Satan’s Satyrs – Don’t Deliver Us


Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. “Retro, throwback, ’70s rock worshippers with occult-themed lyrics…” But wait, this isn’t just the same old song ‘n dance. For one thing, this Virginia outfit isn’t female-fronted, nor are they merely Electric Wizard clones… although they did open for the Wizard on its North American tour.

Rather, this evil trio’s influences run the gamut from Rush s/t to Pentagram. They covered UFO last time I saw ‘em—and no, it wasn’t “Doctor, Doctor, either—and once did a whole set worth of Blue Cheer tunes at Roadburn. So Satan’s Satyrs ain’t just apin’ Aerosmith and the Stones… at all, really.

Don’t Deliver Us, already their third record, opens on an eerie note, with Pentagram-style riffs accented by some Grand Funk boogie-woogie piano. It ain’t typical, but it works. “Two Hands” is more of an up-tempo chugger until it hits you with several doomy breakdowns interspersed throughout. And man, I gotta say it, their singer’s a dead ringer for Mike Dean… which certainly isn’t everybody’s cup of conformity.

“(Won’t You Be My) Gravedancer” wins the prize for spookiest song title, also offering a heavy helping of Liebling-infused retro doom in the process. “Germanium Bomb” is about as impactful as its moniker implies, a bass-heavy thrasher that sounds like The Sweet on meth. “Creepy Teens” might be more like The Misfits, if they were from San Fran and fronted by Mary Monday. And played extended guitar solos, too.

So yes, this outfit is certainly set on bringing the ’70s back, but unlike some of those sitar-picking, bell-bottomed douchebags, they certainly don’t suck!

Seahawks/Stamps/Flames/Zags/Jays/Raptors fan and lifelong metal head with a beer gut and a self-deprecating sense of humour. Reviewer/blogger (Yon Senior Doomsayer) for

8.0 Rating