'That old black magic', Michael Walters, Sunday Sun, 15 March 1970

Sunday Sun (Newcastle upon Tyne), 15 March 1970, page 14, in Michael Walters's London Scene column. A report on the Leicester rock band Black Widow staging the 'ritual blood sacrifice of Astaroth' for CBS in Denmark Street, London. Alex Sanders is there as 'occult overseer'. He says the band had been threatened by anonymous phone calls from witches, that he is lending Maxine to help with the act, and that he will hand over witchcraft rituals to the six musicians and train them. 'They are going to be a leading troupe in the very near future.' The archive holds a Black Widow publicity photograph of Alex and Maxine with the band, with Maxine's note on playing the demon. How to cite: Michael Walters, 'That old black magic', Sunday Sun, 15 March 1970, p. 14. Alexandrian Witchcraft Timeline & Archive.

LONDON SCENE: MICHAEL WALTERS That old black magic SHE shrugged her red velvet cloak around her ankles and stood spellbound, her bare white flesh shining cold through the flimsy chiffon. And then glided towards the beckoning figure in black as the light dimmed and blue shadows crept across the room. As the beat throbbed hypnotically on, the two bodies swayed close, touching, embracing, writhing, locked together on the floor. Apart again, he stripped to the waist and she now pale and naked beneath stark strips of silver tape. Twisting and leaping in the gloom, she finally succumbed and lay prone in the mist which hung above the floor as the pulse of the music drove him savagely on to plunge a sword deep in her passive body, again and again. Like, er, Man, that old black magic’s getting them in its spell in darkest Denmark Street. Just down the road from Soho’s “Naked City” and other select clubs for discerning gentry, the ritual blood sacrifice of Astaroth got under way last week, courtesy of CBS and Black Widow. It's all good, clean, pop fun for the kids, of course. Alex Sanders, the King of the Witches, is on hand as occult overseer, and he assured me that it is simply an extension of the hippy philosophies we have all grown to know and love. As head of the occult establishment, he finds a lot of people are coming to him now. Refuting sceptical suggestions that the pop world might merely be exploiting black magic, he assures me that black widows are very real. He is on hand because the boys were being threatened by anonymous phone calls from witches. They had been involved in car accidents, lost their regular girl at the 11th hour, and had got very worried. Alex – “I hate witches” - is the boss of the European Occult Scene, and in addition to lending his wife to help out in the act, is taking care of the group and correcting their errors. It goes without saying that he is exercising a little influence, and he tells me that he has assured them of success. “They are going to be a leading troupe in the very near future,” he remarks with the confidence of a man who really knows – “This is only the beginning.” Crowned King of the Witches in 1965 by 13 high priestesses who were deeply impressed by his powers, he is going to hand over details of the witchcraft rituals to the six lads from Leicester who make up Black Widow, and train them in the black and white mysteries. All of the occult chants will be set to music, and Alex foresees public performances to expand the circle. Somehow the musical qualities of Black Widow were overshadowed for a mere onlooker by the sight of Astaroth being sacrificed, but their one contribution to the excellent CBS sample, “Fill Your Head With Rock,” shows some promise. Certainly they sound vastly superior to Black Sabbath, whose first album of Vertigo is selling well.