Roadrunner Records - 1987
10/10
Goosebumps. Every single time “that must be it!” followed by Mickey Dee’s drum pummels hit.
It’s often unknown if a solo artist who had built a name for themselves in a band will continue after dropping just one album, or if they’ll leave their effort as a one-off experiment. We can thank our lucky stars that King Diamond didn’t go that route, as it would be almost insulting to not follow up something as fantastic as Fatal Portrait. Abigail not only answers this question, but makes it known that this is a full-time gig, here to stay. If the quality itself doesn’t give that away, then the consistent lineup acting as an Alice Cooper band-era reflection should.
Simply put, the sophomore King Diamond record is the cementation of what was tampered with prior, exchanging good rotten fun for a complete anecdote. Like many of the classic King records, this is simply an added bonus, not just the reason for its excellency. As terrifying as a story about 19th century rich folk experiencing ghostly creatures before the discovery of a murderous demon child is, the presentation of this is what actually sells it. Every moving part in the correct direction is where the vibrancy truly shines. Immaculate timing for every guitar passage, different tones of outburst from the frontman, beautiful drum fills without letting up on the energy, the rising and simmering of intensity; without one of these, the engine’s pistons just wouldn’t fire on all cylinders.
Transitions are a bigger deal than what many give credit for, and Abigail has a serious ear for that. “The Family Ghost” is one of the tunes that bounces all over the place, setting the mood for the characters with what feels like chaos. But I’m of the belief it's built to lead into clarity, as a howling descent into the softest lick on the record in “The 7th Day Of July 1777” signifies a vision in one of the catchiest choruses on the record. Utilization of panic through King’s voice and the trembling riff builds make the payoff that much better. You get another healthy helping of this with the “Arrival” / “A Mansion In Darkness” duo, as the former works in steadier gallops that still exude intensity, feeling like the very warning the horsemen give. Meanwhile, “A Mansion In Darkness” is one of the heaviest songs on the record, upping the intensity to lend credence to the malignant shadows that are soon to materialize before our very eyes.
Are you with me so far? Good, because the final duo of “The Possession” and the title track are where we reach our climax, burning all of this to the ground with hellfire built on supremely evil-cladded guitar and vocal outbursts. Matching the catchiness of “7th Day,” the title track nods towards it by still maintaining sharp melody, but trading clean for mean in slower chugs and deeper snarls. Don’t even get me started on the opening gallop of this one, and I also don’t think there could have been a better track for a synth solo outing. “The Possession” gives similar energy by leading with simpler stomps, only to unleash some of the nastiest fills, bounciest basslines, and wonky solos that invoke the feeling of being hexed. Those acoustics and hissing effects are mere icing on the cake.
All else in attendance works to tie together these massive chunks that almost feel like acts in and of themselves. “Omens” successfully takes us out of the throwback to pave the path towards the climax, “Funeral” is like our opening credits, and closer “Black Horsemen” crafts an epic around somber hopelessness and underlying despair like a post-credits scene that came full circle to the first track. It’s a reminder to the listener not only of the advanced musicianship that surrounds this record, but also that we truly are never safe.
If nothing else, Abigail absolutely nails that balance of not cleaning things up to the degree of scrubbing away the spooky grime, but touching up the spaces between to allow for perfect fluidity. Not a single sporadic solo is out of place, no bassline goes unfelt, and the signature falsettos and howls are as on point as they could possibly be. Using solos in place of verses from time to time works better than any record I can think of, and the way it's all patched together is nothing short of remarkable. I throw praise towards Fatal Portrait more often, as it’s the fun disc, working in the campy horror element alongside sharper standouts, but I’d be a fool to act like its follow-up isn’t objectively better, if not more sophisticated.
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