Some might say Cradle of Filth has too many albums. In fact, we’d say that. So here we go: Cradle of Filth has too many albums. Seriously. We’re fans, but there’s like 3 or 4 in here that we completely forgot existed. And prior to making this list, several albums here had gotten maybe, MAYBE, one full listen. The thing is, their good stuff is great. They have like 7 really solid albums. This is pretty incredible considering how many bands can barely put out one. Something that the band is both praised and hated for is their willingness to embrace the whole camp of it all. And in that, they can come off really cheesy, which works. It can make some of their harder to swallow stuff actually much more digestible. But let us not pretend it’s something it’s not: it’s cheese. And as we all know, some cheese is better than others.
Also, let’s be real: they were never trve kvlt black metal. They’re theater kids from Shropshirefordbagginsworthmouthfordport or wherever in England. So the whole “their early stuff is the only REAL metal they made” nonsense doesn’t work. And just a reminder, we only rank full-length OG albums and they have like a billion EPs, live albums, compilations, and re-rereleases, so there’s a good chance your favorite release isn’t on the list. Alas.
13. Thornograpy (2006)
“Thornography” was one of the band’s more obvious attempts at breaking into the mainstream. Unfortunately what makes it so obvious is that it sucks. No shade for trying to sell out. We’d do it if anyone was buying. Healthcare is expensive, and capitalism is a death cult. We all gotta pay bills. But if you’re gonna sell out and pander, please make it better than this album. It’s not like it’s terrible or anything. Honestly, none of their albums are unlistenable. But when you have 40-something releases out, you gotta give us a reason to care about specific albums. And with this one, we don’t.
Play it again: “I Am the Thorn”
Skip it: “Temptation”
12. Darkly, Darkly Venus Aversa (2010)
More like “Boring, Boring Venus Aversa.” This album sounds like a generic CoF album, and not in a particularly good (or bad?) way. It’s got some songs. It has some spooky sounds. Dani Filth screeches a bunch. It’s fine. But there is literally nobody on earth who has this listed as their favorite album of all time. Literally nobody. Also, the Tim Burton/Hot Topic album art isn’t helping.
Play it again: “The Cult of Venus Aversa”
Skip it: “Forgive Me Father (I Have Sinned)” is just bad
11. Cryptoriana – The Seductiveness of Decay (2017)
Cradle of Filth seemingly has two types of album covers: A.) Fucking sick! Or B.) I’m embarrassed to own this. So while supposedly “Cryptoriana – The Seductiveness of Decay” is probably an ok album, it is solidly in the B category, because we couldn’t get past the cover. It’s bad. Sure the art is competently done, but so was “Young Sheldon.” So no, we didn’t listen to this album. At all. The only reason it’s not last is because it seems to be a popular one of the modern era. But we’re not getting past the cover. Seriously, everything about this cover feels like the band is watching you change without your consent. And I don’t know about you, but here at Hard Times Incorporated, we won’t watch you change without your consent.
Play it again: Couldn’t tell you
Skip it: agreed
10. The Manticore and Other Horrors (2012)
Kinda forgot this one existed. Lots of people like it, but the production feels off and Dani’s vocals are even less appealing than usual. Like most of the albums on this half of the list, there’s just nothing pulling us in besides name recognition. That said, because we’re not nerds, we had never heard the word “manticore” prior to this album coming out. But the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a manticore as “a legendary animal with the head of a man, the body of a lion, and the tail of a dragon or scorpion” and honestly that’s pretty dope.
Play it again: “The Abhorrent”
Skip it: “Frost on Her Pillow”
9. Godspeed on the Devil’s Thunder (2008)
This album is overall pretty meh. It’s pretty rare that we come back to this one at all. In fact it would be lower on this list if not for one song title that cracks our shit up, every. damn. time. “Shat out of Hell” will never not be funny. If you’re not laughing, then you’re not picturing Meat Loaf bellowing “SHAT OUT OF HELL I’LL BE GONE WHEN THE MORNING COMES!” Incredible. Otherwise the album is whatevs. And it definitely loses points for having a track called “Tragic Kingdom” despite it not being a No Doubt cover. Bogus.
Play it again: “Shat out of Hell”
Skip it: “Tragic Kingdom”
8. Nymphetimine (2004)
This album came out in between “Damnation and a Day” and “Thornography,” and it sounds like it. There are epic moments and some actual bangers, but overall it feels like the band is stretched a little thin. It almost feels like they threw everything they had at “Damnation and a Day” and then when it didn’t do well they kinda just slapped a bunch of leftover “Damnation” riffs together and tried to make things a little more palatable for the mainstream. This album teeters right on the edge of being good and bad, depending on our mood.
Play it again: “Nemesis”
Skip it: “Nymphetimine Fix”
7. The Principle of Evil Made Flesh (1994)
Starting with this album, everything from now on is a “good” CoF album. This one is kind of like the classic film “Nosferatu.” Not the new remake. The old-ass one. It’s classic and honestly pretty great. But are you gonna watch it more than once a year? Nah. That’s this album. It’s miles better than some of their more recent and boring stuff, but it still feels like nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake.
Play it again: “The Forest Whispers My Name”
Skip it: “One Final Graven Kiss”
6. Existence is Futile (2021)
From the jump, great title. And for being their newest release, “Existence is Futile” is pretty solid. It’s kinda like the AFC Bournemouth of CoF albums. It’s never gonna be number one. It’s just not gonna happen. But it’s not even close to being in last place. And honestly, when it comes down to it, this album goes pretty hard. The cover art is… trying. It’s trying its best. It’s like almost scary? The problem is unless you’re looking at it close up, it kinda looks like a giant ant in a chair. Which I guess is cool. Ants are actually pretty neat.
Play it again: “Unleash the Hellion”
Skip it: “Discourse Between a Man and His Soul”
5. Hammer of the Witches (2015)
First off, the album title rules. Easily their most metal-sounding album title. For a band that puts out a lot of cutesy, winky, spooky album titles, this one is just so sick. On top of it, this album rips. Out of all the “modern era” CoF albums, this one is easily the most re-listenable. It blends the riffs and the orchestral/keyboard shit in a way that harkens back to the heyday of the band. And speaking of riffs: they got some riffs. We can’t exactly put our finger on why the riffs riff so hard on this album, compared to their other newer stuff, but they do. They riff. Hard. Hard Riffs. The hardest. Of riff. So hard, those riffs. Hard riffs, riffing hard. I’m having a stroke.
Play it again: “Yours Immortally…”
Skip it: “Blooding the Hounds of Hell”
4. Dusk… and Her Embrace (1996)
We know. It should be number one or whatever. We never get album rankings right. Do we even listen to CoF? Etc etc etc. Look, It’s a good album and there are some all-time tracks on here, but it’s just not as good as the other ones on this list. If “The Principle of Evil Made Flesh” was “Nosferatu” then this album is Coppola’s Dracula with Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder. It’s kinda corny, but it’s also super awesome. And you’re pretty much never not in the mood for it. It’s a solid reminder of where the band came from. And thankfully the albums ranked higher prove that the promise of this album wasn’t a fluke. Plus the last minute of the title track absolutely rips.
Play it again: “Funeral in Carpathia,” and “Dusk and Her Embrace”
Skip it: We can get down with some of their intros, but “Humana Inspired to Nightmare” is a bridge too far for us.
3. Cruelty and the Beast (1998)
This album should be number one. But the drum production is embarrassingly bad. It makes Lars’ “St. Anger” drum sound seem ahead of its time and punchy. Speaking of Metallica, the drum production on this album feels like a prank on the level of the bass on “…And Justice for All.” Like the band were intentionally being dicks, thinking it was funny, and now the album sucks. The drums on this album sound like Nick Barker played on a cardboard box. Which is wild, considering he is EASILY a top 5 metal drummer of all time. He’s rumored to have quit the band over what they did to his drums, and we don’t blame him. They recently remastered “Cruelty and the Beast,” and so obviously it sounds better now. But at Hard Times, it’s OG or go home. And the OG version of the drums on this album suck a butt. In a bad way.
Play it again: “Cruelty Brought Thee Orchids”
Skip it: “Portrait of a Dead Countess” is entirely unneeded.
2. Damnation and a Day (2003)
Here’s the thing: People hate this album, and it doesn’t make sense. This album fucking shreds. It’s over-the-top, out of control and pompous. It’s genuinely everything we love about Cradle of Filth. Is it too long? Yeah, but literally every single one of their albums is. That’s like saying you don’t like this album because Dani Filth makes a screechy sound. This album has the riffs, it has the moody vibes, it has a concept. But most importantly it has a budget. DaaD is the band’s one and only major label album, and they milked that shit for everything it’s worth. Some bands sound better when they’re recorded on a phone behind a dive bar. Cradle of Filth sounds best with the 101-piece Budapest Film Orchestra. It’s their longest album and it’s their most epic album. And were it not for how good number 1 is, it’d be the pinnacle of what this band does.
Play it again: “Presents from the Poison-Hearted,” “Hurt and Virtue,” and “The Promise of Fever”
Skip it: “Babylon A.D. (So Glad for the Madness)
1. Midian (2000)
If you’re a fan, you already know. This is it. This is the most “Cradle of Filth” Cradle of Filth album. It’s gothic and scary but also so corny in the best way. They take it so seriously and yet the whole album feels like a giant wink. But then the riffs are so killer this whole album is a paradox. It’s a heavy, heavy album that also heavily features the harpsichord setting on the Casio. Why does it work so well? Who knows. But it does, and its their best. HARD TIMES HAVE SPOKEN!
Play it again: yes.
Skip it: don’t
Not only does Pete get to make out with Patricia Arquette, but when they’re ambushed by Andy (Michael Massee), he executes a flawless WWE-style rolling kick-throw that launches Andy across the room. Unfortunately, there’s a glass coffee table in the middle of that room, which pretty much perfectly bisects his head. In keeping with the typical Lynchian aesthetic, Pete and Alice examine this tableau with little more than bemused curiosity.
So you’ve just endured almost 3 hours of arthouse experimental horror insanity? Here’s some jumpscare nightmare fuel to send you home in a state of paralytic anxiety.
After countless slasher flicks throughout the ‘70s and ‘80s gave us all kinds of ways that popular blonde girls could be killed, Lynch outclasses them all with a scene that is genuinely touching, emotionally gutwrenching, and terrifying. The cry of “Please don’t make me do this!” will stick with you for quite a while.
After one of the most unsettling scenes of sexual assault in cinema history, Bobby Peru pulls a heist with Sailor in which he shoots two store clerks and then prepares to kill Sailor as well. Then he gets into a firefight with a sheriff’s deputy, somehow falls to his knees with his own shotgun jammed into his neck, and, well, remember Sub-Zero’s fatality in the OG “Mortal Kombat” game? The next few seconds are basically that.
The entire movie is messed up, though not in the same sort of existential freak-out way that Lynch’s other films are. More in a “Wow, people actually spent creative energy and money to make this movie, that’s a shame” sort of way.
In a tight 2 minutes, the opening sequence to Lynch’s masterpiece puts across a pretty well-trodden idea: Beneath the placid surface of Anytown USA, dark and anti-social forces lurk, just waiting to infest all that is good and righteous. It’s a cliché premise that’s been explored in cinema from Hitchcock’s “Shadow of a Doubt” to “American Beauty,” but nobody does it quite like Lynch. With nothing but a montage of oversaturated images and a Bobby Vinton song, this scene not only introduces the theme of the entire film, but subtly suggests that the people on the “good” side of this duality are unknowingly empowering the dark side. And all this before Kyle MacLachlan even finds that ear.
Even the first time you see the movie, you know it’s coming. Two men in Winkie’s Diner literally just discussed a nightmare about how fear leads to more fear, and how that fear is, naturally enough, wielded by a filthy man who hides in the dumpster behind Winkie’s, and as they leave the diner to see if the man is real, every single aspect of the cinematography tells you a jumpscare is coming, and then, sure as shootin’, it comes, but you still jump a mile and shriek like a toddler.
Robert Blake’s first appearance at a distinctively Lynchian party in the Hollywood Hills makes for one of those scenes that sort of splits the difference between funny and terrifying. Sure, he freaks out Fred with the ol’ “I’m both here and at your house at once!” parlor trick, and it’s creepy, but he still seems like an affable fellow. But when he appears in a VHS shot along with Fred’s murdered wife a little later? You’re gonna need a minute.
So you found out your friend hasn’t seen “Blue Velvet,” and you were like “Dude! You haven’t seen ‘Blue Velvet’?! That’s crazy, we gotta watch it right now!” and it’s going pretty well until the scene where Jeffrey spies on Dorothy and Frank while they do their whole non-consensual BDSM with amyl nitrate in a gas mask thing, and suddenly your friend is looking at you like you’re a psychopath for owning this movie, and all your protestations about how it’s the greatest art film of the 1980s and was basically Lynch’s redemption project after “Dune” shit the bed can’t make up for the fact that you just made your buddy sit through one of the most depraved scenes ever put on film.
There’s really not a single scene in this movie that isn’t deeply unsettling to the point of making you feel vaguely violated and dirty. The smash cut to the baby covered in sores? The Vaudeville-on-acid spectacle of the Girl in the Radiator? Henry being decapitated by the giant phallic parasite thing that apparently lives inside him? All good candidates for number 1, but for our money it’s the long sequence in which Henry visits his girlfriend Mary and her deranged parents, only to be slapped with paternal responsibility for the infamously inhuman “Eraserhead Baby.” Whether it’s Mary’s out-of-nowhere seizure that doesn’t even stop Henry from talking about his job as a printer, or Mary’s mother’s attempt to make out with him, or her making a salad by manipulating a comatose old woman’s hands like a marionette, or the giant parody of a grin on Mary’s father’s face as he talks about being a plumber, this scene is offputting in a way you can feel in your bones. But it’s the carving of the homemade chickens that will really stick with you. Lynch’s career-long fascination with the intertwined dynamics of the organic and the mechanical really comes home to roost (as it were) in this immortal moment of surrealist indie filmmaking.