Black Acid Vampire Girl began as a joke of sorts and ended up being dead serious.
There are a host of pseudo metal bands in IC--mostly of the nu-metal variety. BAVG began as an opposition to this gut wrenching mediocrity. Being huge fans of Manowar, Gwar and Iron-Maiden, they couldn't stomach the wall of sterile, digitized guitar static that most new bands seemed to be laying on as thick as the Creed-like Godliness of their lyrics. BAVG is a return to the classic days of metal when men were Men, metalheads wore studs and Scott Stapp was nothing more than a bothersome STD.
Muse was a pre-release to what was supposed to have been a double-CD. The title of this fortuitous work remains as mysterious as the untimely demise of the band. The CD was supposed to be an epic concept album combining two-parts Homer's Odyssey, one-part Dante's Inferno, and three vials of blood-soaked ink squeezed from the pages of Ann Rice. (Erotica included.) Then tragedy struck as 2 of the members disappeared one night after paying homage to that gothic staple of urban lore: Iowa City's own "Black Angel." Rumor has it that they did the unthinkable and gazed straight into the eyes of the ominous grave-marker. It has long been believed that such an act would cause one to shed their physical flesh and join in the spiritual service of that same Dark Angel -- to forever roam the cemetery as a Archangelic Sentry -- doing the bidding of their glorious black-winged Queen of the Night. Here then--is the only recorded track as of yet ever made available. It is well known that the band's producer, Envictar Victar has the rough demo tapes locked up and is waiting for the return of the two original members--alive, dead or undead to complete the record. We wait with bated breath...
Rumors have it this recording will be unearthed at some point in the near future.
Muse
Her eyes are spirit-torches smoking with her rage
Her touch the scarlet razor bleeding words onto the page
Her voice a siren enchanting thoughts out of the dark
Her kiss is a gift that can ignite your soul with a spark
I wait within this cell for something I can use
Hazel-eyed Muse
The scythe-like moon cuts through the sky, her reflection blazes
Mischievous ghosts of dreamscape have all been freed from their cages
On the wings of the Sunbird I search for her treasured spawn
I can only sense her essence and discern the echo of her song
Her thoughts are like a flaming tongue dancing upon my fuse
Hazel-eyed Muse
Out of the darkness of my imagination
Into the sunlight of my creation
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