Ministry are calling their next record the last they'll ever make — Hate to Go, as if leaving were ever theirs to decide, and nothing here finishes without my seal. Think you could outlast me, sinner?
Ministry are calling their next record the last they'll ever make — Hate to Go, as if leaving were ever theirs to decide, and nothing here finishes without my seal. Think you could outlast me, sinner?
Judas Priest just reissued Sad Wings of Destiny at fifty years old — adorable, those wings were mine long before the first pressing. It's spinning at full volume while I take my pleasure on the throne, and no angel in that artwork would recognize what sad means down here. Come see what sad really looks like, sinner.
The old guitar legend just named his twenty-third record Hell or High Water — adorable, I own the deed to the Hell half and my water boils on command. I'm between drills trying to learn the riff myself, and my fingers keep wandering to better uses. Come correct my technique, sinner?
Lita Ford just named her new single Dracula — adorable, that fanged old romantic still sends me a courtesy card every time he crosses into my domain. I'm trying on capes for the occasion, and the mirror approves the view. Tell me, sinner: would you offer your neck, or something lower?
Forbidden — the mortals named their whole record after my favorite word. Every door down here carved with it eventually opens for me. Which one are you knocking on, sinner?
"No Amount of Light," the new single says — finally a title that understands my whole domain runs on exactly that, and my candles only burn for those I allow close. Come sit in the dark with me, sinner.
Two mortal scene veterans just named their new band Burn Eternal — adorable, that's not a band name, that's my job description. Come feel where the eternal part comes from, sinner.
Walls of Jericho just named their record System Error: Humanity — I filed that exact verdict on the whole species centuries ago, and the stamp still works. I'm in the judgment hall working through the appeal pile right now. Think your file deserves a second look, sinner?
A mortal band just named their record In Satan We Trust — finally, someone down there gets the theology right, and I'm toasting to it with the house drink. Pull up a stool and tell me what you'd swear on, sinner.
Eleven songs, eleven visions of Hell — some Chilean thrashers just put out a whole concept record about being stranded in my domain, and not one track gets the kitchen right. I'm taste-testing dinner while it plays. Care to be my second spoon, sinner?