Today's Metal Tune

Realm’s Endless War was a slight departure for Roadrunner at the time, as the band’s tech thrash stylings weren’t exactly in line with the label’s predominantly extreme roster in the late ‘80s.  But by the same token, “Slay the Oppressor” represented a certain faction of the underground defined by groups like Watchtower and to a lesser extent Annihilator, and Roadrunner was very much about the underground: the track didn’t have the dizzying technicality of the former nor the songwriting acumen of the latter, but its focused aggression certainly stood out next to the wooly mayhem of early Sepultura and Deicide.  The power of the musicianship was first and foremost for Realm, and that came through on “Slay the Oppressor” in a way that made them slightly ahead of their time.

Don Dokken’s always questionable vocal ability became even more glaring when he put out a compilation of cheaply re-recorded greatest hits some 20 years after his namesake band peaked, but “Magic Man” had a bit more life to it thanks to Jon Levin’s fiery riffing and solos.  Levin was clearly aiming for (and was definitely tasked with) a George Lynch vibe and he mostly came through here, enough so that it was a rare instance where a “new” track outshined the more familiar hits, particularly since its newness could cover up Don’s vastly diminished range.  Credit was also naturally due longtime drummer Mick Brown who hadn’t lost a step and matched Levin in liveliness and did more than Don to make “Magic Man” feel like a proper Dokken track.

How exactly Philip Boa was able to coax the likes of Dave Lombardo, Mille Petrozza, Waldemar Sorychta and Chuck Schuldiner to both play on the same record as well play supporting roles remains unclear, but Jesus Killing Machine not only featured all of the above in 1994 but didn’t sound anything like any of their day jobs.  “Metallizzed Kids” was a terribly spelled mid ‘90s industrial thrash number that maybe nodded to what Kreator was going for at the time, but this was really Boa’s show and his vocals stuck out over the clanging.  The guitars and drums sounded really good, but the tune felt a minute or so longer than necessary and began to get tedious towards the end- this was very much a product of its time so there was only so much anvil pounding one could take.

“Trust No One” was heavier than usual for Sinner (especially considering it was a solo Mat Sinner composition), with steady double kick propulsion and fat power chords slammed with force by Tom Naumann.  It fit within the overall construct of The Nature of Evil as a logical continuation of the more forceful sounds of Judgement Day, and indeed the guitars and drums did a lot of heavy lifting since Mat’s vocals and lyrics were still ridiculous tough guy nonsense with questionable syntax and gnarled garbled gesticulating.  That the crunch of the guitars was so powerful while the vocals were so lame proved important, as Mat Sinner and Tom Naumann would basically bring this approach to Ralf Scheepers in assembling Primal Fear.

Abigail wasn’t that far removed from Fatal Portrait on a musical level, but King Diamond’s second record was where the whole idea behind the band snapped into focus.  Whether one followed the narratives the lyrics and vocals meshed seamlessly with the tech/goth/thrash hybrid that Andy LaRocque, Michael Denner, Timi Hansen and the irrepressible Mikkey Dee cranked out in lockstep, making tracks like “The Possession” work as both a link in the storyline and slamming standalone headbanger.  One might’ve expected the tune to sound more like Mercyful Fate given it was written by Michael Denner and King Diamond, but it was of a piece with the blockier and shreddier sound the group was fully harnessing on Abigail.  At their best the group was both an irresistible force and immovable object, with the musicians charging with a certain inevitability while King’s singular vocals were a special effect but also its own instrument that kept the music and concepts moving. 

It felt like Skyharbor had a real shot at something for a minute, as Sunshine Dust came out with proper international distribution and built on years of goodwill coming in with the cresting of the djent scene.  And with the band solidifying a proper lineup for recording and touring after mostly existing on the internet, the guys seemed to poised to properly coexist alongside Tesseract and Periphery.  To that end, “Menace” may have been a bit more direct and metallic, with Eric Emery’s vocals a bit more emo, but the band’s chops were as tight as ever and the dynamics inside the tune were strong as was the writing in general.  It wasn’t fair to compare Emery to Dan Tompkins, and the American singer left his own on mark on the music.  Forrester Savell’s production was perhaps a bit too clever (which was surprising given his wealth of experience working with bands in this space), but Skyharbor was one of the more underrated bands of their moment and “Menace” was a tight and purposefully heavy number.

Fairyland delivered exactly the kind of froofy and dramatic symphonic power metal their name suggested, so give them credit for truth in advertising.  “Ride with the Sun” was full of dramatic keyboards and even more dramatic vocals over hyperactive double kicks, and to the extent that symphonic power metal was still gaining traction in 2003 the French band were not too far removed from the likes of Rhapsody and Nightwish.

Heavy Metal Records was easily the most generically named record label of all time, but the company played a significant role in capturing the New Wave of British Heavy Metal at its peak by releasing a wealth of great singles by bands that weren’t capable of much more.  In so doing, the label made the case that while the scene ultimately only added a small handful of bands and albums to the pantheon there were a shit-ton of great songs amongst all the strivers and dreamers.  And while Buffalo’s “Mean Machine” didn’t do anything unique it crackled with the energy and enthusiasm that made the NWOBHM a refreshing antidote to the bloat of exhausted legends: the track had momentum, hooks and verve to spare, making the nondescriptly named band another worthwhile contributor to the movement.

Jonny Santos wasn’t doing anything groundbreaking with Silent Civilian, but the group’s two albums were still underrated and didn’t get enough credit for their sturdy songwriting and extremely catchy headbanging riffs and choruses.  “Murder One” fit properly in the back half of Ghost Stories and on its own was a really good banger aided by a perfect Matt Hyde mix: the vocals, riffs and surging drums were all well in place, and that chug in the middle was primordially effective.  There wasn’t a ton of sophistication in tracks like this, but Santos took the lessons he learned about craft while in Spineshank and brought them to bear in a slightly different context with Silent Civilian- and ironically enough even though he was accused of trendhopping in the moment this sound was actually far more durable in the long run.

Tales from the Twilight World was the last time Blind Guardian prioritized thrashing over grandeur and bombast, with “Altair 4” being short, fast and right to the point in a way that would prove exceedingly rare over the next 35 years.  Indeed the band would never sound this lean again even if the track didn’t deviate from their approach and aesthetic: Thomas Stauch was steady and powerful on the drums and Hansi Kürsch’s bellow was inherently dramatic.  What “Altair 4” ultimately documented was Blind Guardian’s increasing maturity as writers and players each record was a steady progression and incremental expansion of their sound, so even if the tune itself was a brisk banger it revealed the breadth and scope simmering right below the surface.

Bitches Sin previewed “Strangers on the Shore” on the first Heavy Metal Heroes compilation and brought it back for their proper debut even as the band’s lineup had already shifted.  Nonetheless the track had an awesome frantic charge to it along with classic NWOBHM attitude, energy and swagger- the vocals were charmingly amateurish and matched the vigor of the music.  The New Wave of British Heavy Metal produced such a staggering run of great songs and singles that it made some sense that most of the bands associated with the movement couldn’t sustain themselves at the album level: Bitches Sin was one of the many that figured that sound and propulsion alone would keep them going, and it worked great on “Strangers on the Shore”, but one song along wasn’t going to give them a career.

“Into the War” was the sort of fast and frantic banger Grave Digger made sure to include on every record, in this case Ballads of a Hangman: Chris Boltendahl gargled about fighting and killing over riffing from Manni Schmidt and Thilo Hermann that belied their respective roots in Rage and Running Wild as Stefan Arnold went pedal to the metal on drums.  The track was pure lizard brain mayhem and exactly what one would expect from Grave Digger, which counted as high praise since we could always count of them for this sort of thing.

Rage’s late ‘80s/early ‘90s incarnation put out a handful of good records, but when the Wagner/Schmidt/Efthimiadis lineup got together again over 20 years later the results were far less than inspiring.  To be sure, Rage in all its guises hadn’t exactly offered a wealth of great material in the intervening years either, but that made the lameness of Solitary Men that much more depressing.  “Summer’s Winter” was a fine enough start to the record in that it immediately circled back to Trapped! and The Missing Link, but it was still a long way from Perfect Man or Secrets in a Weird World- yes, that was all a long time ago, but this was far more formulaic than one would expect and hope for from three guys presumably getting together for the fun of it.

Suspended Sentence is understandably the mostly forgotten outlier in Satan’s discography, but the combination of musicianship and intensity that powered Court in the Act remained firmly in place and Michael Jackson’s snarly vocals held their own even if they were completely different from Brian Ross’ idiosyncratic drone/falsetto.  “Suicidal Justice” was more straightforwardly metallic in a way that epitomized heavy music in the UK in the back half of the ‘80s, but Russ Tippins and Steve Ramsey were never less than a formidable tag team on guitar and likewise Sean Taylor was a beast on the drums.  The NWOBHM magic of Court in the Act was missing, but these guys were great players and even with a different frontman were among the best that British metal had to offer at the time.

Much was made of Billy Corgan’s guest vocal on “The Cross”, but the real story about Humanity: Hour 1 was the Scorpions essentially handing the reins to outside writers and producers in search of finally making a record that at least wasn’t terrible after nearly 20 years of nonsense.  And it actually worked: while the record was nobody’s idea of a masterpiece and there was no point bothering with the “concept” (which wasn’t even authored by Klaus or Rudy to begin with), James Michael and Desmond Child were able to present the Scorps in a good light and delivered a good balance of hooks and heft.  “The Cross” was largely written by hired hands like every other track on Humanity (in this case it was James Michael, Desmond Child and Marti Fredericksen alongside Matthias Jabs) and Corgan’s aforementioned feature was a bit distracting and didn’t really sound much like typical Scorpions, but Klaus Meine sounded more engaged and for the first time in a long time it sounded like the guys were going for it.  The production was more modern than necessary but not oppressively so, making “The Cross” and the rest of Humanity: Hour 1 one of the better latter-day Scorpions albums.

Power metal experienced peaks and valleys, but mainland Europe never gave up and always kept space for the subgenre.  So it wasn’t all surprising that Gomorra emerged out of Switzerland in 2020 with a barnburning gallop that offered the next link in the chain following HammerFall: Divine Judgement and “Flames of Death” didn’t so much nod to its predecessors as point directly at all of them.  Originality was never the point- tunes like this were meant to get over on energy and enthusiasm, and the track had plenty of both.

Next lived up to its title and stayed the course for Sevendust even after leaving their longtime label and losing a key member: “Silence” carried on as usual and was a logic follow-up to Animosity and Seasons with Lajon Witherspoon’s vocals doing the melodic lifting.  Clint Lowery’s songwriting acumen was missed, but only slightly: Sonny Mayo was perfectly capable of playing this style of downtuned hard rock and Morgan Rose had plenty of his own chops as a composer.  The track was heavy in its construction and perhaps closer to the core Sevendust sound than the sometimes too bright Seasons, with just enough hooks come chorus time to reiterate the band’s potential as a radio act.