Album Review: Judas Priest - Invincible Shield

Judas Priest - Invincible Shield
Sony Records - 2024
7/10

For those that don't know, 2018's Firepower took yours truly by absolute storm, working past forty years of releasing full-lengths, and it would have been the perfect send-off for Judas Priest's career. There's a key part of that statement, though; would have been. Six years later, the British heavy metal titans dropped another full-length, making little impact on me at the time. After some time to properly take it in, I felt there's no better time than the present to check out Invincible Shield again. They've created a hard act for themselves to follow, but time sometimes rids me of that expectation.

Similar to the path they've been on, the latest effort from Rob and co. displays the same base with mild alterations on the surface. Power metal-induced traditional metal under a modern banner with that post-Painkiller flair still reigns, going with the cleaner production that proved to work well last time. Similarly, there's a slight attempt at keeping things varied, even opening on chorus-earworm heavy hitters upfront with "Panic Attack" taking the more sing-along route while "The Serpent And The King" amps up the intensity. Hell, perhaps one lesson the band learned was not overdoing the length, clocking in near the fifty minute mark rather than the hour (or more) mark, giving us sturdy footing.

Alas, I can't pretend that I still don't feel underwhelmed. Only part of it is the fact that this was already perfected the last time, with Invincible Shield bringing absolutely nothing new to the table. After all, no band can reinvent the wheel over and over again, especially a band that played a large role in inventing said proverbial wheel in the first place. However, there's a very obvious step-back in songwriting exchanged for what's arguably heavier chops. I won't pretend that much of this isn't more aggressive, showing blatantly in the likes of "With God As My Witness," but it's lacking where it matters. Most of these songs don't have the emotional charge in delivery that I came to love; the opening numbers I mentioned that clearly rely on catchy elements fall short in repetitive and lackluster choruses; "Devil In Disguise" and "Escape From Reality" attempting that slower-crawl is missing the doomy grit; even the epic buildups attempted in several spots really don't sell me, and closer "Giants In The Sky" misses the attempted emotional charge. If there's any actual standout that comes close to deserving praise, it's "Crown Of Horns" and its anthemic vibes actually feeling focused.

Some will say I'm being rather harsh, and to their credit, this isn't a bad record. Maybe I dislike it more on principle than in execution, but the execution lets me down nonetheless, and in a vacuum I don't think I'd like it much better. Things are competent, the formula works, and everyone is good at what they're doing; but almost nothing sticks. Objectively, it's better than the rightfully critiqued Redeemer Of Souls, but I'll once again say that I'll take a rough-around-the-edges outing that still has a distinct identity over a safe, formulaic one that checks all the boxes. Judas Priest has done more for heavy metal than likely any band outside of Black Sabbath, and for that, they can go out with eternal respect and not lift another finger. This album is a sign that perhaps that's the move.

Album Review: Judas Priest - Nostradamus

Judas Priest - Nostradamus

Columbia Records - 2008

6/10

Following what we may consider Judas Priest's return to form in 2005's Angel Of Retribution, they would continue on that road of reinvigorated energy meeting nostalgia three years later. But unlike the other records that followed that template, they would step into arguably their most experimental effort in this era, maybe ever. Nostradamus saw the band not only tamper with a concept album, but inject musical elaborations that teeter on epic and opera. If that isn't a lot to take in, then perhaps its nearly two-hour runtime will be.

That very fact would prove to be the experiment's biggest retractor. On paper, their second record seeing Halford returning is presented pretty wonderfully. Powerful vocals meet boisterous and thick leads that utilize the bass to amp its presence even higher. Tight and clean production make it so nothing goes missed, with a healthy dose of theatrics and synthesized guitar attacks to add the littlest touch of flair. Throw in a decent ear for impactful hooks, and you've got about as great a template one can use for a strong epic journey.

Moreover, Nostradamus knows exactly when to employ meaner grit for a firmer impact as much as it does the same with softer veneers and emotion. Frankly, the first track (ignoring its intro) "Prophecy" is one of my favorite numbers of the post-2000s era; its opening riff, unrelenting drum blasts, and threatening pre-chorus break into a chanted release that all but brings me goosebumps. "Persecution" feels like a response to that one, morphing matched furious drive into speed, topped with what feels like a classic horror chase bit. "Pestilence And Plague" has some power metal tropes that breath hope beside upbeat chops meeting haunting synth, and "Lost Love" uses emotion and soft guitars to aid a sadness felt miles away. "Alone" coats a similar feeling, but definitely didn't need to be that long. Hell, even "Death" is loaded with obvious doom thrusts, maybe the only long track that holds momentum until its end.

Sadly, there's a tragic other side to all this; after about one third of the record, its thunderous embrace wares off. Normally, saying "this is simply too long" is not enough to tank an album too hard, but it will if that error seeps into many of the individual tracks. "Revelations" is seemingly a stronger number with its symphonic elements and galloping drive, but it meanders far too much for its own good. Both closers "Future Of Mankind" and the title track display this even worse, as by this point of the album it's even harder to forgive that. Make no mistake though, they're guilty of this in a vacuum too, and "Exiled" is a great example of why long repetition borders on corny. "Alone" is a fine example of what could have been a soothing acoustic bit turning into a repetitive mental drain. Even "War," as fun as its marching vigor comes off, is dampened by over five minutes of something that can barely repeat for three before it's overdone, and that's if you ignore its surrounding interludes. As a matter of fact, insult is added to injury with there being too damn many interludes. If you simply tacked those onto every track they precede (or follow?), it adds extra unneeded fluff to even the strong tracks, making any chance of overlooking all of this virtually impossible.

Judas Priest's experimental effort is not awkward nor poorly executed. It's competent, written with a formula that all but promises exceptionality, but falls into a tragic fate of doing entirely too much of a good thing. This is a pattern that would appear on every other post-Painkiller record albeit to a far more manageable degree, even hurting the better records just a notch. Had this been one-third its actual length, and baked the decent interludes into less repetitive main songs, this probably could have been one of the best albums of its time. Instead, we're left with something that's likely no coincidence that most of my favorite moments are on the first disc. Alas, while I may suggest hearing this at least once for all the completists and those who love context, the rest of you are better off using such an allotment of time to watch two Twin Peaks episodes, or four to five Seinfeld episodes.

Album Review: Judas Priest - Redeemer Of Souls

Judas Priest - Redeemer Of Souls

Sony Music - 2014

7/10

It can be a difficult task to assess something without allowing nostalgia to paint an unfair picture of how great something is, but equally often retrospect and surrounding releases make that veneer easier to break. Marking exactly forty years of Judas Priest releasing full-length records, Redeemer Of Souls dropped in 2014, being the first "new" album by the British masterminds for yours truly since discovering them. Place it after an overblown and often considered faulty experiment in Nostradamus, marked by the fact that its release followed my high school graduation, and you've got the greatest vacuum for fond memories to my eighteen year-old self. Unfortunately, hindsight is 20/20, and while it may still be a bit fuzzy, it can be less forgiving.

Let us not get ahead of ourselves too early, though. Redeemer Of Souls rightfully gets lots of criticism, however I'd love first to highlight its strengths, as there are more than most will lend credit to. For one, "Halls Of Valhalla" is one of the heaviest tunes in the band's career, with one of my favorite suspense builds in guitar riffing, utilizing tough stomps and vocal outbursts. Similarly, the title track before it represents this in a warmer tone, cranking out beefy chops with equally crushing drum-kicks, and I even like the catchy albeit corny opener "Dragonaught." Similarly, "Crossfire" in the second half almost predicts the doomier numbers Halford and co. would perfect on the following Firepower, and even the soft closer "Beginning Of The End" seemed a soothing way to go out.

All sounds well and good, until you realize that these highlights comprise less than half of the album, with my single issue on their 2018 effort being ever-more present four years prior. I would be hard pressed to call anything bad, but there's little clarity in many tracks that could reveal songwriting with actual personality. Even as catchy as licks in the likes of "March Of The Damned" may feel, there's a missing oomph that normally makes the band's formula work, and some of that is likely due to the other main issue, its production. Again, I'm a sucker for rough production, but when the drums borderline dominate, the bass is unfelt (save for "Hell & Back" another one with potential that feels flat), and the lead guitars feel compromised, it's tough to get with what they're doing. Actually, I'd say most of these songs show potential that simply isn't quite realized.

Regardless, I will fully admit to having a soft spot for Judas Priest's attempt at painting over their previous mistake. It's simultaneously too long but somehow also unfinished, resulting in a handful of worthwhile numbers to walk away with at the expense of having to look for them. Trimming a few tracks off and touching others up would have done wonders, and perhaps would have shot it up to the way I regard the classic records; but like I said, hindsight is 20/20. Redeemer Of Souls certainly isn't bad, but I wouldn't call it much more than decent either, especially when removing my nostalgia goggles.

Album Review: Judas Priest - Firepower

Judas Priest - Firepower

Sony Records International - 2018

9/10

When a heavy metal band of such magnitude and age as Judas Priest continues cranking out full-lengths past the 40-year (and now 50-year) mark, the criteria for relevancy gets less and less forgiving. Yet, I'm of the belief that the British heavy metallers have given us a mixed-bag of highs and lows in the past couple of decades. 2018's Firepower really didn't promise anything remarkable, given the campy album art and the lackluster response to the previous two full-lengths. But low and behold, not only was my twenty-two year old self absolutely blown away, my thirty year old self still feels the same way in retrospect.

What's even more interesting is the fact that Rob Halford and co. really didn't deviate much from the standard post-reunion sound that's been around since Angels Of Retribution in 2005. Many view the entire band's career from then on to be some variance of the Painkiller formula, but the true difference really does lie in production and songwriting. Despite my soft spot for a rougher sound, Firepower absolutely benefited from a crisp overlay that chops off any excess noise, allowing a thunderous kick that boosts the bass and twin-guitar blasts to pair nicely with Halford's still crystal clear vocals. At no point is the aggression lost, and when necessary, emotion shines even brighter; such a balance would prove imperative.

All of this also winds up being simple icing on the cake when you consider the compelling nature of the songs, and the fluid movement of the varying tactics working in unison so well. Our obvious "hit" numbers blend as well with the more monstrous stompers as they do with the calmer tracks. The opening title track and following "Lightning Strike" may start us off with obvious earworm hooks, but it doesn't take long for that to fold into something bigger than themselves. In fact, I don't really think we'd see this again until far later in the album with the swift banger "No Surrender," being the record's strongest choice for a tune carried by gang-chants. All three of those are fantastic on their own, and I think work as simplified tastes of the protein packed in between.

Everything else unleashes the full-weight of their abilities with the aforementioned varying moods. The fierce and pummeling "Evil Never Dies," the thick and beautifully layered "Necromancer," and the haunting aura erupting into one of the best solos in "Spectre" show that age isn't about to stand in the way of champions. Even the seemingly campy "Flame Thrower" proves more worthy with its aggressive rhythms, powerful chorus, and rising-tide energy, which is embellished on in "Traitor's Gate." Calmer approaches still behold an Earth-shattering presence, like the doom-inspired "Children Of The Sun" boasting clean licks that meet powerful bass/drum combos, or the power metal chocked "Never The Heroes" coating on pretty but heavy melodies. The twin-guitar leads may shine even brighter in those songs, allowing Halford's emotional arc to match swimmingly. The band's (sad) wings reach full fruition this time around in the borderline epic tinted "Rising From Ruins," preceded by an equally melancholic piano intro in "Guardians" to capture what feels like a part two to "A Touch Of Evil" nearly thirty years later. Eight years later I'm still in awe over that song.

I can't express enough how masterful it is when a band who has been around for over forty-five years crafts something as competent and substantial as Firepower. If there's a single complaint to be had, it's the nearly hour long run-time feeling overzealous; I could have done without the final two tracks, especially considering that "No Surrender" would have been a fantastic closer. Neither "Lone Wolf" nor "Sea Of Red" are bad songs, but both go on longer than either needed to as is, let alone following fifty minutes of this record. Otherwise, Judas Priest have crafted something that didn't deviate far from their standard post-classic formula, but managed to pack in not only memorable but consistent bangers one after another under their best production since Painkiller. I can understand the wariness to stay interested this deep into an old-guard's career, but if you only listen to one album after 1990, make it this one.

Album Review: Metal Church - The Dark

Metal Church - The Dark

Elektra Records - 1986

10/10

With their first record, the Bay Area outfit Metal Church established themselves as an act heavily rooted in speed metal that tampered both with the emerging power and thrash metal distinctions, which would come to define their career. In a time when the characteristics of what makes thrash metal different from speed metal were still being worked out, I would argue that the band's sophomore game-changer The Dark played a bigger role in this than they'd receive credit for. If Slayer was showing us just how fast this could be taken in 1986, Metallica were reminding us that strong thrash bangers didn't have to be fast. Metal Church would reaffirm the latter's role, as the meanest and grittiest thrash numbers came in the form of steady tracks on album number two.

As we had seen from the self-titled debut, David Wayne and co. clearly had an ear for sharp hooks and concise vocals under a more accessible veneer. Here they follow suit but evolve by simply adding a harsher, punk-like attitude and a refreshing production that boosts the extra energy to a new high. While there's certainly some charm in the raw nature of the first record, it was now time to showcase everyone's abilities. Wayne's voice now found a perfect balance between standout clarity and tough snarl, the Wells / Vanderhoof combo could now spit compelling riff and lead combos that don't just hook but also stick, and Arrington's drum kicks now felt explosive. Erickson's bass is admittedly felt more than heard, but is that a bad thing?

Again, I must stress that this album's songwriting is elevated by its balance in steadier rhythms in lieu of constant speed. This is realized wonderfully in the form of "Start The Fire," my favorite song the band has ever crafted. Simple power-stance riffs leading us into compelling percussion, topped with a combo of tough attitudes and sharp falsettos morph into a staple gang-chant chorus. More well known is the title track's invoking of fear with the same buildup, emphasizing tighter poetic drive and higher vocals, while "Burial At Sea" takes an approach bordering epic territory with its advanced layering. I almost wish the latter was the album's closer, as it's such a perfect send-off, but "Western Alliance" is still an absolutely swift and sharp banger.

Speaking of swift bangers, for every steady march full of angsty weight, The Dark gives us a song that emphasizes speed to maintain variety in the palette. Opener "Ton Of Bricks" is all anybody could ask for with a thrash opener, giving us some signature drum blasts over burning, simplistic rhythms paired with the meanest of vocals. "Line Of Death" channels this boiling energy towards the harsh reality that is war, showcasing the neatest bridge on the album with some intense picking, and "Over My Dead Body" sneaks in some of the tightest solos between verses (more cowbell!). Even "Psycho," while often overlooked, boasts some of the best start/stop drive on the whole disc.

Yet, the most interesting songs might be the two that break the norm for each set of rules. "Watch The Children Pray" falls into ballad territory with its soft acoustics and beautiful singing, yet it manages to fit in just fine with a slow ascent into the same energy that the calmer thrash tunes flex. Similarly, "Method To Your Madness" is a speed metal oriented one that somehow feels welcoming instead of threatening, perhaps due to its warmer tones and lack of grit. Regardless, both songs fit the general aesthetic of fear, war, and street-fight anthems in a way that's truly unmatched.

Metal Church would move on from here in various directions toeing that speed/power/thrash line to differing degrees depending on vocalist and inspiration, but The Dark easily kicks out the thrash attitude like no other. The faster songs dealt in their shtick with more punk attitude to elevate them, and the slower ones crafted a weighty force that I truly believe helped them in being genre defining. There's not a single moment of this that I'd call filler, and revisiting it is one of the best ways to amp up my energy. If you only ever listen to one Metal Church record, make it this one.

Album Review: Transilvania - Of Sleep And Death

Transilvania - Of Sleep And Death

Invictus Productions - 2021

9/10

Austria's Transilvania has made a bit of a career out of crafting a more unique form of blackened thrash metal, though I may argue that the reason why it's unique is that they deviate pretty far from that tag. While we can certainly discuss traces of it, the more straightforward formula in the outfit's earlier years came to transcend the norm in more ways than just dealing in medieval imagery in place of Satanic debauchery. No, I'm of the belief that Of Sleep And Death deals cards in the vein of its name, falling closer to the blackened death metal realm above all else. This is also probably what really helped sell me on them.

For starters, Transilvania have always somewhat shied away from melody save for a hint of it here and there, favoring rhythms rooted in explosive expression and a furious drive that matches the relentless, blackened vocals. Perhaps one could say the execution feels on the cleaner side, but a rough gradient still manages to dull the blade of our proverbial chops, allowing much of this to sink deeper into full-on black metal territory from time to time. What impresses me more than anything may be the band's ability to quickly shift from a slower, more intricate lick into blasting percussion and tremolos that crawl all over the fret-board. But remember kids, utilizing catchy playing tactics in extreme metal doesn't automatically make it feel thrashy.

What does make it feel thrashy is that punk-oriented attitude that catches the occasional speed metal riff, which you can find from time to time as well. The bridge and following solo on the title track is a fine example of this, though as clear as it is, things get equally muddy surrounding it, complimented by explosive drumming and breakneck tremolos. Bits like this also exist in some of the shorter numbers, namely the end of "Mortpetten," but even much of this resides closer to the impression landed on opener "Opus Morbi"; longer, elaborate numbers where crushing shrieks meet a tough black/death aesthetic. "Heart Harvest" may be my favorite example due to its early Bathory nods, and the cleaner sweeps in "Vault Of Evening" really scratch a nice itch. When a nearly fifty minute record of this type sports zero misses, you know you're in good hands.

Regardless of what you want to call it, what matters is that Of Sleep And Death is an extremely competent, compact slammer of a record that immerses you in a crushing medieval front. The band offers a little bit of all our favorite extreme genres, some more than others. Instinct would tell one to compare it to Hellripper, Witchery or Bastardizer, but I'd sooner compare this to Craven Idol, Proscription, or Necrophobic. If anything of that sort sounds appealing, give these Austrian's your attention.

Album Review: Black Death - Black Death

Black Death - Black Death

Auburn Records - 1984

7.5/10

Right at the medium of glam metal's separation from what was simply a sleazier version of our beloved genre of heavy metal, many would begin falling into one camp or another. Cleveland's Black Death capitalized on this factor with a fun play on words just after the NWOBHM movement had exploded, taking obvious influence from it in a way that almost feels too on the nose. Somehow, the borderline try-hard energy results in something more charming than is deserved, realized in the form of only one album simply titled Black Death in 1984. Despite its format, it almost feels like a long form demo of throwing riffs at a wall and hoping they stick.

For starters, the quality of this is as rough and raw as you'd think, covering their otherwise melodic leads with choppy solos and a rumbling overcast that feels like it came out of your high school best friend's basement. Under such a veneer is a variety of different writing tactics, likely only being held together decently because of said rough production. Very quickly will things move from an explosive riff sandwich coated in coarse vocals, to one utilizing falsettos and a slower crawl to bake in a bit more melody. Similarly, we aren't devoid of softer moments that almost reach balladry, only working with the rest because of the production maintaining the same energy.

The other thing that lets Black Death work nicely is how little it takes itself seriously, allowing some tolerance for the fact that the playing is great but the songs aren't. So much ability is showcased for sure, like the drumming expertise on "The Hunger," the bass frenzy and ear for melody on "When Tears Run Red," or the raging kicks behind "The Scream Of The Iron Messiah," that last one being my favorite. Yet, I would struggle to call any of these super coherent or perhaps even complete; again, things feel more like a demo of ideas put onto a disc than a complete thought. They may as well have included the two bonus tracks as the actual album too.

Returning to that factor of how on the nose everything is, I think the differences in approach are so traceable it's almost funny. The aforementioned "When Tears Run Red" may as well be a cover of Iron Maiden's "Remember Tomorrow" with how much it mirrors the chord progressions, bass layout, and vocal style. In the same breath, you'll snag what seems like a Motorhead rip for "Scream Of The Iron Messiah" though perhaps more intricate than what they do, and "Streetwalker" is like if Lemmy sang a song on Def Leppard's On Through The Night (take your pick). All over the place there's obvious nods to Venom, honing in some early black metal vibes, especially in opener "Night Of The Living Death."

With all of this hokiness, Black Death save themselves by the sheer lack of seriousness, the lo-fi cadence, and overly corny subject matter that injects so much charm. Listening to this feels like being nineteen again, jamming metal with some pimple-faced bros accompanied by beers you snuck from your dad's fridge after he left for the night shift. It's unsure if it wants to be NWOBHM, first wave black metal, or sleazy pre-glam, being an easy contender for the made-up term I'll again call "VHS metal." Some quick reading shows a decent cult following, and I'm sure someone's bound to sneer at my critiques, but as for me, it comes down to some fun ammeture listening that isn't great but I still come back to from time to time.