Another rare audio cassette edition of classic 90s-era Cathedral, dug out of the corners of a distant warehouse.

Also available as a CD and DVD set from 2008, now out of print from the label.

"Ride with me on a shooting star ... Through galaxies of death we chase..."

The third album from 1995 is where Cathedral went "stoner rock". Yeaurgh. Motor-revvin' and we're off, "Vampire Sun" bustin' out one of Cathedral's signature mid-90s stoned-groovy monster riffs, downtuned and driving, and catchy as hell. It's peak 70s-worship from these guys, Dorrian dropping his menacing growl for that sleazy "ooo, yeah...gimme... catcall action while the band applies crushing Frostian doom metal guitar tone to 70's-era hard rock riffs powered by just the right level of garage-punk to make almost every song on The Carnival Bizarre a terminal stomper. The vibes remain dark, though: "Hopkins (The Witchfinder General)" is the catchiest cruncher you'll ever hear about Vincent Price burning witches at the stake (no wonder this punisher was also released as a separate EP by Earache, it's one of the hookiest things these guys ever wrote). Yeah, the Hemmer Horror / 1970s-era horror cinema influence is all over the album, and I'm all for it. It gets Sabbathian to the tenth power on "Utopian Blaster", which sounds like something that could have been off of Paranoid; the swift Iommi-esque licks and that monumental chug-a-thon riff later shifting into a slower, more psychedelic groove . Iommi-esque, I say? Good god, it's actually the man himself guesting on guitar for "Blaster", and man does he sound right at home. Another top-notch Cathedral jam. The classic Spanish Blind Dead films get their due with "Night Of The Seagulls", a creeping, crusty dirge built around a slimy, slo-mo riff, wafting spectral electronics and gong strikes, erupting into a churning chorus that burns itself into your skull as it again slowly slides into a repetitious, mesmeric drone-riff.

Like most stylistic shifts, Cathedral's embrace of heavy rock over the glacial death-doom of their earlier material rubbed a bunch of folks the wrong way, back when this came out. And stuff like the title track is certainly a more upbeat direction, even sometimes descending into straight-up silliness, but this still isn't the typical 90s stoner rock fare that some have tried to make it out to be; it's just so goddamned heavy. Even at it's goofiest and grooviest, Garry Jennings' guitar tone is pure lava. There's a lot of cool backing instrumentation that adds dimension, a guest trumpet performance from noted British jazz artist Kenny Ball on the awesome slithering psych-doom of "Fangalactic Supergoria", washes of orchestral cinematic string sounds, whooshing Hawkwidian synthesizers, dazed choirs, trippy Mellotron tones (those rich, gorgeous sounds draped over the oddball boogie of "Blue Light" like something from a Riz Ortolani score) , bongos, gongs. Oo-la-la.

And they'll head off into deep instrumental excursions that stretch out for ages. Even the lesser songs are a blast, moody mid-tempo numbers "Inertia's Cave", Electric Grave", and "Palace Of Fallen Majesty" - the riffs are undeniable. You must submit. The Celtic Frost influence is just so massive on these songs. Cathedrals were, in many ways, at the top of their game here, as far as I'm concerned. You either got the joke or you didn’t. I mean, for god's sake, when Lee starts to tell the listener to "shake that funky thing", you've got to see what's going on here. Tongue in cheek humor not that far removed from Monster Magnet. The spoken-word parts where it sounds like Dorrian is reading from Clark Ashton Smith before they erupt into more bongo-fueled drug-funk. There just so much weird shit going on throughout this aptly-titled album. Some of this is deliberate Sabbath pastiche. Some of this dives into weirder waters. A lot of this applies To Mega Therion guitar tone to hooks honed on hours of listening to Mountain, James Gang, The Stooges, and Sir Lord Baltimore. You tell me that doesn't sound like a good time.