Living After Death by Al Festa & Maurizio Cerantola
Since we’re talking about the Zombie series, let’s jump to this “Almost a Title Track” from Claudio Fragasso’s Zombie 4: After Death.
Claudio’s directorial effort never quite hits those moments of gonzo joy on display in Zombie 3, but it’s certainly not the worst thing to carry the “Zombie” moniker. And it does have it’s predecessor licked in one very important department; and that’s the opening credit number.
If you thought Clue in the Crew were 80’s up wait til you get a load of Metropole keyboardist Al Festa and singer Maurizio Cerantola’s Living After Death.
IMDb, surprisingly, has a fair amount of information about Signore Cerantola. Seems he was in a Led Zeppelin tribute band called Custard Pie. Then after that, he fronted 2 separate Whitesnake cover bands, one of which was fantastically named Cover-Dale.
Well he’s got the pipes, that’s for sure, as he belts it out here on the kind of song you just wish was a true Title Track. All the hallmarks of the finest are on display. It’s was right there fellas, starrin’ ya in the gullet, all you had to do was grab it.
But alas, their synthy banger will need to be relegated to an Almost Title Tracks episode of Shindig Radio in the future.
As for Zombie 4…that 2nd “Hey, let’s just take a movie that’s not really a sequel to Zombie and call it one anyway” installment…what’s the old chestnut? Zombie 4 makes Zombie 3 look like Zombie 2? Perhaps that’s applicable.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Blue Heart sets ‘em up and the Shindig knocks ‘em down.
Here’s the somehow even more 80’s rocker Living After Death.
Let’s keep the Italian horror train rolling along with this little number, straight off of Blue Heart’s turntable, Clue in the Crew’s rocking Zombie-Bird Winnebago Attack/Sweet Song, The Sound of Fear.
The Lucio Fulci/Bruno Mattei/Claudio Fragasso mega-team up Zombie 3 delivers just about everything you’d expect outta that unholy and contentious alliance: Italian weirdness, synthy goodness, nonsensical plotting , machete-wielding, decapitated-head-flying zombie madness and generous amounts flagrant intellectual theft.
I mean, let’s start with that poster art alone. It’s straight up the Force: Five fist mixed with Freddy’s eyes from Dream Warriors and the lady’s face from the Absurd poster. If Stay The Night didn’t indicate the kind of shameless theft that’s rampant in Italian cinema, or just what kind is in store from Zombie 3, then this pilfery collage passed off as “promotional material” ought to give you an idea.
What was marketed as the second sequel to Romero’s Dawn of the Dead actually plays out more like Italy’s answer to Return of the Living Dead and I honestly don’t have 1 single problem with that.
You throw in radio DJ Blue Heart, straight rockin’ the Jose Canseco shades, pushing his ecological agenda alongside the hottest Phillipino tunes 1988 had to offer, and the Shindig is in Paradiso.
Here’s Clue in the Crew’s referentially inclusive, 80’ser-than-shit hit, The Sound of Fear.
Bet you never thought you’d see Incubus on The Shindig, huh? Well, I certainly wouldn’t have ever added them, because I don’t like Incubus.
And if you don’t like Incubus either, then you’re in luck, because this isn’t that Incubus.
Nope. Just like any band post-1990, there’s probably 4 other bands that already held that name in the past. And such is the case for, the perhaps inappropriately named, Incubus.
No, this one comes from New Wave of British Heavy Metal outfit Incubus, and their sound is much more aligned with what you might expect from a band named Incubus. Not wholly, but certainly closer.
Now I’ll admit, this isn’t strictly a referential track, I don’t think. But what few lyrics we are given don’t not conjure images of the film.
Should it be added? I dunno. I like the tune, and since To The Devil a Daughter is technically a Halloween movie, we’re pickin’ em up!
I would also like to add that there is no shortage of metal songs called To The Devil a Daughter. In fact, Shindig-adjacent Wytchfynde actually have one as well. I say adjacent because that’s not a typo, as Wytchfyndewith two Y’s was an offshoot of Witchfynde (with an I) vocalist Luther Beltz when he left the band in 1999. However, Luther Beltz didn’t join Witchfynde until 1983’s Cloak and Dagger, the album after Stagefright from which the Shindigger Trick or Treat appears.
However, Luther’s era of Witchfynde sounds pretty different from our Witchfynde, which kinda make’s Luther’s Witchfynde a completely different band altogether than our Witchfynde, which would then make Wytchfynde with two Y’s even more different still. So much so that I probably shouldn’t have even mentioned them at all, but here we are.
Are any of those other To the Devil a Daughter songs more aligned to the film? Not sure. I didn’t really like any of them very much, or at least enough to really cross reference the lyrics. Wytchfynde’s didn’t seem particularly referential, and it was a newer cut, so I wasn’t too keen on the sound. So Incubus it is, names be damned.
We kinda blew our To the Daughter a Devil sample load on the Hallo’s Eve track, but we’ll still pepper in some here, cause hey, it seems a bit more appropriate than maybe it was there.
I love the Abominable Dr. Phibes. You should too! It’s a great old horror flick with a neat premise and a sinister performance from Vincent Price. Here he is hookin’ himself into his acoustic contraption which recreates his lost voice:
It’s also quite musical, as Dr. Anton Phibes plays a mean pipe organ and even built a full-on band of automatons that play tunes for him: Dr. Phibes’ Clockwork Wizards. Here they are just shreddin’:
For years I’ve felt bad that I’ve never included any of the music from the film, but it’s brand of old-time Hollywood scoring doesn’t really fit a playlist of this kind.
And sure, there’s plenty of songs out there called Dr. Phibes, but none of them have ever really jumped out at me until I found this one, from another New Wave of British Heavy Metal outfit: Angel Witch.
And this one rips. However, like some other Phibes-based songs, for some reason it’s also an instrumental. No one really wants to sing about the Old Doc it seems.
So, loaded up with some Phibes samples to set the appropriate mood, here comes Dr. Phibesby Angel Witch.
Well, we’ve passed the 300 mark on Halloween Shindig, so we’re gonna kick off the next phase of the playlist with block of classic heavy metal tracks.
And what better tune to set the mood than this epic instrumental called Full Moon from New Wave of British Heavy Metal outfit, Demon.
“Rise,” they chant, over some synthy goodness and some gurgling belching noises. And we shall do just that.
It’s perfectly Halloweeny and it leads directly into their song, Night of the Demon. Now this song is not explicitly referential to either the classic 1957 film (more commonly known as Curse of the Demon) nor the 1983 Video Nasty Bigfoot freak-out. But hey, so what! It’s great for Halloween as well.
Cause what’s Halloween if not the night of the demon?
And just look at that album cover! It’s awesome. It’s one of the coolest album covers ever.
So sit back, relax, grab some pumpkin boys and the beverage of your choice, cause shit’s about to get heavy.
Cause don’t you know? It’s the Night of the Demon!
Though we uncovered 10 and featured 9 different Freddy related rap songs on Monster Raps Pt. 3, none stood out as much as Krushin MC’sNightmare on Rhyme Street. As such, it’s getting thrown in the mix ahead of the pack.
But why is it that this song (at least as far as I’m concerned anyway) is so much better than all the rest?
Well, I think it’s 3 fold.
First and foremost, I think it sounds the least 80’s of the group. A strange stance for me to take, I know, but hear me out.
This is a track that feels a bit ahead of its time. The flow has a much smoother and rhythmic cadence than it’s brethren. Additionally, it’s packing a lot of lyrics into a tight bar. At a time when the other Freddy rappers were still drawing out sparse lyrics to match slower beats, the Krushin MC’seffortlessly flow with a tempo that feels more like something from the 90’s, and a good deal less silly.
Second is this beat, which also feels ahead of its time. Without aping the actual theme, it captures the vibe of A Nightmare on Elm Street with a downbeat and downright sinister bass line. While none of these songs are what I’d call dark, this one has the darkest tone of the bunch, which makes it feel less at odds with the subject matter.
Now, there’s something to be said and appreciated with these Freddy Raps in the juxtaposition of an upbeat rap songs about a homicidal and, most likely, pedophilic murderer turned dream demon. Freddy’s actual album, Freddy’s Greatest Hits, being perhaps chief among this strange intersection of digestible pop and disturbing subtext. But there’s also something to be said of treating this material, at least in respect to its sound, as what it is – a horrifying concept.
Now, the Krushin MC’s aren’t going that far with it. I mean this is still a song where a guy battle raps a Freddy wearing a glove with 5 microphones on it, but at least is sounds kinda appropriate.
Which bring me to the 3rd reason this song a is superior Freddy rap – it’s lyrical content.
Krushin MC’s pack a lot more, and a lot better, references to the films than their contemporaries. You got the aforementioned golden mic glove, the muddy steps, the tongue coming out an inanimate object, the girls jumping rope, the peeling of Freddy skin to reveal his brain and even Dream Warriors’ method of Freddy disposal.
Among a crew of dude who reference the same damn line from Freddy’s Revenge, lazily rhyme the numbers of the films, and even have Freddy potentially pulling has ass out at the beach, Krushin MC’sfeeling like goddamn Nightmare on Elm Street scholars.
Now, those song’s’ll potentially all wind up here eventually, given enough time, but for my money, only the Krushin MC’sNightmare on Rhyme Streetdeserves express service.
“Man, I really love that Edgar Winter’s Frankenstein, but I just wish it had more synths, ya know? Like some newer synths…and maybe even a drum machine, yeah! And hey, what if it had some lyrics too, ya know, instead of being an instrumental? And dude, the lyrics could really be about Frankenstein, so it would actually be a real monster song! And oh shit, what if Edgar himself, weirdo, freaky 70’s looking, literal-ass whitest dude ever was rappin’ all over the motherfucker?”
Well my friend, have I got some good news for you today, courtesy of Edgar Winter’svery own Frankenstein 1984.
Yep.
Now, why Edgar decided to update Frankenstein, I couldn’t say. I wasn’t able to find any interviews with him talking about this particular version. But my guess is, Edgar is a pretty experimental guy. The original Frankenstein was the first ever #1 hit to heavily feature a synthesizer. And Edgar is perhaps the inventor of what we think of today as a keytar, as he was the first one to strap the ARP2600’s keyboard around his neck.
As synthesizer technology and their use in popular music grew over the decade or so following this hit, I’m sure Edgar wanted to take another stab at it and incorporate more electronic instrumentation.
Now, why…in addition to this…Edgar decided to remix a slightly different version of the song and then rap over the top of it…that’s about anyone’s guess. As we’ve reckoned many times here on The Shindig before, Rap was starting to emerge as a legitimate musical force and in those early days, everybody decided to take swing.
So let’s thank Edgar Winterfor deciding to throw his hat in the ring and take a song with dubious connections to both Halloween and Frankenstein himself and turn it into the full-blown epic Monster Rap we always wished it could be.
He even went so far as to call it the Monster Rap version.
Shindig Radio personality Graham C. Schofield doesn’t much care for disco music. And as you know, we’re currently knee deep in a Monster Disco Block.
So it may shock you to hear he’s actually responsible for our next tune, another vampire related rug cutter from the 70’s monster comedy, Love At First Bite, starring George Hamilton.
See, last Halloween, Graham bestowed upon The Hole this fresh piece of vinyl soundtrack goodness, and there was much rejoicing.
And if he didn’t think one of these fuckers was gonna find its way onto the playlist this year, he’s out of his mind.
Now, perhaps he did. Perhaps he was even ok with the idea. But what he probably didn’t know was that I already had a few disco-diggers waiting in the dugout, and that this specific gift was the catalyst for me diggin’ up a couple more and making a whole block out of the affair.
So, if you need a scapegoat for any ire you’re experiencing at the hands of a solid week filled with goofball monster disco bullshit, he’s your guy. I’m sure he sympathizes.
As for Love At First Bite, give it a go. It’s a surprisingly measured and effective vampire comedy with a fine and funny Dracula performance from George Hamilton.
It is alleged to have ripped off the plot of 1971’s Guess What Happened to Count Dracula? almost to the T, but as of the time of writing, I have not seen that film and can make no assessment.
What I can say is that it was one of 5 Dracula movies released in 1979. You have, of course, John Badham’s classic starring Frank Langella, Donald Pleaseance and Sir Laurence Oliver. Not to be outdone, you got Werner Herzog’s chilling Nosferatu, starring the unearthly Klaus Kinski. And then, no doubt attempting to a capitalize on the success of Love at First Bite, is Germany’s DiscoDracula film Dracula Blows His Cool, but more on that one in a bit.
Because we can’t talk about Disco Draculas without talking about the other Dracula film from 1979.
Nocturna: Granddaughter of Dracula, is perhaps the Disco Dracula movie, drenched as it is, almost front to back, in so much Disco it actually gets a little hard to watch. It’s practically an hour and 20 minute Disco music video.
It even features the tune Love Is Just a Heartbeat Away (Nocturna’s Theme) from I WillSurvive Disco Superstar, Gloria Gaynor. How they managed to pull her for this weird-ass, low budget monster picture is probably a miracle. She was apparently talked into providing the track by her then manager and future husband. Apparently she’s not too proud of that song in the slightest. We’ll spare you that tune, inclusive and semi-referential though it be, as it’s a fairly standard (albeit pretty decent) Disco tune, with no fun Draculaness.
When it’s not indulging in overly long bouts of dancing to repetitive beats and string synthesizers, Nocturna’s a totally bizarre quasi-skin flick with some weird vampire lore.
See, for Dracula’s granddaughter (played by belly dancer and screenwriter Nia Bonet), the power of disco music slowly changes her into a human or some such nonsense.
It even features a scene with a governing vampire assembly and a new, designer form of blood that the vampires can snort. It was 1979, after all.
Also on tap is actual Dracula John Caradine (even wearing his costume from 1945’s House of Dracula) and Lily Munster herself, Ms. Yvonne DeCarlo. Bonus!
If you’re into bizarre shit and love the idea Disco Draculas, definitely give it a watch. It’s worth it for Nia Bonet’s positively otherworldly performance. Plus, you get to see shit like this:
Outstanding.
But enough about Nocturna, we’re here for Fly By Night from soul singer Pat Hodges, dammit!
Now, out of the box, this fucker is a 12 and a half minute song. Talk about goin’ hard. That’s indulgent, even for Disco.
So, we’ve enlisted the help of our Shindig Audio Magicians to make this one a bit more manageable, with a totally unique Shindig Special Edition version. Not gonna lie though, it hurt a little. Despite the length of Fly By Night, I’m all about how long and epic its Disco is. It pained me to snip out resonant filter sweeps or Simmons drum hits, but it had to be done.
If we’re not gonna use the full length, 12 minute version of Helloween’sHalloween, you better believe Fly By Night ain’t getting no special dispensation.
Without any further ado, though somewhat truncated, here’s Pat Hodges singing Fly By Night!
It had been a long time since I had sat down and watched Toxie’s back-to-back shot sequels, and I had completely forgotten about this tailor made tune sung by Scott Casey.
This one slightly jukes my (admittedly somewhat rigid) definition of a Title Track by being featured in the sequel and having the word “theme” tacked on the end, but I don’t think there’s any other word for this song.
It explicitly describes, in very detailed fashion, the events of the first film. And Scott enthusiastically chants the title over and over again, making for a textbook Title Track under any other circumstances.
So we’ll overlook the fact that it’s from Toxie’s second outing, and that it has the word theme slapped on there, and simply bask in the relentless 80’s power-synth-rock awesomeness of The Toxic Avenger Theme. Just listen to those falsettos! When Lloyd decided to give Toxie his own theme, he definitely didn’t skimp.
As I stated in an episode of Shindig Radio that you readers have yet to hear, most people seem to refer to our next song as “The Dead Are After Me.”
And once that chorus hits the first time, there’ll be no doubt in your mind why.
However, it is my assertion that this song, composed and performed by George Edward Ott, is actually a Title Track, despite its chorus.
See, the film itself only ever credits this tune as “Title Song” and George Edward does say the phrase “Raiders of the Living Dead.”
Says the title?
Claims it’s a title song?
Good enough for me, internet be damned.
Now, if George Edward Otthimself reaches out to me and says…
“No, ya moron. Listen to that chorus! Obviously the title of the song is “The Dead Are Are After Me.” What kind of idiot are you?
…then I’ll stand down. But until that day, I’m holding fast. This is a Title Track.
Either way, it’s a great little lo-fi piece of analog rock accompaniment that definitely belongs on this playlist, under any name.
As for the film, it’s a crack up. Featuring Flick from A Christmas Story as a industrious young inventor who accidentally turns his Grandfather’s laserdisc player into a death ray. Score.
There’s this Doctor on some prison island, and he’s turning dead convicts into Zombies, as ya do. That gets a little hairy and they’re running amuck. Then a reporter and a local librarian (yeah, it’s that kinda movie) get webbed up in this zombie business, but eventually they team up with Gramps and his recurve bow and Flick with his laser ray to save the day.
Top all that off with a Title Track like this, and you got yourself a kind of a winner.
