Warrior Pope’s performance at the Chelsea Inn was something to behold. Vocalist / trombonist David Burke bringing a charisma to the stage the like of which rarely witnessed and is perhaps most reminiscent of Dick Valentine’s dry yet laugh-out-loud stand-up-esque routine inbetween Electric 6’s songs.

Here, though, Burke’s repartee is very much part of what the band is doing as a whole; something making a Warrior Pope performance all the more compelling when realising that, unlike Electric 6—where there’s generally a light element to songs too—here the opposite is true in giant great stonking leaps and battering bounds.

Addressing a pub full of punks and metalheads while looking very much a university lecturer but for a lack of patches on elbows of a nonetheless very tweed looking jacket, Burke talks enthusiastically about a fascination for the Pope before, much to what appears his deep and genuine horror, music starts to creep in with the threat of drowning out the words; this in turn leads to the vocals rising to rally against being engulfed, finally erupting as a possessed preacher raging from a pulpit to find cohesion with the sound.

This formula of seemingly clashing approaches that collide to work so well can be found captured on recently released Papal Bull​-​Shit: Live at the Louisiana.

‘Pornocratia’ opens slow, methodical, carries a warm wind from Spanish plateaus in the otherwise sombre notes. The lecture begins, amusing in the environment, while also thoroughly intriguing for the same reason. The introduction of trombone adds a hint of Western Movie stand-off that subtlety gives the Iberian breeze greater gusto before suddenly rushing into a tumultuous tornado that tears straight into ‘Twenty-Four Popes Later’:

A track of monumental rock ‘n’ roll proportions ensues: groovy, grinding, driving, intricate. A thoroughly infectious rhythm and energy exploding from every member of the band as a delicious slab of audio mayhem rampages it’s way to being over too soon at a mere minute.

Audience reactions are captured at the opening oration of ‘Condemnations of Formosus’ before it quickly drives into furious frenzy, the track far removed from the by-comparison boogie-on-down of that preceding it. Anguished, tormented, underpinned by purposeful and precise pounding drums, bass that sounds almost philosophical in movement and winding guitar that offers the only respite to a barren, desolate landscape of despair the vocals refuse to let anyone forget.

Image: Warrior Pope live at Moor Beer Saturday 12th August, 2023 (VogonLaundromat).

‘Slab Wound’ brings home the incredible depth and scale of Warrior Pope: starting with deranged demands such as ‘drag the body away’ over fuzzed-up psychedelic bliss, things soon descend further into chaos as the vocals escalate into screams and grunts while the music moves into performance art territory by becoming wholly representative of the narrative; an audio illustration of a sleekly dark act.

‘Embrace Mortality’ is almost tame by compare, opening at a blissful contemplative pace, it soon soars with Burke’s roar as guitar, drums and bass swirl in hypnotic ecstasy; the latter rising as the sound’s spine to be a much needed reminder that while this encapsulating sound might well be a place perfect for point-of-slumber dreaming, a live environment isn’t; this realisation, though, is confounded when trombone drifts in as a cloud, softly suggesting the whole thing too surreal not to be a dream already, so far removed is this from what is usually meant by / experienced when ‘seeing a band’.

The mellow feel of ‘Strangled Legacy’ is perfect opportunity to bask in how accomplished the musicianship: the detail in the percussion alone thoroughly captivating; while the pained and tormented requiem-esque vocals remind of all the elements witnessed in the performance, the complete tapestry they fulfil to encompass the condition of life without pretension for life can be absurd even in the most serious moments; something a solemn trombone floating over a sound of such crushing precision and driving purpose can somehow conversely ensure can’t be forgotten.

Warrior Pope team photo 13th August, 2023, James Fenwick Photography.  Back row left to right: Jack Andrews; David Burke. Front row: Katya; Oli Foxen. 

Starting much as a doom ballad, ‘Rotten Sun’ takes that dire plotline and delves even deeper; a phenomenal achievement given how far down already reached. Even here on the recording the high level of emotional energy still being expended despite all surged through already can be felt, its heat almost touchable, the compelling spectacle of actually witnessing it live brought vividly to mind.

For while this album certainly catches much of the flavour of Warrior Pope live, it’s only a mere taste when compared to the being there in the flesh feel of all those fat juicy riffs rolling right on over the senses, wave after wave of never ceasing soundgasm.

The gig finishes with a reprise of ‘Twenty-Four Popes’ now suddenly sounding fully hardcore punk in comparison to the last couple of songs, a frenzied climax to the show to make ‘soundgasm’ even more appropriate.

Papal Bull​-​Shit: Live at the Louisiana was recorded 25th June, 2023. Warrior Pope’s last studio recording Mellified Man came in 2020 and featured a significantly different line-up. It being:

Oli Foxen: Bass
Katya: Drums
Nick Cottle: Guitars
Russell Barron: Vocals
Will Turner-Duffin: Additional Guitar, mixing, mastering.

Compared to the current one of:

Oli Foxen: Bass
Katya: Drums, bowed cymbal
Jack Andrews: Guitar
David Burke: Vocals, Trombone

From Mellified Man only one track can be found on Papal Bull​-​Shit: Live at the Louisiana: ‘Embrace Mortality’. The vocal styles between Barron and Burke are astringently different, which isn’t to say one can’t sing the other’s songs as the track mentioned shows, but more so that Warrior Pope has been wise in embracing the style of Burke with new tracks, the wild lecturer allowed to add a whole now dimension and personality to the overall package that is Warrior Pope the concept.

Barron’s style has numerous worthy nuances of its own; something alone that makes Mellified Man equally worthy of any listener’s time, never mind the plethora of mind-bending solos, the stoner riffs ripping through heavy doom strides, bass that moves like hard purposeful breath; and the drums . . . pulsating deep and earthy, yet not rising from the bowels of the Earth: instead rolling in from far on the other side of the Universe with percussion sharp enough to put new stars in the sky along the way. All of which and more can be found captured in title track ‘Mellified Man’ alone.

Warrior Pope Links:

• bandcamp
• facebook
• instagram 

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