Deceased - Supernatural Addiction

Alas, wee ones,  I must away forthwith for a day or two!  Focus your minds together on this, my favorite album by Virginia's unkillable death/thrash misanthropes, Deceased.  Supernatural Addiction is perhaps my favorite among their peerless discography (although one can't go wrong with any of their various albums).  Loosely themed around various notably works of short horror, from the glorious "The Doll With the Hideous Spirit" from Richard Matheson's famous "Prey," and its bloodthirsty Zuni Fetish Doll, to "Dark Chilling Heartbeat" based on Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart."  Each song is a gem on its own, but taken as a whole they add up to a Tales From The Crypt-style anthology of horrid tales of revenge an comeuppance. 

The music?  Ah, yes.  This isn't the most brutal Deceased record by a long shot, but the ambitious texture and range are breathtaking, unfolding from the crusher opening of "The Premontion" into a complex mix of not only death and thrash but hints of psych, punk, doom, and weirder territories.  Even the longest songs are perpetually forward-moving and fat-free, anchored by the excellent and instantly recognizable vocals of drummer King Fowley.  Deceased is one of those bands like Slough Feg or Primordial, seemingly content to stake out their own plot of metal soil and crank out album after album of quality music, impervious to trends and inertia.

Will we ever open our minds to greet a world beyond?

Nightmare!

Here's a moody little slice of cinematic horror jazz from Creed Taylor and his orchestra, simultaneously oozing hepcat cool and slithery menace. The third of three collaborations with film composer Kenny Hopkins, these albums are not connected to specific films but based on short horror stories and classic monster archetypes. Anticipating much strange fringe music of the next fifty years, the mix of creaky sound effects with abstract tone poems and lounge rhythm, along with occasional muffled voices, creates a delightfully eerie atmosphere that must've been a riot at cocktail parties and secretive black masses alike.
Red Eyed Rats

Mystification

When in doubt, post some Manilla Road! Here is the long-running metal underdogs' ferocious Poe-themed sixth album, Mystification. Straddling the thin line between traditional heavy metal and thrash, this record is just unbelievably thick, dense, packed with allegory, and darkly resonant. Another flawless gem from a criminally under-appreciated band.
Oh, Prince Prospero
All of your dreams
Fade with your last
Dying breath

Poe - Up Through the Spiral

Snatched from out of the ether, here is a heady little slab of Texas psych from the group known in the sixties as Playboys of Edinburg. In 1971 they changed their name to Poe and released this album. Based on the life and writings of psychic and astral projectionist Edgar Cayce, it's a trippy ride through the spheres of existence, grounded in bluesy grit and Little Richard-style piano but constantly swerving into strange tangents and weaving short song fragments into a weird tapestry of occult exploration and transmissions from the neighboring planes.
Your prayers have been answered little boy

Closed on Account of Rabies: Tales of Edgar Allan Poe

Several notches above your normal audio book, these tales and songs of Poe are narrated or performed musically by such diverse talents as Iggy Pop, Debbie Harry, Christopher Walken, Dr. John, and many others. A lofty standard by which many forgettable tribute albums fall far short of.
For Annie.

Lurking Fear - Songs in the Key of Lovecraft

Rudimentary Peni's Cacophony is widely regarded as the most important Lovecraftian punk album, but few seem aware of this forgotten 80's gem by Missouri punkers Lurking Fear, who claim to be inspired by not only H.P.L. but by Poe, Ambrose Bierce, and Alan Moore. This last manifests itself in the the song "Swamp Thing," which morphs from a crazed hardcore stomper into a spacey death-rock groove with Moore's words recited over it, and then bizarrely shifts into the "Wild Thing"-styled theme from the 80's cartoon. Other tracks include "Born in Fear", "Werewolf" in the which the singer howls wildly, and "Innsmouth Bay." The sounds range from caveman pounding to moody, swirly goth, played at the far fringes of competence and traditional notions of what constitutes a song.

There's something in the basement...

Glass Prism - Poe Through the Glass Prism

As I ponder, weak and weary, many quaint and forgotten volume of justifiably obscure prog-rock, my internal symbolic raven croaks threateningly for decades of yore. Widely derided for fusing early Beatles bowl cuts with mid-period Beatles foppery, as if that would phase any old simpleton with a bedroom neo-post-prog audio diary in 2010, doomed psych hopefuls Glass Prism lay the gnarly poetry of Edgar Allen Poe upon a soft bed of Deep Purplish proto-pretentious organ rock. Poe isn't exactly known for his romantic poetry, and Glass Prism isn't exactly known for their groundbreaking sound or bold fashion choices, but this record nonetheless remains a throbbing heart buried 'neath the floorboards, eating away at your conscience.
Nevermore, until tomorrow.