#thilo herrmann

The Rivalry was the last time Running Wild seemed to operate like an actual band, largely because it was the last time the group used a human drummer in the studio (the very well-traveled Jörg Michael), and not coincidentally, the record was their last truly great album.  From front to back, the record smoked, with even deep cuts like “Agents of Black” ripping and roaring with manic energy and unstoppable hooks, especially during the shout-along chorus.  Rock n’ Rolf Kasparek was seemingly writing indefatigable riffs and catchy melodies in his sleep by this point, since there was no such thing as a bad Running Wild album in the 90s, there were only varying degrees of awesome (Black Hand Inn and Masquerade might’ve been on the lower end, but each had their share of undeniable bangers), and this song and album were the culmination of his hot streak.  “Agents of Black” may or may not have fit into Kasparek’s “good vs. evil trilogy” concept for The Rivalry, but it didn’t really matter.  The song was prime Running Wild, and it ran wild, and that was all that mattered.

Were Jörg Michael not on board, one would’ve easily assumed that the precisely charging drums on “Black Soul” came from a drum machine (or “Angelo Sasso”, as Rolf Kasparek would’ve called it).  But Michael had long since burnished his reputation as a top-flight percussionist by the time he joined Running Wild, and this highlight from Masquerade benefited from the man’s expertise.  Of course, Rock n’ Rolf was the true driving force as usual, and “Black Soul” found the guitarist and frontman confident as ever, and perhaps feeling a bit more secure after having finally secured a stable lineup with Michael, Thilo Herrmann and Thomas Smuszynski.  But most of all, the song was a classic Running Wild barnburner with rampaging double-kick drumming, frenetic riffing, and Kasparek’s snarling and howling.  “Black Soul” was a centerpiece of Masquerade, focusing on a conspiracy of evil as opposed to the joys of piracy on the high seas, but its attack was more than worthy of the Running Wild name, and continued Rock n’ Rolf’s streak of delivering consistently kick-ass ragers well into the ‘90s.

Victory signaled the beginning of the end for Running Wild, as longtime drummer Jӧrg Michael had been replaced by a drum machine dubbed “Angelo Sasso”.  But despite that sad turn of events, the album found what was left of the band in fighting form: Rock ‘n’ Rolf riffed and snarled in classically frantic fashion, and although the songs were not as consistent as those on The Rivalry, they were energetic, catchy and full of killer shout-along choruses.  All of this was in abundance on Victory’s opening track: “Fall of Dorkas” was built on a furious primary riff and supra-metallic drum pattern, and kicked the album off on a relentless note.  It didn’t let up for a single moment, so all anyone could do was bang their head and shout along to its awesomely ludicrous chorus (“Dorkas” was Rock ‘n’ Rolf’s name for Satan, and the verses described his defeat after “Walloron kicked his ass”).  It was easy to make fun of Running Wild for writing Victory as the end of a trilogy of albums depicting the battle between Good and Evil, but “Fall of Dorkas” was a supreme power metal anthem both in spite of and because of its underlying silliness.

Long before the likes of Angela Gossow and Otep Shamaya shattered conventions about how vocals in “female-fronted metal” bands should sound, Sabina Classen terrified audiences with a guttural roar that felt much more brutal than anything Chuck Billy or Tom Araya could attempt.  Indeed, her work with Holy Moses cleared the way for gender equality in metal, and Classen was (and remains) a true pioneer.  But the rest of the band were no slouches: they were one of the first German bands to absorb the first strains of thrash and step it up by adding a distinctly European sense of precision.  “Near Dark” opened The New Machine of Lichtenstein, the band’s third album, with aggression and technicality, highlighting the considerable chops of future Helloween drummer Uli Kusch and guitar interplay of Andy Classen and future Running Wild axeman Thilo Herrmann.  But it was Sabina Classen’s agitated screeching that set the song apart, sounding every bit as extreme as any death metal frontman.  But what might’ve originally come off as novelty turned out to be a vital signal of where metal would eventually venture.