Watching Suburban Sasquatch last night and then reviewing it today reminded me of how much more I enjoyed Birdemic. Suburban Sasquatch would have been improved by a dance scene.
I wonder how the birds could possibly want to destroy a civilization that is capable of something like Hanging Out With My Family.
Today’s song of the day comes from the soundtrack of one of the greatest Canadian films ever made, 1980’s Prom Night! I dare you not to dance!
If you’re new to Iron Maiden and want to experience a melodic metal song that doubles as a horror anthem, “Fear of the Dark” is a must-listen. Written and composed by Steve Harris, Iron Maiden’s bassist and primary songwriter, the song vividly captures that feeling of walking alone at night with the uneasy sensation that something might be lurking just out of sight. It’s a powerful exploration of a common fear—the discomfort and paranoia that darkness brings—which makes it feel like a spooky bedtime story set to powerful music.
What really makes this song stand out is how the music and Bruce Dickinson’s dramatic vocals work together to build tension and then release it. The guitars start slow and eerie, setting a creepy atmosphere, then shift into faster, catchy melodies that ramp up the excitement and nervous energy. Dickinson’s voice is full of drama and really sells that feeling of fear mixed with urgency. It’s not just heavy music; it’s storytelling with heart and melody.
Plus, the lyrics reference classic horror themes like watching scary movies and ancient folklore, which makes the song feel timeless and accessible. It’s a perfect gateway into how metal bands can blend melody with horror themes, making it approachable even if you’re not usually into heavy music. Overall, “Fear of the Dark” showcases Iron Maiden’s skill at creating music that is not only thrilling but also emotionally gripping and narratively rich.
Fear of the Dark
I am a man who walks alone
And when I’m walking a dark road
At night or strolling through the park
When the light begins to change
I sometimes feel a little strange
A little anxious when it’s dark
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that something’s always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone’s always there
Have you run your fingers down the wall
And have you felt your neck skin crawl
When you’re searching for the light?
Sometimes when you’re scared to take a look
At the corner of the room
You’ve sensed that something’s watching you
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that something’s always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone’s always there
Have you ever been alone at night
Thought you heard footsteps behind
And turned around, and no one’s there?
And as you quicken up your pace
You find it hard to look again
Because you’re sure there’s someone there
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that something’s always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone’s always there
Watching horror films the night before
Debating witches and folklore
The unknown troubles on your mind
Maybe your mind is playing tricks
You sense, and suddenly eyes fix
On dancing shadows from behind
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear that something’s always near
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone’s always there
When I’m walking a dark road
I am a man who walks alone
“You are all my children now.”
Hey, does that voice sound familiar? Who would have thought you could dance to Freddy Krueger?
Some people have told me that they find the clown in this video to even scarier than Freddy.
Today’s horror song of the day comes from Dario Argento’s Deep Red!
Deep Red features the first collaboration between Argento and Goblin and the score remains a classic and one that I listen to every October.
Here’s Goblin performing Profondo Rosso on Italian television in 1975.
Metallica’s “The Call of Ktulu” is like an eerie soundtrack to something ancient and terrifying lurking just beneath the surface. The whole song feels like a slow, deliberate wake-up call for an otherworldly monster straight out of Lovecraft’s nightmares. Without any lyrics, it’s the music itself that tells the story—starting off quiet and haunting, then gradually building layers of tension like the air getting heavier before a storm, pulling you into an unsettling experience of growing dread.
What’s cool is how each instrument adds its own flavor to that feeling. Cliff Burton’s bass rumbles low and deep, almost like the sea itself is grumbling, while the guitars slowly creep in with sharp, sometimes almost claw-like riffs. Lars Ulrich’s drums keep everything feeling urgent without rushing it, like the heartbeat of something big and unstoppable. It’s not just playing metal riffs; it’s like they’re painting a picture of a cosmic beast stirring from an ancient sleep, and you can’t look away even though you’re scared.
Interestingly, “The Call of Ktulu” was initially started by Dave Mustaine before his dismissal from Metallica, but it ultimately became a collaborative piece among all four original band members. Released as part of their 1984 album Ride the Lightning, the song reached new heights when performed with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra on the live album S&M. The legendary composer Michael Kamen arranged and conducted the orchestral parts, adding sweeping strings and powerful brass that turned the track into an apocalyptic ritual of sound, blending Metallica’s heavy riffs with symphonic grandeur and amplifying the song’s cosmic horror vibe to an unforgettable level.
Since we are now halfway through October, it only seems appropriate to share what may be the most famous (and perhaps the most covered) song about witchcraft, Donavon’s Season of the Witch!
This song was originally recorded in 1966 and it’s gone on to become a Halloween mainstay. One fan of the song was future director Martin Scorsese, who originally planned to borrow the song’s title for one of his own films. However, George Romero beat Scorsese out the gate with a film called Season of the Witch and Scorsese ended up renaming his film, Mean Streets.
Diabolical Masquerade’s “Haunted by Horror”, from the album Nightwork (1998), feels like getting lost in a crumbling old mansion where every shadow has a story. The guitars grind and spiral while eerie melodies sneak around the corners, giving it that perfect mix of gothic drama and black metal intensity. It’s messy in the best way — like a fever dream scored by ghosts and vintage film reels.
The whole thing swings between chaos and calm, pulling from classic European horror vibes — Hammer films, giallo soundtracks, and a hint of early Lovecraft moodiness. One minute it’s a frantic chase through candlelit halls, the next it’s quiet enough to hear the walls breathe. That cinematic tension makes it feel alive, like the song itself is telling a forgotten horror tale.
What ties it together is Blakkheim’s flair for theater. He leans into the atmosphere with a wink, and you can almost picture velvet capes, fog machines, and flickering projector light behind it all. “Haunted by Horror” doesn’t just use horror for decoration; it lives in it, turning those old-school scares into something weird, stylish, and unmistakably metal.
Haunted by Horror
The shadow we forgot of the dead some tragedy
I’m crush dead frays out fame it to do
Path of blackness the path to mighty forest
Bleaching through defeat it purr back its wallow it shay: pick turn infernal
Gave it to the spat the forest lent be hide look at this sane legion we’re won’t to die
Desire in latch we want it forehead and captured within for resole is side
Breed on slowly doubt pride pay be frosted on dot haunted moon
So I am the dead, arrow blood and thunder
Make me wonder of the hate and moon clays
Turn back the fault shove me with anger
And revolve of the blood with hatch never be dead
Fallen for reborn I am is stand in high
Rising for dying dream ultimate in shade
If you’re into heavy music with a dark, spooky vibe, Metallica’s “The Thing That Should Not Be” is a must-listen. The song draws heavy inspiration from H.P. Lovecraft’s stories about ancient sea monsters and forbidden gods — you can feel that eerie cosmic horror flowing through the lyrics and music. Unlike their faster, thrashy songs, this one’s slower and heavier, building this oppressive, almost underwater atmosphere that really pulls you into a different world. The sounds perfectly suit a cosmic horror soundtrack, like you’re hearing something ancient waking up beneath the surface.
Every member of Metallica brings something special here. James Hetfield’s vocals nail that storytelling vibe, like he’s warning you about unspeakable horrors. Kirk Hammett’s guitar solo adds a weird, haunting layer with its echoing bends and wild tone, totally fitting the Lovecraftian theme. Cliff Burton’s bass work gives the song a thick, gnarly depth that makes everything feel huge and otherworldly, while Lars Ulrich’s steady drumming drives the mood without rushing it. Together, they craft this dense, crushing atmosphere that feels like it could be the soundtrack to a cosmic nightmare.
If you want to hear the song take on an epic new dimension, check out the S&M version with the San Francisco Symphony. The orchestra adds massive, cinematic power, turning the track into a full-on cosmic horror soundtrack. The strings and brass layer in this grand, haunting sound that makes the whole thing feel even more apocalyptic and intense. It’s like Metallica took their already heavy and spooky song and gave it the kind of scale and depth that only a symphony can provide. Definitely worth a listen if you want to experience cosmic horror in both metal and orchestral form.
The Thing That Should Not Be
Messenger of fear in sight
Dark deception kills the light
Hybrid children watch the sea
Pray for father, roaming free
Fearless wretch
Insanity
He watches
Lurking beneath the sea
Great old one
Forbidden site
He searches
Hunter of the shadows is rising
Immortal
In madness you dwell
Crawling chaos, underground
Cult has summoned, twisted sound
Out from ruins once possessed
Fallen city, living death
Fearless wretch
Insanity
He watches
Lurking beneath the sea
Timeless sleep
Has been upset
He awakens
Hunter of the shadows is rising
Immortal
In madness you dwell
[Guitar solo]
Not dead which eternal lie
Stranger eons death may die
Drain you of your sanity
Face the thing that should not be
Fearless wretch
Insanity
He watches
Lurking beneath the sea
Great old one
Forbidden site
He searches
Hunter of the shadows is rising
Immortal
In madness you dwell
Mike Oldfield didn’t write Tubular Bells specifically for The Exorcist but it’s a song that works perfectly for the film. Oldfield’s song, which was rumored to have originally envisioned as being a Christmas instrumental, become an iconic horror them.
Through the Shattered Lens 