flashmetalcarnivore

Carnivore - S/T (Roadrunner, 1986) Current Gemm price: $34.50-$46.00 Price I paid: $7.99, Rebeat Records, Cambridge (in 1986) Worth: One Kevlar bodysuit By: Sleazegrinder _____________________________________________________________________________________
“I’m a meat eater, and I’d love to meet ya” You gotta understand that my fellow skin-tight soldiers in this rock n’ roll mission come from a decidedly glammier background then I do. I mean, the first time I met Pepsi Sheen, in 1992 or whenever it was, I was dressed all in black, like Darth Vader. Pepsi, on the other hand, was wearing a FULL-LENGTH FUR COAT, and a floppy purple hat. And it was like, 55 degrees out. So, ya know, when he and Adam go on about Vain and Tuff and D’Molls and whoever, I don’t even know what they’re talking about half the time. Although we are all shamelessly sleazy characters, my tastes always leaned towards harder-edged rock n’ roll. Hell, even the full-on glam bands I loved, like Wrathchild and Sweet Pain, were actually macho, fist-fighting thugs in pantyhose. So, in 1986, at the prime Teen Sleaze age of 16, I was not slathering on mascara and heading out to Narcissus to see the latest spandex sensation. More likely, I was drinking whiskey with punk rockers and thrash metal dirtbags down at the railroad tracks, and listening to Carnivore. Oh, there is no doubt that Carnivore was a Flash Metal Suicide just achin’ to be- their stage costumes were a head-spinning cross between Manowar’s fur pelts n’ loincloths nu-barbarian-ism and Slayer’s Satan-chic spikes and leather- but not only were they anti- “party”, they were pretty much anti-EVERYTHING. God, women, humans in general, the planet- you name it, Carnivore not only wanted to kill it, they wanted to eat it’s fuckin’ head. They were, in a word, TERRIFYING, both musically and personally. I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine, high-powered glam-rock manager Steev Ricardo, who had the misfortune of being Carnivore’s A&R man when they signed to Roadrunner in ’86, and he told me that vocalist/bassist and chief Carni-warrior Peter Steele (then Lord Petrus Steele, naturally) was the most frightening individual he’d ever met, and upon meeting with him for the first time, the first thing he said to young Steev was “If you try to fuck us, we’ll KILL you”. And he didn’t mean it metaphorically, either. ___________________________________________________________________________________
Carnivore formed in Brooklyn, NY, in 1983. Previously, Lord Petrus went by the more descriptive “Tall Pete” (the fucker is 6’6’!), had a shaved head, and played in hardcore bands, when he wasn’t happily driving a big truck around the city for the Parks Department (to this day, Steele gripes that he wants his old job back). One can only imagine the chaos of THAT scene. Along with drummer Louie Beateaux and guitarist Keith Alexander, they created a monstrous shock rock beast based on the principles of post-nuclear war survival methods (it was the 80’s, see, and nuclear fear was HUGE, thanks to our lunatic Jesus-freak president, Ronald “the bombing starts in 5 minutes” Reagan), which, apparently, involves rape, murder, and cannibalism. Everything about the band was calculated to outrage and provoke, from anti-Christian songs like “God is Dead” and feminist baiting anthems like “Male Supremacy” to an excessive, blood-soaked stage-show that featured everything from showering the audience with reindeer brains to Peter carving a crucifix into his own face with a buck-knife. Perhaps even more shocking, Carnivore also held no regard for genre convention, which was (and still is, really), a BIG DEAL in heavy metal. Theoretically, Carnivore were a thrash metal band (along with a fellow Noo Yawkers Nuclear Assault and a smattering of other future shock bands, including Megadeth, Laaz Rockit, Voivod, and Agent Steel, Carnivore were
often labeled “Nuclear Metal” by people who name such things), but half the time, they’d surge into a full throttle hardcore punk flail, or creepy-crawl through ten-minute long narco-doom epics, with acoustic interludes. And, you know, if ya didn’t like it, fuck you. One of Steele’s Asshole King trademarks, throughout his career, has been his refusal to kowtow to ANYONE, including his fans. But that hardly mattered anyway, cuz even if it took a leap of musical faith, metalheads LOVED Carnivore, right from the beginning. As a matter of fact, by the time “Carnivore” was released in 1986, the band was already legendary, thanks to the countless bootlegged live tapes and nth generation demos being swapped around in the underground tape trading network.
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	But, you know, I don’t have my box of demos anymore, and neither do you, so let us consider ourselves lucky that these maniacs actually made it into a proper studio, and that Roadrunner were brave enuff to press their insane bile on wax. Steele doesn’t actually SING on most of “Carnivore”, he bellows. He sounds like Frankenstein rattling his chains, or like Wez from the Road Warrior seconds before he plowed into Mad Max’s supertanker. I think the idea here was to sound like an ACTUAL barbarian, and if it was, well, mission accomplished. All this blood-rage howling makes “Carnivore” sound less controlled than it actually is, as musically, the band was a precision rock n’ roll killing machine.
Their overall sound was a hoary mix of Venom’s black metal speed-thrills and Black Sabbath’s lumbering acid-doom, with a nod to the heavy-devy biker fuzz-crunch of early Manowar. It was manly, brother, about as macho as rock could possibly get, but unlike their chaotic live sets, it never devolves into a nightmare of muddy riffs and feedback and mayhem. Instead, it just KILLS, man, song after brutal song. “Predator”, about people crawling out of their shelters in the subways and being eaten by, well, Carnivore, opens with the sounds of sirens and helicopter blades, setting the proper “Escape from New York” sorta mood. Then a galloping Venom riff (“Acid Queen”, I think) starts spraying like machinegun fire, and you are tits deep in a post-apocalyptic wasteland of flesh eating cannibal freaks. I dunno, I think the lyrics say it all: “Broken splintered bones, boiling blood/ Torn and bleeding skin/ Blackened burning flesh, melting fat/Amputated limbs!” Toss is a few maniacal laughs and a few pig squeals, and you have the end o’ the world as a ghoulish biker rally. Which it probably will be, anyway. ___________________________________________________________________________________
Their theme song follows. I don’t wanna give away too many o’ Carnivore’s secrets, but their self-titled song IS Venom’s “Women Leather and Hell”, right down to Steele’s Cronos-esque “Ahh, C’MON!” Still, the original was a motherfucker, and so is it’s clandestine re-make. And much like the black metal G.O.D.’s versh, it’s about sex as violence, with an added dose of cannibalism (Carnivore was REALLY into eating people, in whatever context). Most memorable about this song was it’s parting shot- “I live for sodomy!” which would have made a bitchin’ bumper sticker.
The 7 minute “Male Supremacy” would’ve gotten the Carni-boys burned at the stake if they attempted releasing it today, even though it’s not really ABOUT male supremacy. And ya gotta admit, that title has BALLS. Literally. Anyway, it’s one of Carnivore’s best songs, a sprawling epic of fuzzed-out doom (surely, Cathedral hadda pick up a thing or two about spreading half-speed riffs around like maple syrup from Carnivore) and hard-charging GBH-styled punk-metal, and it just fuckin’ ROCKS, man. It’s even got an acoustic interlude that features the first rolling “R” vampire crooning on tape from Steele, who would later make a comfortable living offa sounding like Dracula. Oh, what’s it about? Killing people, you know. “I live to war, It’s in my blood/The men I’ve killed, the children slaves, and all the women I’ve raped/ Between my legs, I’ve got what it takes to be called a man/fighting, feasting, fucking all I can”. Etc. “Armaggedon”…ok, I’m not gonna mention Venom anymore, so lemme just say it’s got some corrosive doom-riffs before exploding into growly speed-metal. Best part o’ this one is Steele’s mid-song command, which must have made the already amped-up Carnivore punk/metal crowds go CRAZY: “Kill each other!” I’m sure they tried, too. “Legion of Doom” is about a violent biker gang, so it’s no surprise that musically, it’s violent biker metal. Fueled by the crazed “Wang! Wang!” of Steele’s mega-distorted bass, this song is basically Twisted Sister’s “Under the Blade” performed by chain-wielding savages. Ah fuck, I can’t help it, man. “God is Dead” IS Venom’s Cry Wolf”. Play ‘em both back to back and tell me they ain’t. Carnivore change it up at the end tho, when they suddenly dip into cowbell-heavy, T Rex-y cock rock. Swear to, uh, God. _____________________________________________________________________________________
	“Thermonuclear Warrior” is a full-on power-metal extravaganza. Steele pretty much just screams out a manifesto of violence and mayhem here: “Crush! Kill! Destroy! I will smash any resistance!” as the band thrashes away behind him. It’s the most METAL that Carnivore ever got. Hell, it’s probably the most metal ANYONE’S ever got. 10 minute closer “World Wars III and IV” (nothing exceeds like excess, right?) starts out with a minute or so of Fear (the band, I mean) - “Let’s start a war!”- before it goes berserk, a balls-to-the-wall onslaught of jagged punk-metal riffs and derailed locomotive drums and Steele screaming “We hate this planet!”
Then it turns into ZZ Top-styled thunderboogie. Then there’s a two minute drum solo. Then there’s a nuclear explosion. Then there’s several minutes of howling wind. Then it’s over. Carnivore’s lyrical and musical excess, it’s balls-out biker-punk metal savagery and mayhem-minded shock n’ roll couldn’t even exist in these strange and terrible times, so believe me when I tell ya, they just don’t make rock n’ roll records like this anymore. And sure, “Carnivore” borrows heavily from Venom’s “Black Metal” (1982) and “At War With Satan” (1983), but let’s face it, so do you and I. I wrote a soon-to-be-produced black metal porn flick called “Women Leather and Hell” last year, and over-use the term “Ripride” almost as much as “Ugly Joyride” (thanks, Chemlab), so what the hell. We all have our heroes, even supervillains like Peter Steele. Of course, not even Steele could keep up this kind of intensity forever. Carnivore managed to squeeze out one more album on Roadrunner, the politically charged “Retaliation” (1987), before imploding under the weight of their own wickedness. Or whatever, I wasn’t there. Alexander went on to form the more straight-ahead thrash metal band Primal Scream (obviously not Bobby Gillespie’s hippy-disco outfit) and Steele emerged a cuppla years later with his incisors chiseled down to fangs and a new, goth-tinged band called Subzero. Subzero soon changed their name to Type O Negative, and the rest is Beast-ory. Ever the vampiric curmudgeon, Steele has been committing Flash Metal Suicide everyday of his life since 1983, but has yet to put the chain-strapped bass down and go back to the Park department. Fucked by rock, ya know how it goes. Further: Type O Negative -Sleazegrinder
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