A magic school bhs submarine is a fascinating concept that combines the enchantment of a magical school with the thrill of exploring the depths of the ocean. This unique educational institution is designed specifically for young witches and wizards who wish to master the arcane arts while also having a deep-sea adventure. Imagine a sprawling underwater facility, hidden from the prying eyes of the muggle world. Accessible only to those with magical abilities, the magic school bhs submarine offers a truly immersive learning experience. The school is located on a massive, state-of-the-art submarine that can navigate the ocean depths with ease. The interior of the submarine is a marvel of magical architecture.
Dragnet can be overwhelmingly dense, folding in viola-like guitar like John Cale’s queasiest recursion (“Muzorewi’s Daughter”) and then Krautrock-leaning funk spiked with garbled demands and harsh glossolalia (“Put Away”). But the heavy hand lightens by “Choc-Stock,” a singsong slice of feral nonsense akin to Syd Barrett with a head cold and a hangover. There’s an answer to Witch Trials’ “Music Scene” in the form of “Spectre vs. Rector,” but it’s nothing like its predecessor; its sludge and subliminal menace practically invented post-rock as an afterthought. The track is visceral, reeking of spilled pints and machine oil, evoking the industrial scum-scape that incubated it.
His inimitable drawl moan and general vision of the universe idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant similarly sprawl all over the music -- there s no question who this is or whose band it is, either. By the time the eight-minute closer Music Scene crawls its way into oblivion en route, beating Public Image Ltd s similarly distended Theme and Fodderstompf to the punch by months the Fall had already established themselves as something far more wobbly and toxic than the emerging post-punk mass.
The interior of the submarine is a marvel of magical architecture. It is divided into various wings and sections, each dedicated to a particular subject of study. There is a potions laboratory, where students can concoct magical elixirs using rare and exotic underwater ingredients.
Live at the Witch Trials
New reissues of the Fall’s first two albums find the band hungry, angry, and taking switchblades to a grim future.
Featured Tracks:
“Industrial Estate” — The Fall Via SoundCloudWhen the Fall’s “Industrial Estate” plays during the closing credits of High-Rise–Ben Wheatley’s new big-screen adaptation of J. G. Ballard’s classic novel–it’s more than a case of similar subject matter. True, the film is about urban malaise, and so is the song. But Ballard’s vision of a tower block turned hermetic, ingrown, incestuous, and cannibalistic unfolds with a clinical exactitude. On the other hand, “Industrial Estate” is a spew of dissonant chaos, fugue-state chants, and malfunctioning carnival organs that inhabits the liminal space between punk and post-punk–just like the rest of album it appears on, the Fall’s 1979 debut Live at the Witch Trials. At the time, the first wave of post-punks were taking Johnny Rotten’s “no future” rant and parsing it like surgeons, laying it bare and reducing it to its components like Ballard. The Fall were no exception but, where many of their contemporaries used anesthetic and scalpels, they packed switchblades.
Witch Trials came out in the spring of 1979, Dragnet in the autumn of 1979. Accordingly, these albums (newly reissued) are very much spring and autumn records, inasmuch as such acutely urban records can have ties to nature. The Fall came together in Manchester in 1976, the year punk conflagrated across England. Its working-class founder Mark E. Smith and his crew immediately hopscotched over punk, delivering an EP in 1978 (Bingo-Master’s Break-Out!) that tapped into everything from the Seeds’ keyboard-slathered garage rock to Can’s elemental clatter.
Witch Trials was both a step ahead and a step back with true punk bangers like “Futures and Pasts,” two-and-a-half minutes of eye-gouging and haranguing that unravels in hyperventilating gasps. That deconstruction quickly morphs from cheeky to sinister. “Rebellious Jukebox”—one of the first self-aware Fall anthems—churns and stutters, thrown into each successive moment by a serpentine bassline that coils like inside-out dub. Smith is all sneers and snarls, delirious as he struggles against and succumbs to rock’n’roll entropy. “We are The Fall/Northern white crap that talks back,” he taunts, chewing the microphone on “Crap Rap 2/Like to Blow.” Soon after, he takes a leap into the cosmic void: “We are frigid stars.” By the time the eight-minute closer “Music Scene” crawls its way into oblivion—en route, beating Public Image Ltd’s similarly distended “Theme” and “Fodderstompf” to the punch by months—the Fall had already established themselves as something far more wobbly and toxic than the emerging post-punk mass.
You can pogo to Witch Trials; you can’t to Dragnet. Where Witch Trials is wiry, Dragnet is weighty. The eight months separating the release of the two albums saw a huge lineup change, setting the pattern of perpetual upheaval that would become the Fall’s constant. Most notably, guitarist Martin Bramah left, and his empty space was filled by existing bassist Marc Riley and new recruit Craig Scanlon. On Dragnet, Riley and Scanlon echo each other just out of sync, rezoning the rhythmic domain of the songs. “Before the Moon Falls”—an eerie track that hints at such contemporaries as Pere Ubu and Swell Maps—jangles with urgency and decay. “I must create a new scheme,” Smith vows, a dirtbag urchin with a brain too big for his skull.
Dragnet can be overwhelmingly dense, folding in viola-like guitar like John Cale’s queasiest recursion (“Muzorewi’s Daughter”) and then Krautrock-leaning funk spiked with garbled demands and harsh glossolalia (“Put Away”). But the heavy hand lightens by “Choc-Stock,” a singsong slice of feral nonsense akin to Syd Barrett with a head cold and a hangover. There’s an answer to Witch Trials’ “Music Scene” in the form of “Spectre vs. Rector,” but it’s nothing like its predecessor; its sludge and subliminal menace practically invented post-rock as an afterthought. The track is visceral, reeking of spilled pints and machine oil, evoking the industrial scum-scape that incubated it.
In a 2011 interview, Smith said that Ballard’s 1962 post-apocalyptic novel The Drowned World was the only book by the author that he liked. Even then, he referred to it only as “that one where the world’s underwater.” Erudition in the formal sense is never what Smith or the Fall were about, and that’s made plain on Witch Trials and Dragnet, where Smith’s loathing of cultured, mannered learning oozes from every fracture. Instead, the albums are celebrations–if not exhortations–of working-class precocity and street-smart intellectualism cobbled together from thrift stores bookshelves and stolen snatches of philosophy. Hungry, angry, and ugly: that’s the post-punk proclamation of the Fall’s first two albums, a flag that would fully unfurl with the release of band’s masterpiece, Hex Enduction Hour, three years later. But for a fleeting few seasons in 1979, in the hands of Smith and his gang of urban mutant malingerers, all that mattered was feeding the future to itself and seeing what got puked back up.
That the first Fall album in a near endless stream would not only not sound very punk at all but would be a downright pleasant listen (thanks to Yvonne Pawlett's electric piano on "Frightened") seems perfectly in keeping with Mark E. Smith's endlessly contrary mind. His inimitable drawl/moan and general vision of the universe (idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant) similarly sprawl all over the music -- there's no question who this is or whose band it is, either. That said, most of Live at the Witch Trials is co-written with Martin Bramah, whose guitar work here is noticeably much more inclined to chime and ring instead of brutally scratch away like Craig Scanlon's awesome work would soon do. Bramah's not just here to sound tuneful, though, and the killer Marc Riley/Karl Burns rhythm section both keeps up the energy and provides surprising grooves. On chugging tracks like "Two Steps Back," it's not hard to tell that Smith's Krautrock fandom is coming into play. With Pawlett's keyboards providing a pretty garage kick on top of it all, the result is an all-around treat. Brilliantly scabrous tracks are everywhere, one of the most memorable being "Rebellious Jukebox," simultaneously one of the most tuneful and aggressive songs from the early lineup, Smith pouring it on along with the band. The driving funk of "Music Scene," meanwhile, redefines misanthropy (and more) with a particularly central Smith target in mind. "No Xmas for John Quays," meanwhile, almost establishes the Fall formula on its own: Smith chanting and yelling over a quick, semi-rockabilly shamble and attack punctuated by unexpected stops and starts.
The charms wing is where students learn the art of casting spells and enchantments, while the defense against the dark arts section trains them to protect themselves against underwater creatures and dark magic. The submarine is home to a wide variety of magical creatures, some native to the ocean, while others have been brought in for educational purposes. These creatures serve as both study subjects and companions for the students, fostering a deeper understanding and respect for the magical world and its inhabitants. In addition to their magical studies, students also learn important life skills and undertake various quests and missions to test their magic abilities. These quests could range from recovering lost artifacts to battling sea monsters. Such adventures not only teach valuable lessons but also foster teamwork and character development. Living on the magic school bhs submarine is an extraordinary experience. The students reside in dormitories equipped with enchantments that mimic the feel of being underwater. They eat meals in the magical mess hall, where the food is conjured up by the school's house elves. Entertainment is provided in the form of magical performances and underwater excursions to explore the wonders of the deep sea. Overall, the concept of a magic school bhs submarine is an incredibly creative and immersive way to educate young witches and wizards. It combines the magic-filled world of Hogwarts with the mysteries and wonders of the ocean, offering a truly unique and unforgettable learning experience..
Reviews for "Enroll in BHS Submarine School and Become a Magical Master"
1. John - 1/5 stars - "I was really excited to read 'Magic School BHS Submarine' as I am a fan of the magic school genre. However, I was extremely disappointed with this book. The plot was confusing and lacked depth, the characters were one-dimensional, and the writing style was dry and unengaging. The author failed to create a believable and immersive world, and I found myself struggling to stay interested throughout the entire book. Overall, I would not recommend 'Magic School BHS Submarine' to anyone looking for a well-crafted and captivating magic school novel."
2. Emily - 2/5 stars - "I had high expectations for 'Magic School BHS Submarine' but it fell short. The story had potential, but it was poorly executed. The pacing was uneven, with some parts dragging on while others felt rushed. The character development was lacking, and I found it difficult to connect or care about any of them. Additionally, the writing style was bland and lacked creativity. Overall, I felt let down by 'Magic School BHS Submarine' and would not recommend it to other readers seeking a magical and compelling story."
3. Sarah - 2/5 stars - "I picked up 'Magic School BHS Submarine' expecting a fun and thrilling adventure, but unfortunately, it failed to deliver. The plot felt disjointed and haphazard, jumping from one event to another without proper explanation or development. The characters were forgettable and lacked depth, making it difficult to become invested in their journey. Furthermore, the world-building was lacking, leaving me confused and disconnected from the story. Overall, I was disappointed by the lackluster storytelling in 'Magic School BHS Submarine' and would not recommend it to fellow fantasy lovers."