After the sane, yet eminently listenable, Tavares of yesternight, let us now descend into unutterable madness; prepare to have your brain broken, to be manually remolded into a thing which can see into the Dark Dimension...and beyond. How may this be done, I hear you ask in quavering tones? Why, let Old Granddad Granvil unearth yet more long-buried '70s insanity (nevermind how Old Granddad grasped the use of a computer and the internet while his grandson - my dad, I leave off the "greats" for expediency's sake - never could figure out how a mouse worked). Don't shamble off that disco floor just yet, as we astrally project once again to 1977 to face another mystery, this time of a studio band of indeterminate origin (are they French? are they German?) called Hot Blood rearing its fang-filled collective head (heads? I'm losing my grip on proper English with the craziness) to lash our ears with this, the tale of...SOUL DRACULA. And not just one instance of this nightmare, but two - there are more, but I dare not risk my sanity and yours by posting more than these two.
"Ah, mercifully brief," I hear you sigh. Indeed. But questions remain (like, what's up with that dog puppet that shows up in the crowd right at the tail end? That's disturbing in itself). Prepare to have none answered, and many more arise, as we gaze again at a '70s European television stage where true lunacy is painfully birthed.
I think now our journey down the shadow-filled path to Halloween can continue, as those who survived this video onslaught have sufficient emotional fortitude to weather the psychic storms we will encounter along the way.
Someone needs to not just reboot this as a franchise, but as an empire.
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