Album Review: Rob Zombie – “The Electric Warlock Acid Witch Satanic Orgy Celebration Dispenser”

By: Emmett Robinson Smith –

Rob Zombie has always been a pretty theatrical guy. As the brains behind oft-ill-conceived horror movies like “The Devil’s Rejects” and, more recently, “The Lords of Salem,” it’s clear that Zombie prioritizes shock value over substance, entertainment over artistry. This balancing act, or lack thereof, is evident in his music as well, and it pervades much of his new album, titled The Electric Warlock Acid Witch Satanic Orgy Celebration Dispenser (out today via UMe/T-Boy). The name itself pretty much tells you all you need to know going into it: this collection of songs is a balls-out joyride on a demented pain train, and Zombie is the crazed conductor.

Album opener “The Last of the Demons Defeated” is a minute-and-a-half romp in which Zombie repeats “Electric warlock acid witch!” ad nauseum over a chugging but cookie-cutter metal guitar riff. Despite its brevity it sets the tone for the rest of the album – jumbled, self-parodying, occasionally entertaining, but ultimately tiresome. Zombie mashes ideas together like a toddler using finger-paint, deriving pleasure from the mere process of making a mess rather than from constructing an intelligible product.

That’s not to say that the album is devoid of high-points. “Medication for the Melancholy” succeeds with its smart use of dynamic contrast and well-paced tension-and-release. Zombie’s voice becomes more of a rhythmic device and less of a lyrical vessel at times, which complements the uncharacteristically melodic riff of the chorus.

But then there are songs like “Well, Everybody’s Fucking in a UFO” – which sounds almost identical to “Ging Gang Gong De Do Gong De Laga Raga” from his last album – in which Zombie tells the story of a one-eyed wolf who teams up with a 10-foot midget to obtain $20 and a vacation in Japan from Superman. Oh, and also, everybody is fucking in a UFO. Zombie inexplicably recounts this tale in an obnoxious Southern accent, which only adds to the incongruities. There’s a fine line between absurdity and incoherence, and Zombie practically pole vaults over that line with much of the album.

There’s no doubt that the absurdity is deliberate on Zombie’s part. But when it lasts for all the album’s twelve tracks, it becomes less and less compelling. Luckily, Zombie knows when to cut a song off, and despite the relentless farcicality of the album, it does manage to feel relatively slim as a whole. The pacing is probably the album’s strongest asset.

But, in the context of his previous work, The Electric Warlock Acid Witch Satanic Orgy Celebration Dispenser doesn’t bring anything earth-shatteringly new to the table. It’s hard to imagine him losing a portion of his fanbase for this album, because it delivers what his niche audience has come to expect: clobbering guitar riffs and brash, violent narratives told with a jokey, maniacal demeanour. But hasn’t the joke worn thin by now? The real problem with this album is not that it lacks diversity both within itself and within his larger repertoire. The real problem is that it begs the question as to whether Zombie is really capable of anything else.

Essential Tracks: “Medication for the Melancholy”