Kryst the Conqueror: the Misfits’ forgotten Christian band
New Jersey horror punks the Misfits are seemingly the last place anyone would look for Christian guidance.
Forming an essential cohort within the New York punk scene, Misfits marked a character entirely their own. Sporting their signature devilocks and comic goth look, EC Comics tales of murder and B-movie horror would fuel frontman Glenn Danzig’s bellowing vocal attack, backed by the brawny metal-leaning riffage of Jerry Only and younger brother Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, who joined in 1980. Standing with cryptic allure as their emblematic centre was the iconic Crimson Ghost insignia, a fixture of the hard rock landscape to this day.
Yet, the ensemble was always struck by creative and personal rocky waters. Scrappy studio sessions, listless touring legs, infighting, and summary member sackings all took their toll after forming in 1977. Not long after 1982’s Walk Among Us, Danzig was already harbouring thoughts of quitting the band. After one final Halloween show in Detroit’s Greystone Hall, Danzig announced their dissolution on stage there and then.
Danzig would find fame in the heavy metal world, initially fronting Samhain before operating under his mononymous moniker, entering the new decade with excursions into epic hard rock bombast that explored bluesy stroll and even a later Elvis Presley covers album.
Only and Doyle moved back to their hometown of Vernon to work at their father’s factory full-time. Yet Only was troubled. Now married with children, his private Christian convictions began to be nagged by his dallying with the whole horror punk business. Further dismayed by Danzig’s earnest embrace of the occult and esoteric in his music, Only and his brother Frankenstein—Gerard Jr and Paul Caiafa, respectively, if you were wondering—sought to conceive a new project that would wield heavy metal as a means of shining a light towards Jesus Christ’s good word, and dissuading impressionable young minds to be pulled in to Danzig’s evil theatre.
Kryst the Conqueror was born. Formed around 1988, the brothers would swap skeletal clobber and devilocks for barbarian get-up and flowing locks that would turn Conan green with envy. Recruiting future Journey vocalist Jeff Scott Soto as a session singer, 13 songs were cut for their planned Deliver Us from Evil album, all gusto, thunderous metal affirmation of resisting Satan’s pernicious influence and staying within the Lord’s merciful light. The debut never saw the light of day, but five numbers were selected for the EP downsize in 1989, released as a limited Christmas package for diehard fans.
Kryst the Conqueror would limp along until 1995, recruiting Dr Chud as a drummer but never playing live or cutting new material. Gaining the rights to the Misfits name, the three retooled the old horror punk outfit with new frontman Michale Graves, and unleashed their second hurrah with the anthemic metal American Psycho and Famous Monsters albums.
Was Kryst the Conqueror any good? Could’ve been worse. A perfectly respectable cartoon metal strut with ripping solos and a cavernous riffage that stands tall with the thrash bunch earlier in the decade. They’re better than Stryper at least, the hair metal group who pursued spandex Christian rock with infinitely more silliness.
