WEIRD TALES is a Doom/Sludge Metal trio out of Warsaw, Poland. The band formed back in 2015 and have one full-length album, three EPs, and a compilation to their credit. On January 15, 2021 they released a blues tribute EP entitled, "Y'all Motherfuckers Forgot 'bout Good Ol' Son of a Bitchin' Blues." To be honest, when I saw the album cover (a grim rendering of a hanged man) and then read the album title, I thought these guys are just out to start some shit. But then I looked at the song titles and started to piece some things together. These are re-imaginings of classic blues songs. And as any metal fan will tell you, especially Doom metal fans, the veil is thin between blues and metal.

Here's the breakdown: Track one, "Got the Blues for Murder Only," was most popularly performed by Lonnie Johnson circa 1930. In fact, the recording I heard was from September 11, 1930. Track two, "Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues" was first released by Skip James in 1931 and revived in the 2000 film, "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?" Track four, "Take Sick and Die" is a Muddy Waters standard dating back to at least 1942. And, finally, track three, "Too Fucking Cold, Too Fucking Dark" is a nod to Blind Willie Johnson's "Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground" (which also inspired THE MIDNIGHT GHOST TRAIN's "Cold Was the Ground" album).

What's the verdict? Well, in the hands of WEIRD TALES, these ain't blues songs no more, at least not in the traditional sense. But they are emotive, heavy, and dark. My favorite tracks are, well, just all of them . . . but for different reasons. "Got the Blues for Murder Only" because it took so long to wrap my mind around what was happening but when I did, the pay-off was huge; "Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues" because of its multi-phased composition that just keeps on giving; "Too Fucking Cold, Too Fucking Dark" because of the devil's interval never gets old; and "Take Sick and Die" as the straightest and meanest track in the deck.

Suffice it to say, the album surprised the hell out of me. I started off with a big, indefatigable "no" and ended with a "hell yeah!" and punching the replay button like a lab rat with a coke problem. These re-makings, deconstructions, Frankenstein monstrosities are sludgy, gritty beasts.  When these guys say "Y'all Motherfuckers Forgot 'bout Good Ol' Son of a Bitchin' Blues," it might seem a little over the top. And then the irreverent album cover. And the colloquial spellings. And then three Polish guys invoking the tritone and singing about Mexico, death, and murder. But then it sinks in, and it's all hails and horn. This EP is massive.