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When I was in junior high I met this kid named Dan who was the most blatant punk rocker in the area. A bit of a loner, he sported a bleached Mohawk, an icy demeanor, and was a badass when it came to fending off jocks and dirt-heads (he was tall and could fight like hell). Although we didn’t hang out that often, he was my neighbor and we had a mutual appreciation for music. Up to that point, I was torn between punk/new wave and heavy metal, which also made me a bit of a musical misfit. But now metal would be my main focus for a couple years, and I had the bullet belt and wristbands to prove I was down. Dan was into American hardcore punk and British Oi. When we’d go though each other’s records, I’d play him the fastest Metallica song I had, while he’d introduce me to the likes of English Dogs. Soon, I realized that there was a very fine line dividing the fringes of punk and metal. It may not seem like such a big deal now, ’cuz the two have largely become part of one bland, homogenized “alternative” movement, but this was the ’80s, and scenes were much more individual and segregated. In a way I miss that, ’cuz shit was what it was, and when a band did cross over it was truly special.

One such band was England’s The Blood. I read about these uncanny cats in a British metal mag and told Dan about them right away. Turns out that the band’s 1983 debut album False Gestures For A Devious Public (Noise Records) was too racy for most of the mainstream London new wave and indie rock papers, but piqued someone’s interest over at Kerrang! magazine, Britain’s most renowned metal publication. The Blood turned out to be the first punk band to get a feature, and the album went on to sell decently in the UK. I eventually found the album a couple years later at San Francisco’s now-defunct Record Vault—that specialized in heavy metal imports. To me, this is the record that closed the gap between punk and metal. But aside from its genre-blurring implications, it’s brimming with personality and has a slew of good songs.

The Blood were generally seen as an Oi band, but their fondness for heavy metal riffs, blazing solos, unrefined speed and outrageous imagery made them pretty unconventional. Whether they tried to be or not, they were prophetic—falling somewhere between the Sex Pistols, Alice Cooper and Motörhead. Initially called “Coming Blood,” the band featured a colorful cast of characters: Cardinal Jesus Hate (vocals), JJ Bedsore (guitars), Muttley (bass) and Dr. Wildthing (drums). On top of the strange namesakes they adorned themselves in shoddy, religious gear, dressing up like the Pope and his cronies, sporting the requisite hats and robes. It all may sound a bit tongue in cheek, and maybe it was to some degree, but there’s no denying the brilliance of the band’s first album. Embellished with sacrilegious cartoons on its stark, white sleeve, the artwork alone caused quite a stir, forcing the label to seek out various printers to complete the job, as several refused to produce it due to its heretical nature. But when all was said and done, the finished product was a masterpiece of the emerging punk-metal trend that exploded a couple of years later.

Loaded with rousing anthems such as “Done Some Brain Cells Last Nite,” “Degenerate,” “Sewer Brain, “Mesrine,” “Rule 43” and many others, the band infuses its unique brand of punk with great pop melodies, big hooks and some feisty guitar work. To add further confusion to the mix, the band had a fondness for synthesizers that they’d use to enhance the chaos, without watering it down. And then there’s the Cardinal’s vocals…an animated amalgamation of Lemmy Motörhead’s whiskey-soaked assault and the melodramatic musings of the Damned’s Dave Vanian. And on that note, there is also a hint of gothic drama in spots, particularly on the intro of the band’s excellent non-LP single “Megalomania”—the Card’s dirty delineation on the Pope. Another major element of the band’s sound was its rather gifted guitarist JJ Bedsore. Listening to his solos and fills evokes some of the best of both punk and metal—teetering on the edge of Johnny Thunders’ screeching switchblade licks and the shredding speed runs employed by some of the more “accomplished” metal musicians of the day. Sadly, Mr. Bedsore passed away in 2004, having been ill for some time.

The album was fondly reissued last year by Captain Oi! Records, and has 10 remastered bonus tracks including “Megalomania,” the punkish “Parasite In Paradise” and the acerbic “Stark Raving Normal.” The Blood’s career would be short-lived (with just one additional album), but I’ve heard about them reforming on and off for the past decade. As for my old school chum Dan, behind his ominous appearance, he was pretty smart, so I assume he’s doing well. And I’m sure he’d probably laugh at the thought of all the rude bitches and boneheads who hassled him, that still pine for their high school glory days while miserably singing along with Bowling For Soup’s “1985.” Fuck ’em. For questions, comments, or something you’d like to see in future columns, hit me up at: retrohead77@yahoo.com. Cheers.