Witchfist Demo by Witchfist: A Doom-Fueled Joyride That’ll Mess You Up (In a Good Way)
Alright, buckle up because Witchfist Demo is one of those albums that doesn’t just sit in the background—it grabs you by the throat and demands your attention. Released in 2018 under Dystopian Dogs, this US-based doom metal beast hits hard where it counts. It’s raw, gritty, and dripping with attitude. And yeah, it's kinda perfect.
Let’s start with “Shotgun Sorcerer.” Holy hell, this track slaps so hard I almost forgot my own name the first time I heard it. Grandmother Thunder’s vocals are like gravel soaked in whiskey—raspy, commanding, and unapologetically badass. Paired with Bog’s thunderous drumming, it feels like being chased through a haunted forest by something ancient and pissed off. The riff? Oh man, the guitar work here is pure evil genius. It’s slow enough to crush your soul but sharp enough to keep you hooked. This song sticks in your head like gum on a hot sidewalk—you can’t shake it off even if you try.
Then there’s “War Witches,” which might as well be the soundtrack to an apocalyptic battle. The opening alone sets the tone: heavy, ominous, and ready to rumble. What gets me every time is how Grandmother Thunder switches between growls and these haunting clean vocals. Like, one second they’re summoning demons, and the next they’re whispering secrets from beyond the grave. It gives me goosebumps every damn time. By the end of the track, you feel like you’ve survived something monumental—a war, maybe, or at least a really intense hangover.
The rest of the album keeps the energy alive too. Tracks like “Babylonian Bitch Slap” and “Sky Funeral” bring their own brand of chaos, while “Throne of Toads” feels like crawling through a swamp filled with broken promises and bad decisions. Engineer George Szegedy deserves props for keeping everything sounding tight yet dirty, letting the band’s raw power shine without over-polishing anything.
Here’s the thing about Witchfist Demo: it’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. Instead, it takes the wheel, smashes it into pieces, and builds a new one outta scrap metal and sheer willpower. It’s imperfect, sure, but that’s what makes it so damn memorable. These guys aren’t playing music—they’re conjuring spells, casting curses, and raising hell.
And honestly? If someone told me this whole album was recorded during a blood moon ritual in some abandoned barn, I wouldn’t doubt them for a second.
Final thought: Listening to Witchfist Demo made me realize two things. One, I need to invest in better speakers because my cheap ones can barely handle the bass. Two, life’s way more fun when you embrace the chaos—and let’s face it, this album is chaos wrapped in leather and spikes. So crank it loud, throw some horns, and thank whatever gods you believe in for bands like Witchfist.
