999,956: Black Widow - "Come to the Sabbat"

In 1970, Black Sabbath released their debut album, not only creating heavy metal as we now know it, but also setting the template for how songs about Satan are supposed to sound (in a word, awesome). But what if you wanted to sing about Satan and had no existing blueprint? Well, if you were the British band Black Widow, you might use Lord of the Rings as a gateway to pre-Christian paganism and the occult, and represent this musically by delving into traditional British folk. (See also: Led Zeppelin.) But, this being Britain at the dawn of the 1970s, you might also bow to the spirit of the times and broaden your sound with the lofty ambitions of progressive rock. Even if you weren’t virtuosos, you could still craft elaborate arrangements and display your jazz influences by jamming a lot. Appearing the same year as Black Sabbath, Black Widow’s most memorable song was “Come to the Sabbat,” which blended tribal drumming and ritualistic chanting with prominent flute lines and orchestral washes of organ. The sound was something like Jethro Tull, albeit without any of the heavy guitars – much more prog-folk than prog-rock. For whatever reason, the song opens with what sounds like a Native American war chant, but this foreboding atmosphere quickly gives way to sprightly, flute-led instrumental lines that conjure images of smiling elves, twinkling faeries, and naked pagans dancing by firelight in the forest because Renaissance Faires haven’t been invented yet. Kip Trever’s vocals have all the meticulous enunciation and painful sincerity of folk music, and this is the ultimate key to the song. Put simply, “Come to the Sabbat” is the fucking fruitiest song about Satan you could ever hope to hear, and thanks to the earnest delivery, there is not even a HINT of irony about it. This is especially delicious when the chanted chorus arrives – with an insistent beat fit for a merry jig, the entire band intones “Come, come, come to the Sabbat/Come to the Sabbat/SATAN’S THERE!!!” over and over again, gradually picking up velocity until the full-band dance bit returns and the jolly flute toot-toot-tootles away. The results can only be called magick, which in this case can only be spelled with a “k” at the end. Join me in my search for power, and listen to this one-of-a-kind weirdness immediately. Better yet, track down the entire Sacrifice LP, which is equally demonically obsessed. (NOTE: Song does not actually conjure the demon Astaroth. At least not that I am aware of.)