Finding a band named after an extremely boring stoner band (yeah, get at me) and discovering it wasn’t mimicking that style was a welcome surprise, especially after seeing the album art. Five years ago, the Swiss doom/death outfit Funeralopolis dropped one of the thickest and most monstrous records in that style. Titled, …Of Deceit And Utter Madness, it works as a perfect balance between that cavernous muck feeling and straightforward explosions, with an obvious hint of stonerism. To say the least, I find that to be a unique trait within this subgenre.
Giving credit where it’s due, the guitar tones and the droney tint that often comes with stoner/doom is what helps this stand out. The echo-like production allowing the powerful snares to also pop through as a compliment to the extremely dense riffing was also a fantastic touch. These tactics tend to make their presence in the slower, drawn-out parts that squeeze out more focus on rhythm, often preceding faster and chaotic outbursts that revert back to the horrific element that surrounds everything. Most importantly, it’s all pulled off in under forty minutes, hitting the sweet spot without needing to lay on fifty-five minutes of unwanted meandering.
Perhaps some of my favorite moments in …Of Deceit And Utter Madness are the buzzsaw riffs that take the forefront with a repetitive arc (in a good way), as they never overstay their welcome. “House Of West” even pulls off a droning cool-off before letting in a bass lick paired with doomy leads, before breaking into another pummeling wall of death metal battery. Grating tones that up the ante add weight to the already established buzz, unfolding beautifully on the following “Witchcraft Horror,” especially when the drums just reign relentlessly on the latter part of the song. Things reach a boiling point in the burning pit of “The Envenomed King,” reaching critical mass in an avalanche of riffs and shrieking vocals, collapsing into relentless death metal fervor.
Funeralopolis doesn’t do anything that hasn’t been done before, but I don’t think I’ve ever found a band that knows how to balance these specific ingredients so well. They let on a touch of the stoner influence without allowing proverbial smoke to overwhelm and consume the vibe. The pacing feels natural at every moment, the changes in delivery swing in at just the right times, and an overall horrifying vibe is achieved through otherwise basic playing. Not a technical record, but one that rivals many of that type.
To many, the debut King Diamond record acts as the bridge connecting a gap between early Mercyful Fate and the iconic concept-oriented trajectory. To me, Fatal Portrait is not only more than just that, but solid proof that half a concept with some standalones can flow just as nicely. Bringing axeman Michael Denner and introducing Andy, Timi and Mikkey would certainly show some new colors, despite following the tighter approach evident on Don’t Break The Oath. However, I’d go as far as saying this is a step up on the songwriting front.
The “Molly” short story that the first four tracks (and closer) revolve around paint an extremely chilling picture with a glimpse at what would soon become staple; combining furious riff progressions with atmospheric effect, and a healthy serving of melody. Chants, deep synth notes, and a droning buzz contrast the heavy delivery perfectly, which already does a fantastic job of swinging in with accessible melodies on its own. On the back side, single-serving doses that raise the same hairs on one’s skin work so nicely that an untrained ear couldn’t even tell the whole record isn’t one full narrative. Moreover, despite the cleaner production, there still remains a dingy tint adding extra flavor to the darker passages, rounding things off beautifully.
Where King Diamond’s magic lies is right in the sweet spot found between all of this. Opener “The Candle” might be one of the spookiest openings to a record I’ve ever heard, being the perfect kickoff to a spooky-season staple. Its descent into pummeling drum kicks and faster rhythms let on lots of adrenaline right away, melting nicely into the more accessible “The Jonah.” “The Portrait” then feels more vocal centric as it jumps between falsetto melodies and shrieking outbursts, topped off with some of the strongest solos in the cracks. “Dressed In White” then wraps this segment up with arguably some of the most accessible rhythms, particularly in the opening licks and iconic singalong chorus. We’d return to this at the end with “Haunted,” which admittedly would have fit better here, but I can’t act like it doesn’t feel like a solid bookend.
Looking at the individual numbers, the same tactics are used piece by piece save for connecting the songs with one narrative. If there’s a single “scary rotten fun” tune to be had, it would be “Halloween” thanks to the maniacal laughs and catchy verses, though even here the stomping, deep rhythms are a sharp force meant to remind us of the dark situation we’re trapped in. On a similar note, “Charon” utilizes explosive riffs for that effect, sharing the forefront with King’s outbursts. It bridges nicely with “Lurking In The Dark,” putting more emphasis on the soloing right out of the gates. All that leaves is the instrumental “Voices From The Past,” invoking a hallway chase that never truly ends, perhaps to quickly achieve the feeling that all of Fatal Portrait aims for in one swift swoop. It’s like your horror anthology series put into an engaging trailer.
For some reason, this record seems to have mixed reviews amongst fans, and I can’t help but think some of that is chalked up to it not being the typical concept record King would become known for. More iconic and in-depth records would certainly follow, but the first run around truly has some of the greatest songwriting in both bands’ discography. On an individual track level, its chilling vibes are unmatched. As a bigger picture, it flows like the smoothest horror themed roller coaster you’ve ever been on.
In a series of three albums that came together in a relatively short amount of time, I find it interesting how drastically different they are from one another, despite barely tampering with the general formula. Of course, I am talking about the first three Rainbow albums, showcasing the results of what I'd call my favorite vocalist and favorite guitarist coming together for a brief point in history. It's gotten no easier over the years to decide which record holds the most heat, before arriving at the conclusion that the answer is all of them. With just a small look beneath the surface, it becomes easier to understand that the debut, simply titled Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, was a rather elementary idea that just happened to work perfectly, and is easily the most removed from the other two. This is nothing short of the next evolution of the American hard rockers Elf, with the now massive Ritchie Blackmore of the U.K.'s Deep Purple handling the the leads, before all of Elf short of Dio would get the shaft.
By now, most are familiar with the story of Blackmore wanting to cover "Black Sheep Of The Family" and turning to Ronnie James Dio and co. to make it a reality. However, I think that's a crucial part of the whole puzzle that's often overlooked as just a fun fact, considering that the nature of both covers here paved the path for how the song structures would go. Chris Farlowe's 1970 hit would all but kickstart the general aesthetic of mythology, history, and general struggle that this entire record represents. With just a dash of heavy metal added to the equation, it's easy to see how it would birth the likes of "Self Portrait," "Sixteenth Century Greensleeves," and the likes. Both tunes follow a narrative of hardship and uncertainty, with one simply told in the first person, and the other in the third. Musically, they carry a mellow and somber tone that still utilizes Dio's range to the fullest, and implement's Blackmore's heavy desires in "Black Sheep" for some solos coated in emotion.
Continuing in with the calmer sections, that emotion sneaking its way into the music as wonderfully as it does with the vocals is one of Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow's strongest feats. The licks that make up the foundation of "Catch The Rainbow," coated with majestic keys create a sad atmosphere that fits the vibe even before vocals are introduced; we love when the guitar can sound as sad as an actual human. The way they all come together in such a harmonious chorus is immaculate, especially when the drum kicks pick up the pace to see us out. This is pulled-off in a less dramatic way in "Temple Of The King," another favorite that still follows the medieval themes and a somber attitude (I have to assume a Chinese tale, in the use of referencing a year named after an animal).
But these medieval kicks around the struggles of a being work wonders in what we'll call the heavier tunes too. Though I struggle to call much of this album heavy metal, there's no denying the early parallels with Judas Priest or Scorpions. "Man On The Silver Mountain" is a mean opener for its time, setting the stage for powerful vocals and masterful melodies that sport the right amount of muscle. Further, "Snake Charmer" works in the band's ability to add speed to the formula, being another mythical laced number that still retains the general feel. To close things off, an instrumentalized cover of The Yardbirds' "Still I'm Sad" almost acts as a closing act meant to bring everything into a heavier outburst of man's struggles still following him, after all this expression around sadness, emptiness, and labor. If nothing else, we're meant to relate to the material in all of these songs.
The sole reason why I genuinely think this was all an accident is because of the inclusion of "If You Don't Like Rock 'N Roll." When two covers fit the general sphere of melancholy, strife, and the rough go in medieval chronicles better than one of your original tunes, then you know it was simply thrown in with the rest; the other six originals just happened to flow wonderfully out of the vibes of said cover. Don't read me wrong, I still love this tune. It's a fun, upbeat ditty with a great piano lead and more strength in the realm of faster tempos, but comparing it to the rest of Rainbow's debut feels very out of place, if that description alone doesn't make it stand out. This is an album of somber ballads and rock 'n roll grit, all of which formed by chance from different acquisitions of talent.
Thus, I seriously don't think there was a lot of effort put into making everything work together so wonderfully, it just did (except with one song), and I'm completely here for it. Moving forward, two more records would evolve this effort into streamlined identities, as Blackmore would bring in his own hired guns, and they would cement something more aligned with what we call heavy metal. Regardless, Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow holds just as much merit, and mood depending, it can be the preferred album. Ignoring some of these weird nuances that give it a less locked-in feel, there's not a single track that leaves me hanging. It just boils down to whether or not you want a compilation of short stories, or a full-on novel.
The California based band Fortress are one that somehow completely missed my radar a couple of years ago, but as they say, better late than pregnant. Having gained some mild traction with an EP leading up to that, it was 2021's debut full-length that really made an impact on me. Titled Don't Spare The Wicked, this is a solid slab of heavy metal that's here and gone before even touching the thirty minute mark. We love a band that can make an impact in such a small frame of time.
And that's precisely what Fortress does. They may stick to the traditional metal backbone for the majority of this run, however I'd be lying if I said power metal influences of the European flavor didn't make their way in. Paired with rhythms ranging from steady to bordering speed metal are an overload of falsetto vocals, as well as the occasional synth-coat for a sweeter layer. For an album of such a short runtime, they also really enjoy baking soft centers into the heavier tracks to contrast the heavier chugs. All of this comes together to work as what feels like one strong narrative under a mythological and historic scope.
I'll admit, some of the shifts in tone can be a bit shaky, and that might have something to do with how much is crammed into the short runtime. The vocals also dominate a lot of this, and while they're extremely competent and sharp, it can feel overwhelming. However, the general idea hits, and it hits hard. "Anguish" is a fine example of jumping all over the power metal sphere in tempo and delivery alike, while opener "Lost Forever" is a more streamlined attack with the leads and synths remaining consistent. To the opposite end, "Red Light Runner" stays in the fast lane (pun intended), emphasizing the ability to crank out speed metal chops without letting up, topped off with several wavy solos. My favorite might be the title track, closing things out on a note that teeters epic territory; I just wish "The Passage" interlude felt a little more connected to it.
It's early in the band's career, but Don't Spare The Wicked is a strong debut that boasts some of the greatest foundations for what could be an incredible record. It's rare that I say an album needs a little more fluff rather than less, but I only mean this in a way that molds things together ever so slightly; what we have is a lot of great ideas that just need to stick together a little better with some fine-tuning. Anybody who digs the channels of early Helloween or the newer acts in line with Starlight Ritual should find something to gain here. If not, at least you didn't spend much time on it.
The debut Anthrax record is one of the finest examples of something I have a love/hate relationship with. It's a mere skeleton of the masterful work the band would become known for, and an essential part of my favorite thrash metal band topped only by Overkill. Fistful Of Metal hit the scenes a year after Slayer and Metallica all but defined the genre, and it's equally as charming as it is rough. What it really boils down to is how much chaos you're in the mood for.
Across the board, this works as the final bridge that covers the vague gap seen between speed metal and thrash metal. Within the cracks, I find that everything I like about Fistful Of Metal is also everything I dislike about it. Neil Turbin's unconventional shrieks fuel an aggressive edge that channels so much adrenaline, yet these same shrieks often sound misplaced, needing some fine tuning. The Eric Adams-meets-Paul Stanley approach thrown into overdrive is a nice tactic, but the delivery really could have been better quite often. The stripped down production is a feature I can always get behind, adding extra grit to the stronger numbers while also holding back areas that may have flourished better. The explosive energy of this boosts some songs to nasty proportions, while feeling awkward in others.
Now apply this same formula to the songwriting itself. It's so minimalist compared to what the band would soon use to define themselves, making it lack the hooks that I look for in their albums, yet when they're present, they snatch me every time. Thus, the entire album is a game of picking out what really sticks. "Metal Thrashing Mad" is somewhat the defining tune on the record, being one that Joey would continue using in live shows, and for good reason. The unraveling of the simple riff matches Turbin's outbursts wonderfully, and the rhythmic chops are timed beautifully with the chorus. Further, "Panic" is an explosive ditty with pummeling drums and ferocious solos while boasting some of the most competent vocal work. I'll even throw some praise to "Death From Above" because of its marching leads, elaborate chorus, and progressions along the lines of "Love Gun" by Kiss amplified tenfold.
Yet, for each banger, there's a stinker. I've always found "Soldiers Of Metal" to be an overrated tune for its status, containing the right energy but channeling it nowhere, complete with unnecessary wails. "Subjugator" also had potential but falls short in its awkward delivery, and don't even get me started on the mistake that was including an Alice Cooper cover in "I'm Eighteen." Everything else ranges from serviceable to underwhelming; I find it interesting that the band's title track "Anthrax" basically became a forgotten tune within a year or so thanks to its lack of memorability. Again, not a bad tune, but I'd be lying if I said it had lots of replay value. I'd almost go as far as saying Anthrax had a first-record identity crisis, unsure if it wanted to be the debut Def Leppard and Iron Maiden type, or the Metallica and Slayer type.
I digress, I really have to appreciate Fistful Of Metal for laying out the basis of what would become some of the greatest heavy metal of all time. I'm openly aware of my bias, and maybe if I heard this in 1984 without the context of what they'd become, I'd like it a little better. But revisiting it time and time again as someone who's parents did the deed a decade later than Anthrax's debut, it's missing a lot of what I'm after. The strong points are very strong, but the weak points hold the rest back.
In the last decade of the 20th Century, Czechoslovakia would produce what I call a Sepultura clone to a tee. When I say Gladiator's debut Designation sounds like a replica, I mean I'm unsure I'd be able to tell them apart had I not known the Brazilian mold as well as I do. A year later, one country became two, and the now Slovak outfit would cough up record number two, containing the littlest bit of identity evolution. Don't misread me, as the debut was competent and strong, but it was tough to find anything worth distinguishing. That is not the case with Made Of Pain, the record I truly care about.
Retention of the death/thrash attitude under the slightest tweaking of atmosphere would make for a less noisy gradient in exchange for a mildly flatter delivery. Moreover, stepping only a year deeper into the '90s would reveal an ear for the so-called "groove metal" sound that was taking shape, also only to a tiny degree. Often times this may be a turnoff, but I saw this as giving Gladiator something that felt like a personality, as these tiny tweaks can produce a myriad of blends. With that, the more gruff attitude in vocals and tones shaped the muscular skeleton of the debut without feeling like tough-guy-core.
With this also came a tighter songwriting, which I noticed right away. "Sound Of Deep Silence" comes to mind, using a calmer pace to its advantage, working in groovy but advanced hooks with intricate drum kicks. Meanwhile "Warsouls" jumps all over the place, inserting softer licks and random melodies into a tune otherwise comprised of breakneck speed metal riffs and shifts in tempo. It could have come off very awkward, but it didn't. Hell, even the inclusion of a piano and string section in the beginning of "My World" flowed with this wonderfully, before it broke-down into a bass-heavy stomper; I swear these slower songs are the more interesting ones.
Perhaps it's nothing groundbreaking, but Made Of Pain is truly a well-written, well-crafted, and well-delivered slab of east European fury under a focused scope. They really capture the energy of war and misery that many of their death/thrash counterparts mastered while finding an identity on the second record. I'm truly thankful for having come across this outfit.
If you know me by now, you know that Greek black metal is what I owe my final descent into the endless chasm that is the appreciation of the genre as a whole. Alongside their counterparts Rotting Christ, the equally evil and diabolical Necromantia was a proponent of pushing this forward. The Balkan peninsula had several responses to the freezing evolution that its Norwegian counterparts in the north had been popularizing, with equal emphasis on the dark atmosphere, but more on the rhythms. This clearer projection passed through the vampiric imagery of Crossing The Fiery Path seemed to scratch the itch perfectly.
However, I would take this a step further and say that Necromantia's debut album sidestepped the new norm in other ways. If early Nile albums hold allure just from the sheer amount of pharaonic influences making their way into the death metal formula, then some of the allure here is in its darker, more sinister, demonic, and vampiric ingredients. You'll find no shortage of chants, howls, and synthesizer-laced bells and whistles meant to invoke a sense of standing naked in a forest surrounded by entities ready to summon the devil with your blood; except it's a warm summer night, so you won't freeze your ass off. The rough production and borderline hissing vocals pair wonderfully with this, and what's nice is that things always feel natural. Competent leads tend to poke their ugly heads when you least expect them, and often the more gimmicky sections either bridge two tracks, or they act as an intermission inside of a longer track, creating a record working as if it were one massive song.
What isn't nice about this is that I need to set aside this allure and acknowledge the fact that the gimmick is overdone just a little bit at times. When a record clocking in at over forty-five minutes spends nearly twenty of them on these tangents, it feels somewhat unfinished in the editing department, and the unrefined element may be its only weakness. But overlooking this slight complaint, when the music hits, it hits hard. "Unchaining The Wolf (At War)" might be the most in-your-face approach with its rumbling speeds that break the uneven surface with sudden stomps backed by a tympany. However, the monstrous epic "The Warlock" captures everything wonderful about this entire record, shattering any sense of safety with choppy rhythms that carry a horrid tone as if the life (blood?) was sucked out of them and reborn in an undead, demented zombie form. Its coarse and ugly vocals match the energy, somehow feeling comprehensible in their poetic delivery of evil sorcery, and this will always be my favorite part of the record.
From there, Crossing The Fiery Path becomes a game of letting its nuances consume you. Again, I often find myself wishing they had let up on the chants and effects just a little bit, however I'd never deny their charm. "Les Litanies De Satan" is an entire blackened/doom trudge that would have sounded so much meaner with more hideous hissing vocals, and to their credit, we do get that in the end to lead us to a fuming solo. However the bulk of it opts for chanted vocals that can feel unnerving but are equally corny. On the other hand, the bold move of an entire bass-lead track in "The Last Song For Valdezie" was placed wonderfully, furthering a feeling of isolation in the presence of something vile.
It may sound like a did a bit of complaining, but I truly love this record. Its flaws give it charm, and its strengths are extra strong, much like Black Sabbath's Born Again. Maybe it wouldn't be the best pick to start one's journey into the hot and sweaty camp that is Hellenic black metal, but after acquainting oneself to its nuances and seemingly sporadic nature, it becomes very easy to appreciate. If nothing else, it might be one of the most evil sounding efforts in my entire library of music, a sheer upheaval of anything holy or pure.
