded Magpie’ delivers a chilling experience that feels like an alternative soundtrack to the world of Italian Giallo cinema. The works of Mario Bava, Dario Argento, and Lucio Fulci immediately spring to mind, particularly films such as Blood and Black Lace (1964), Suspiria (1977), and The Beyond (1981).
Witchthroat Serpent brings its own approach to the mix, demonstrating how the sinister atmosphere of Italian horror cinema and the crushing weight of doom metal can cut like a knife. The band’s riffs and haunting textures make the whole experience feel like a lost horror film, complete with an unsettling soundtrack that could send popcorn flying across the movie theatre as unsuspecting filmgoers get a taste of the terror lurking beneath the surface.
In the words of the tagline from Ken Russell’s The Devils (1971), hell holds no surprises for them. Demons Left to Roam leaves us wanting more from this French-based group, eager to see and hear where they will go next.
This album certainly isn’t for the faint of heart, especially once you drop the needle and let it play from start to finish. Witchthroat Serpent has once again opened the doors to its own nightmarish world, where occult rituals, vintage horror imagery, and crushing doom metal come together to summon something wicked. Enter at your own risk.
