Witchfynde - Stagefright
#425
by Luca Barnacles
October 1980
Witchfynde
Stagefright
Genre: NWOBHM, allegedly
Allen’s Rating: 2.5 out of 5
Rob’s rating: 2.0625 out of 5
Highlights: None. The uniformity of the mediocrity is flawless.
The opening title track answers the rightfully unasked question “What would The Decemberists’ Hazards of Love album (which I love) sound like as a This Is Spinal Tap (which I also love) sequel?” This is the crux of Witchfynde: a band hellbent on delivering previously neglected bad ideas.
To answer the question Witchfynde poses in the very next track, “are they doing the right thing?” no, they very decidedly are not, unless you believe the right thing is the product of a bizarre quadratic equation where Uriah Heep times some Lesser Thin Lizzy = whatever the hell this stuff is.
Wake Up Screaming is the least convincing Satanist stuff I’ve ever heard. I’d find Michael Buble’s confession of an undying love for Mr. Crowley more believable.
Moon Magic explores the previously lost territory discarded by a 2nd tier Journey tribute band stretching their legs in Van Halen’s backyard, while Trick Or Treat stands both as a reference standard for Pointless Noodle Rock and an incredible disappointment to all of us who love a good Halloween song.
The closing power ballad Madeline truly is, to borrow a phrase, “treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry”. Especially the bad, bad, oh so very bad poetry part.
In conclusion, Witchfynde’s Stage Fright album reminds me of a band called Pinch, who used to play The Cricket Lounge in Ashland, Massachusetts around the time this album was released. The most memorable thing about Pinch for me was the time my underage girlfriend barfed sloe gin fizzes in my lap during their set. I don’t even remember what Pinch sounded like, and that tells you everything you need to know about Witchfynde.
I saw Pinch’s lead singer about 9 months ago at the Ashland VFW. He wasn’t performing or anything, he was at the after party for my friend Bill’s Mom’s funeral.
The Cricket Lounge is now a commuter rail parking lot. But Witchfynde lives, waiting to be forgotten by yet another generation. Sadly, you missed them at “the Brofest warm up show in February 2020 at Trillions in Newcastle”.
https://open.spotify.com/album/30xfhKBaB10mGvccRWiaWZ?si=Esms-ekUS26B7hRXryb2Kw
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