Voivod’s a hell of a thing.

When I came across their first album (1984’s “War and Pain”) in the old Tower Records in Tacoma, I knew I had something special. It took me years to fully understand it and by then the band had outdistanced me and were off to other planets, other dimensions and other bass players. I bought a copy (eight dollars and 98 cents would buy you a sweet piece o’ vinyl in those days), took it home and put it on the turntable. What came out of the speakers was not what I expected. But then, what had I been expecting? Another Slayer clone or third-rate Metallica? Probably. But I wasn’t very discerning then, anyway, and a third-rate Metallica was still better than the unholy Boy George/Michael Jackson/Duran Duran triumvirate that dominated radio and MTV at the time. After all, I did own cassettes like Thrust’s “Fist Held High” (with the non-classic “Poser Will Die”), Omen’s “Battle Cry” and even some band called Vyper that looked like typical L.A. Hair Metal dudes trying to go in a more Power Metal direction.

So, “War and Pain”…

Chances are I would have played it a few times and then sold it along with Thrust, Omen and Vyper to the local second-hand record store for dope money if it wasn’t anything special. But it was. It was more than special – it was unusual. To this day, I can’t think of a record that sounds anything like it (except for Voivod’s second album, RRRÖÖÖAAARRR, but even by then the band was already stretching its black, leathery wings to include strange bits of cybernetic horror and mechanized paranoia). The closest I can come is to maybe compare it to Motörhead on acid or possibly some weird Venom/Germs hybrid filtered through a science fiction junkie’s brain. It sure as hell was the noisiest record I’d ever heard. At times the band sounds barely in control of their own songs and guitarist Piggy’s masterful use of dissonant chords, echo-effects and over-the-top distortion makes his guitar seem like one of the machineries of Death that vocalist, Snake, keeps screaming about as if he keeps waking up in the middle of a nightmare only to discover that everything he ever feared has come true. Original bass player, Blacky (appropriately listed as playing “Blower Bass” on the album) rumbles underneath with the second most distinguishable bass sound in the history of Metal (number one being, of course, Lemmy) and drummer, Away (also the artist responsible for all of Voivod’s incredible and unique cover art) relentlessly hammers away with slightly-demented time-signatures in a post-apocalyptic fury.

Besides the noise, the second thing that strikes the discerning listener (or third thing, if you count the afore-mentioned amazing cover art) is the cohesion of the record. This is the debut album of a fledgling rock band—a fledgling Canadian rock band (not sure why that matters, but somehow, it does)—but already Voivod has tied everything together with an a character—The Voivod himself, a future-past survivor of some cataclysmic war—and a sound that never varies while simultaneously avoiding redundancy. Even the look of the band at this time was in unison. It wasn’t quite a concept album (that wouldn’t happen until their fourth album, the brilliant masterpiece, Dimension Hatröss) but it was a concept—one that the band kept throughout their career, varying it, tweaking it and updating it but never losing sight of it.

From the opening sounds of chains being dragged while Piggy pulls some volumatic tricks on his “Burning Metal Axe”, already something is different. The noise-collage that begins the eponymous track conjures up the nuclear war-ravaged, post-apocalyptic wastelands that Voivod wanted us to envision. Then Snake (simply and correctly listed as “Throat”) kicks off a wake-up call to all those who would dare venture into those wastelands -: “VOIVOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!” - while Blacky and Away steamroll us into submission. We’re off and we’re not looking back. We may never return. Ahead of us we have “Warriors of Ice”, the “Iron Gang”, “War and Pain”, the “Black City” and “Nuclear War” (again?!!!) to look forward to. The mysterious “Blower” doesn’t bode well and “Suck Your Bone” could refer to The Hills Have Eyes-like bands of roving cannibals or perhaps there is some weird sexual connotation there—whatever, it still contains what I consider to be the single greatest line in the history of Rock ‘n’ Roll: “Go, shit, I’m not a fish!”*. And the whole thing is summed up concisely halfway through Side 2 with “Live For Violence”.

By the end of the album you’re lying in a pool of toxic sweat, smoke rising out of your ears from overload, crying tears of blood…but there is a big, goofy smile on your face just the same. Then you flip the record over and start all over again…

In later years, Voivod refined their sound and stretched the boundaries of both their and their listener’s imaginations. The raucous, blood, dirt and machinery grind of their first two slabs of mammoth noise mutated intentionally into an amazing Prog-Metal/Thrash/Psychedelic fusion that continued to challenge and dumbfound many who just couldn’t grasp their unique brilliance. But this, their first offering, remains completely belligerent and insane and heavy as all fucking get-out.

“Voivod – I’m a paranoid

Voivod – the wine of blood

Voivod – I’m a crazy god

Voivod – the ferocious dog” - “Voivod”, Voivod (music by Voivod, lyrics by Snake)

*For the exceptionally curious, the second greatest line in Rock ‘n’ Roll comes from Gene Vincent who sang “Be bop a lula, she’s my baby”…genius!