Band:	Angus McSix
Album:	Angus McSix And The Sword Of Power
Style:	Power metal
Release date:	April 21, 2023
A review by:	ScreamingSteelUS

01. Master Of The Universe
02. Sixcalibur
03. Laser-Shooting Dinosaur
04. Amazons Of Caledonia
05. Ride To Hell
06. Starlord Of The Sixtus Stellar System
07. The Vision In The Fires (Intro)
08. Eternal Warrior
09. The Key To Eternity
10. In A Past Reality
11. Fireflies Of Doom
12. Just A Fool Will Play Tricks On Angus McSix [bonus]

The saga of Ingloryhammer continues: a couple of years after his surprise departure, under circumstances that are rich in rumor and scant of information, vocalist Thomas Laszlo Winkler has done what he threatened to do and gone solo with the power of the universe and a big dragon and maybe a sword and some clouds and lightning bolts and whatnot. He’s gotten himself a record deal and amassed an impressive array of collaborators to buttress his efforts, and with all melodramatic grandstanding appropriate to his genre he has designed his new endeavor specifically to spite his former bandmates: Winkler is rechristened from his erstwhile alias of Angus McFife to the self-proclaimed “one better,” Angus McSix. …get it? McFife, McSix? One better.

Ah, you’re not laughing. Let me explain. You see, “five” is a number between four and –

Anyway, Gloryhammer have yet to retaliate or confirm that this is all part of a giant multi-band meta concept that will culminate in a massive crossover album in 2030 (stick around after the album to see whether there’s a postcredits scene that teases the next Twilight Force), but if Megadeth, Beast In Black, and Geoff Tate have taught us anything, it’s that you actually can make a career out of telling your old band to eat garbage. Even if it’s celestial garbage of the cosmic goblinsphere.

What’s curious about Angus McSeven is that it seems to be driven substantially by Sebastian Levermann, a.k.a. Seebulon, of Orden Ogan; this post, detailing the origins of the project, indicates that it was Levermann who provided the ignition. His fingerprints are all over this thing, too: while there are lingering traces of Winkler’s former project in some electronic-influenced keyboard applications (see “Amazons Of Caledonia” or “Ride To Hell” for those slight incursions of disco that Bowes is so fond of) and the same sense of humor clings like like elastic (just look at any of the song titles), the sound is more Orden Ogan than anything else. In the very first chorus on the album, the gigantic “WHOA-OA” of “Master Of The Universe,” the massive cyborg-brain brass backing betrays “Seebulon”’s identity. The way Winkler’s vocal phrasings are punctuated by riffing, the way the backing vocals and keys form a solid wall of buzzing resonance in each chorus, the lead guitar accentuations and tone, and even the fundamental melodic tendencies owe everything to Orden Ogan and nothing to Gloryhammer.

This in itself is hardly a problem for me. Orden Ogan happens to be one of my favorite power metal bands; I love Levermann’s voice, his guitar tone and riffing style, his melodic preferences, and the engulfing production, all of which are recapitulated in the context of Angus McEight. Musically, I have few issues to raise: the instrumental trio of Levermann, guitarist Thalias “Thalestris” Bellazecca (ex-Frozen Crown), and drummer Manuel “Skaw!” Lotter (ex-Rhapsody Of Fire) works beautifully together. It’s an eclectic mix within the power metal sphere, and the qualities of Winkler’s voice make him a better fit for this kind of sound than might at first be evident. The band tears itself away from some of Levermann’s least suitable quirks for a more conventional heavy/power sound – this album omits the repetition, consistently dense atmosphere, and despair that his primary project prizes. The Sword Of Power has a believably anthemic approach and more fiddly instrumental lines that fall in with the standards of glorious epic power metal. The heavy production and choruses can seem at odds with the flamboyant verses and vocal lines, and at points this is obviously an experiment in writing in a different mode – “Laser-Shooting Dinosaur,” for all the infectious qualities of its ringtone-like keyboard hooks, is downright annoying – but this is overall a modest musical success.

It would not be unreasonable, however, to assume that a large proportion of listeners flocking to Angus McNine are expecting a continuation of Gloryhammer with blackjack and hookers. Or without blackjack and hookers, if we’re reading that situation correctly. Those fans are likely to be confused by the fact that the similarities to Gloryhammer are entirely cosmetic, limited to the vocals and thematic preoccupations. In spite of the fact that it’s Winkler’s face on the cover, this whole arrangement calls to mind the recent solo projects embarked upon by Dee Snider and Corpsegrinder, in which an established vocalist was effectively challenged by a producer to record an album that wound up being a reflection of that producer as much as the singer. Listeners who left disappointed by a lack of sonic continuity would be justified in doing so.

There is continuity elsewhere, however, and that brings me to my least favorite aspect of Angus McTen: the entire image. The insistence on shackling this project to the legacy of Gloryhammer for the sole purpose of surpassing them is the very thing that drags it down. I think enough people remember the voice and Zoolander-esque countenance of Thomas Winkler without resorting to an obscure joke; I see no need to play with a sense of humor that sours in such a snide context. Is Angus McEleven going to be dedicated to trashing Gloryhammer for the entirety of its career? That is uninteresting to me. The fact that this is not so much a debut album as a public declaration of begrudgement makes it sound entirely joyless, even if it is competent. If there is one thing that humor cannot survive without, it is authenticity; and if there is one thing that power metal cannot survive without, it is humor.

Beast In Black accomplished the same trick with resounding success, so the pall that hangs over Angus McTwelve is curious. In Beast In Black’s case, furious vengeance slots pretty well into the Berserk obsession as a lyrical theme, and by the second album already the band had moved on; they now have their own completely new identity (and they actually have surpassed their origins). Perhaps it really is the fact that Angus McThirteen, through its carriage and its consciously goofy lyrical themes, makes such a show of being unaffected in bearing by its circumstances of birth, while the name and imagery reveal unprocessed resentment. There’s also the fact that Beast In Black got away with it because they sounded as hungry and as driven as they were – they were good enough to seize their place. Angus McFourteen is still getting his sea legs. Or space dinosaur legs. Whatever.

Angus McFifteen And The Sword Of Power is a solid start, but what I would really like to see is for these four talented musicians to come together under a neutral name to craft an original image.