The Sword
Gods of the Earth
Kemado
Cutting and draining
How hard the Sword pose seems to be a bigger issue than how hard they rock. Naysayers note the head of PR steam ahead the band’s first album, Age of Winters, as well as singer/guitarist J.D. Cronise’s rock ‘n’ roll pedigree, and cry “false!” Twenty years from now the question should be, “Who gives a fuck?” If the music slams the back of the skull and massages the brain folds in the right places, scene politics mean fuck-all. If the Sword were the second coming of Sir Lord Baltimore, Pentagram and Sabbath, musical résumés and backgrounds would be moot in the face of face-melting genius. Instead, they offer up a solid enough record that will only continue to separate those who can be bothered to care.
Based on the completely unscientific polling I’ve done, the Sword are a completely polarizing band. It appears one must either adore their stylized retro-metal, or dub them boring poseurs looking to milk the subgenre for its transitory cool. As a result, it’s a bit surprising to find that Gods of the Earth is even an OK record. My mind was neither blown, nor sent comatose. Riff rock needs riffs, and these guys strangle their fair share from their guitars. Most of the songs meld doom guitars to ’80s thrash tempos and energy.
The lack of a lyric sheet in the advance release I received may have done the band a favor, as their seemingly 1,000 percent serious D&D aesthetic didn’t offend. When there are only goofy song titles (“Fire Lances of the Ancient Hyperzephyrians”—holy fuck, kill me now) at your disposal and the vocals are appropriately turned down in the mix, you can’t become too distracted by tales of goblins, pagan deities and battles, or whatever-the-fuck that makes for awesome t-shirts but stupid lyrics. Peripheral scene politics aside, it’s the music that matters and the Sword thud and thrash in the right places. —Rex Reason
