A couple years following the moment I believe to be what King Diamond's entire post-classic career was leading up to in The Puppet Master, we'd come to find that it wasn't things ending on a bang. This would be the largest gap of time we'd see between records since 1995, perhaps taking a little bit of influence from before, if nothing else because of Livia Zita assisting with vocals again. However, the outing known as Give Me Your Soul... Please is more accurately described as a simplified version of this modern sound, almost reverting back to the sound that it began with in the mid-'90s. Though not quite what I would call "watered down" in style, I may describe the songwriting itself as such.
In other words, Give Me Your Soul... Please blends small hints of the operatic feelings thanks to the extra vocals with the expertise used the last time around and applies them to a far more straightforward template. Many of the songs operate on catchy choruses under an extremely clean production, almost too clean at times. Similarly, the solos slide in with such a slick feeling to match the crystal clear surface, with the usual driving rhythms that rely on that for structure. Together I must admit some of this feels a bit tired. Very little is done to really add that sizzle making former records stand out, and King is absolutely lacking in the oomph his voice once gave such a captivating boost, leaving no room for aggressive snarls or compelling outbursts. Instead, almost everything is pretty heavy metal by the numbers.
Thankfully, like I said, it's very competent, and I can at least say this doesn't feel as forced as Abigail II: The Revenge. "Is Anybody Here?" and "Mirror Mirror" almost deal in Iron Maiden terms with their classic NWOBHM under a powerful drive, and the pummeling gallop of the title track is pretty fun. "Black Of Night" stands out a tad with its vocal tradeoffs, and the album's general tame vibe helps the otherwise basic spooky chops feel like a proverbial funhouse ride. Just don't expect much more than that; even after listening to the better songs, they're not exactly memorable, and it's like coming out the other end forgetting what everything was like.
If I had to compare this to another King Diamond record, it may be The Spider's Lullaby, another one that does its job and has at least some bits of an identity, but is really lacking in terms of doing anything very interesting. Nothing is objectively bad, things are consistent, and the album's existence doesn't feel like a desperate throwback or cash grab, but it's not one I'll return to very often either, especially with its fifty-five minute runtime. Talk of another album has been in the works since seemingly forever, and we can only hope that it really introduces a new element. If it's just another one of these, I'd probably prefer nothing.
Following the complete snoozefest that was a sequel to Abigail, one might assume that King Diamond's time to shine has come to an abrupt end. Thankfully, the 21st Century run of albums seems to have several paths in how it wants to recapture the glory days, and it turned out the aging front man had not only a refreshing outlet prepared in terms of actual music, but in unique identity too. The Puppet Master is sometimes considered a throwback, but I don't think the band has made a single record like it. Not only has the music never felt this operatic and all over the place before, but it's also never felt this horrifying.
Let's discuss that for a minute. King Diamond has long dealt in ghosts, hauntings, and possessions, with mild deviations from this in the likes of The Spiders Lullaby to questionable success and House Of God to great success. This time, a different idea is fleshed out entirely in a witchcraft-meets-body horror sense that's not only terrifying in concept, but delivered in a way that captures all of that fear as if you're watching a movie. A story around gutting out humans, holding their shells of a body for marionette-type props, and preserving their consciousness for the profit of some grotesque antagonists is in line with some of the worst nightmares I've ever had. Ha, maybe there's also a discussion around metaphors for robbing workers of their humanity and leaving them a vehicle for someone else to exploit for personal gain, but I'll save that for another time.
All of this means nothing if the music itself can't convey it properly, but holy fuck, I don't think any other approach beyond the fierce riffwork meeting operatic vocal passages aided by Livia Zita would have been appropriate. Though King utilizes his deeper snarl more than normal here, it trades haunting emotion for grizzly terror, with falsettos being more of a topping to work aside Zita's paralyzing voice than a main driver for melody. Moreover, while the band often used synthesizers for effect more than anything, this time they carry a lot of rhythm and melody beside the riffs, adding even more depth to the proverbial stage presence. "Magic" absolutely nails this to a tee early on, driving crushing chops that collapse into the following "Emerencia," one built on steadier flow but arguably scarier delivery with its unnerving minor tones and chilling operatic layers.
"Emerencia" might also introduce another factor that truly sells this; the usage of typically comforting tricks put into a context that instead makes them feel even more grotesque than something openly demonic or ghostly. Soft, clean, and melodic vocals emulate an unclean feeling that I've not seen done this well since Alice Cooper's Welcome To My Nightmare. "Christmas" may have single-handedly ruined "Little Drummer Boy" for me, as I can no longer hear that song without picturing a carved up human-doll containing a conscious soul forced against its will to sing it for eternity (Sorry, Bowie and Crosby). "Blue Eyes" lays down the theatrics in a way I think even the best King Diamond records of early days couldn't quite achieve to the same effect; this isn't to say the classic albums aren't great (or even better), but I still can't take them seriously the way I do this one. Closer "Living Dead" may be another ode to that, however this works as more of a conclusive paraphrase of the horror we just experienced than anything else.
And perhaps that's the final point, how genuine everything in The Puppet Master feels. As immaculate as Abigail and Conspiracy are, most self-aware fans know there's still a tongue-in-cheek aspect to those that I just don't get with this record. "No More Me" details the body horror a la Alice Cooper without dropping a single hint of uncertainty nor awkwardness; its slow descent into a melody falling apart paints the gory mutilation into my mind like a brush and canvas. "The Ritual" and "Blood To Walk" bake in full-on thrash riffs that melt into the general vibe of this record without feeling out of place at all, once again being enhanced by the deeper snarl. "So Sad" works in emotional heart-tugs in the form of a funeral-like ballad that sneaks sorrow into what's otherwise terrifying, following the classic stomp-meets-epic footing on "Darkness." The pummeling drums in the latter somehow feel even more compelling than they do in the thrashier numbers, which was truly a one in a million shot of working with Zita's vocals so wonderfully. God, even the title track paired with the "Midnight" intro oozes terror in projecting that sinking gut ache of an otherwise harmless puppet show just feeling "a little off."
I don't know where this came from. In one sense, I think The Puppet Master is a complete realization of everything tried throughout the entire era without an era. The overly tacky tricks that didn't land at all on The Graveyard; the obvious attempt at recapturing old feelings that didn't land on Abigail II: The Revenge; the thrashy drive that wasn't quite there but was clearly thought of in Voodoo; the unique angle that miraculously worked wonderfully (possibly by accident) on House Of God, etc. They all meet, shake hands, and give their all to bring out something that's been in the works for over a decade, and fucking smokes everything in its path. In another sense, maybe King and co. just truly shackled down, were struck with inspiration, and ran far with it; you be the judge.
All I know is that this many cannons firing in so many different directions probably wouldn't have worked so well without the operatic overcast, the unique story, the different (but consistent) vocal work, and the bending of something innocent like a Christmas play into a grim and cursed disfigurement that feels like Sid's bedroom in Toy Story for adults. Alice Cooper already did that well enough several decades prior, but it was easy to dismiss that as spooky fun. King Diamond took it and decided to write an actual horror movie built on gore, psychological terror, and grotesque disfigurement. Well fucking done, man. Well done!
I often wonder how many bands, in the year of our lord 2025, look back at their 2000s sequel to a 1980s album of perfection and think "maybe that just wasn't the best idea"; probably none. The weaker parts of both King Diamond-fronted bands are something I tend to chalk up to overwork and overambition, but I'm afraid I just can't grant the same excuse to Abigail II: The Revenge. The monstrosity that is The Graveyard still takes the cake in terms of poor execution, but man, at least its existence warrants some discussion brought to the table. As for this, finding that is quite a task (but one I'm willing to take up).
In layman's terms, what I'm saying is that musically Abigail II: The Revenge isn't the worst thing you'll ever hear. It's competent, nothing really stands out as laughably bad or overly awkward, the general attitude somewhat follows the simplified heavy metal of old with plenty of melody, galloping riff work, and the signature wail of our favorite falsetto front man. But that's literally it; absolutely nothing stands out on this in terms of worthwhile moments. To make boring almost insulting, the flat production almost highlights the tired sounding nature of this disc. Again, it would be wrong to say it's objectively unlistenable. Songs like "Miriam," "Broken Glass" and "Slippery Stairs" do the spooky metal concept style exactly as you'd expect, but even these feel empty. Equally, there are also a few that outright suck like "More Than Pain" and the overly long "Mommy." Regardless of if it's simply sufficient or pretty bad, gone are the soft eerie licks that bring on the anticipation, gone are the energetic pummels topped with catchy leads, and gone are memorable synths and garnishes that really seal that signature sound. Distinguishing one song from another is harder to do than most meat and potatoes death metal albums, and what we're left with is a proverbial corpse without its soul (lol).
Essentially, this is what I imagine would happen if a King Diamond cover band decided to write an album; musicians that know the ropes spitting out what seems like telling AI to write a spooky heavy metal record that may work as background music at a Halloween party and nothing else. If you want a sequel to Abigail, I'd sooner point you to Voodoo as it has some stark similarities story wise, however even that album needed some work in its own way. Otherwise, this is completely skippable, and my harsher words are owed entirely to me wishing this didn't exist. Spend fifty-three minutes doing something else, as long as that something else isn't Operation: Mindcrime II.
Moving into the 21st century, King Diamond would leave Mercyful Fate behind and return to fully focusing on the solo career. Continuing with the shaky but still fierce momentum that had defined recent releases, House Of God might be the band's closest motion of consistency between albums since the classic era. Doubling down on the harsher gallops that covered Voodoo, thrashier direction is traded for more focused but equally hard riffing. If that's not enough, this may be one of the more unique storylines, bringing Christ himself into the folds, perhaps letting the feelings of insanity and bondage add some bitterness to the already heavy tones.
With all of this direction and focus, it makes sense that despite the fifty minute runtime, there's little filler to be detected. Softer licks and dynamic changes in tone are still very present, pulled off in the likes of "Follow The Wolf," but gone are the overly adventurous solos and meandering breaks. Similarly, the more mellow tunes like the title track may be some of my favorites, dialing down the intensity while upping the eeriness without needing any bells and whistles; the vocal harmony in this one is fantastic. "Just A Shadow" deals in the opposite way, driving speedy rhythms and intricate drum fills into a firm strike, leaving a nasty impression as we reach the narrative's climax.
In fact, I would also argue that House Of God has some of the most fun melodies we've seen in a while. "Black Devil" beautifully combines galloping riffs with strong verses, and a great vocal bridge in the descending close of the track. "Help!!!" (don't worry, it isn't a Beatles cover) stomps on driving a monotoned riff in exchange for intricacy to give the vocals several layers for melody, and I truly love "Catacomb" with its crushing poetic vibes thunderous layers, topped off with incredible synths. Even the "Passage To Hell" interlude between these two didn't feel corny or overbearing at all, which is always a plus.
Perhaps it isn't anything mind blowing, but this is easily the best King Diamond record since The Eye, starting the new century on great footing. Things are fully focused, the ideas are clear, and the delivery is menacing. Despite the several tricks up its sleeve, things feel fluid and consistent, using its longer runtime to its advantage. There's never really been a "throwback" album in the band's discography, but if there's one that's close, this must be it!
Coming off the disaster that was The Graveyard and the completely overblown but underwhelming Dead Again at the other full-time job, we reach the final King Diamond solo record of the century. One can't simply blame the lackluster quality on overworking, but it can play a factor, and I believe we'd see this one final time in Voodoo, if not to a lesser extent. It's a very clear step-up from what came before, and like the trends have shown, it doesn't continue in any concise pattern of evolution, just like the last couple of albums. Thus, at the very least, we're left with something different.
If everything felt entirely too theatrical, over-the-top, goofy, and outright unaware on the previous effort, Voodoo reverses that for a far more basic approach paired with a heavy kick that even teeters on the thrash metal boundaries more than subtly. If that's not something to at least throw it props, the unique subject matter around the actual Voodoo religion in the south of the United States was quite a unique choice. This is showcased quickly, as "LOA House" opens up on a note more fierce than we've ever seen, being a wonderful predictor of what would come the following year on 9 in the Mercyful camp. We see this repeated pretty well in "A Secret," leaning hard into the speedy aspect, and the title track is not only unique for its bongo inclusion, but for working in the regular percussion to carry it to eruptive riffing. Hell, I even enjoy "One Down Two To Go" with its soft intro breaking into an absolutely menacing delivery.
The opposite side of this fills in the cracks with tame or otherwise traditional numbers that aren't foreign to the King but also lack the magic verses and compelling leads that we've come to expect. "Life After Death" is a solid idea of old horror flick vibes in the organ meeting slower heavy metal chops, but it runs on just a little too much, leaving little impact in the end. "Sending Of Dead" possesses the same issue, not needing its almost six minute length, and some of the fluff in the likes of "Unclean Spirits" was unnecessary. I'd even say songs like the marching "Sarah's Night" could have worked if not for the wonkiness somewhat ruining what could have been a pounding trudge at full force, seeming unsure if it wants to be a fluff filler or an actual banger.
Truth is, I think this record was just a little too long, a little too ambitious, and missing the magic in several tracks. Nothing is overly jarring, it flows together nicely as one whole piece, and the thrashy overcast was such a wonderful idea. Perhaps a bold statement, but this may have worked better as a full thrash metal release with about ten or fifteen minutes of runtime gone. Cut out some of the meandering fat, tighten the loose ends, work in the melodies, and you'd have an incredible spooky concept in the vein of Metal Church under a haunting King Diamond flare. A little bit of focus in a busy time could have gone a long way, but there's still some value in lending this a listen.
Progressing further into the '90s, both of King's bands are on complete full-time display, we're onto a different label (again), full concepts are reintroduced, the runtime has reached an hour, and the theatrics are boasted like they've never been before! What could possibly go wrong? Well, I guess most of those things don't constitute a problem, but all of them together can be disastrous (or maybe I'm just making excuses). Either way, our seventh full-length record The Graveyard sees the start of an era that has no era; everything from here on out is a matter of throwing, seeing what sticks for better or for worse, and this record is quite a strong indicator of that. The easiest thing to do here would be to simply tell you to listen to the opening title track "The Graveyard" and try not to laugh. What a stage-setter! The sheer unaware silliness that coats the entire 1:22 runtime of it undercuts just about everything else, and that could be the review. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't operate that way (and neither should yours!).
In other words, it would be quite daft to assume that this is the sole reason why something written by the mighty King Diamond turned out objectively bad. For starters, much of the music itself feels dumbed down in each key aspect. Gone are leads that actually feel like they move with purpose, and the vocals that have often screamed forth emotions of fear, terror, or insanity now just sound like empty falsettos or phoned-in repetition. In fact, more often than not, singing and outbursts are replaced with spoken word and hum-like drone tones. Even on songs like "Waiting," where I can at least award it a catchy chorus, it's simply more of the same throughout, doing little to really retain attention.
Similarly, there's an awful lot of meandering in the writing itself. Even an average-length tune like "Waiting" was still not void of this, but your longer ones really hammer that home. "Heads On The Wall" immediately following aims for that slower crawl that the band has perfected so many times, often as an emotional outlet or a means of suspense, but here we're treated to neither. It's instead six and half minutes of bare-basic rhythms, an underwhelmingly repetitive (and of course goofy) chorus, finished with a jarring shift in tone that leaves no impact, and all sorts of unsavory odd vocal moans; hell, even that solo sucked. "Digging Graves" could be described similarly, another slow crawl that should feel insulting to any doom metal enjoyer. Who heard all of the moan, groan and whine that coats so many of these songs and thought it actually sounded anything but ridiculous?
An elephant in the room with The Graveyard may be the discomfort invoked around its subject matter, and I don't mean this in the Clive Barker's Hellraiser way, where I want more of it, but in the Rob Zombie's Halloween way where I wish I could unsee... certain parts. I suppose it's not the worst idea in the world on paper, but the execution itself truly showed how tough it can be to deliver the story of a predator in a spooky context without feeling like you need a shower after listening. Just listen to "I'm Not A Stranger," and I'll reiterate, this is simply insult added to injury. The song objectively does nothing interesting, the suspense doesn't land, the vocals are more spoken than sang, and the vocal noises used as "effect" are simply laughable.
It's awful telling that with all of these problems, I've only discussed about half of the album, but I regret to inform you that the second half fixes none of this. Every descriptor I've given thus far can be applied at least somewhere on the latter half, aiming to resolve things with a vengeful angle that just doesn't feel scary nor compelling. "Trick Or Treat" has that catchy element to it, but literally nothing else besides running on for too long. "Daddy" has that clear aim at suspense that falls short. "Lucy Forever" aims for that emotional edge without reaching it, and "Sleep Tight Little Baby" has that element of discomfort (not the good kind). Package all of this into a full hour of uninspiring music, and you've got your album; disjointed, uninteresting, unflattering, boring, or uncomfortable, take your pick. I understand, a project like King Diamond isn't meant to be taken too seriously as a whole, but there's self-aware fun that still works a chilling nerve, and there's something that sounds like my attempt at writing a creepypasta when I was seventeen. A good friend once described this album as "what all of King's discography might sound like to people who don't like him," and I couldn't agree more.
After kicking out five albums in literal back to back years, King Diamond would finally take a small break to focus on reforming Mercyful Fate, capping off the so-called classic era. Halfway through the '90s, yet another lineup tweak cementing only himself and La Roque as the main duo would also go back to the "half of a concept album" format that worked so nicely on the debut. Instead, The Spider's Lullaby throws the narrative to the back four tracks, dropping standalones in the front. With all of these wheels moving, we get what's seemingly a shift in direction, despite later years never making clear what that direction was.
In a way, The Spider's Lullaby reaches a "back to basics" type of axiom that shies away from the poppy synths and theatrics that grew as the band developed, focusing mainly on harsher riffs and mean vocal snarls. It certainly isn't completely void of the toppings and theatrics, which stick most heavily to the final four songs, but their less-than-obvious presence along with an overtly raw makeup gives things a rustic feel that can feel forced at times. Many of the tracks deal in deeper distortions for added flare to the songs that actually feel as heavy as they boast. "Six Feet Under" is a favorite of mine, along with the pummeling drive of "Eastmann's Cure". I'm also of the belief that the mid-'90s aura had a bigger effect on this than anyone will ever admit, but it matters little.
But the overall picture results in a mixed bag, consisting of mostly decent-enough tracks that don't stick together as well as likely intended, ranging from phoned-in to surprisingly fun. Despite the harsher aura, a lot of songs rely on a catchy chorus, the former being present in opener "From The Other Side," a decent number. Others have a tendency to lean into this too hard, with "Dreams" erring on that phoned-in side that misses the magical transitions and power that made King's earlier singalongs so great, thanks to overly ambitious repetition. Like stated at the top, some still sprinkle in your occasional keyboards, aiding in the likes of the title track and the nearly epic "Room 17" for a balanced sound, but unfortunately does nothing to boost others like "Moonlight," another one that feels far too flat to be saved by anything.
Ultimately, I can say that this is a record full of solid ideas that haven't realized their potential, or at least don't feel as organic together as they could. King Diamond's first release in half a decade falls right in the purgatory of nothing special, landing below the masterful craft that made up the classics, but could have been (and later was) far worse. It's one I haven't any strong opinions on, but makes for a fun revisit on special occasions. Perhaps it's a stretch to call it forgettable, but for any newcomers to the occult outfit, I'd suggest starting elsewhere.
Tjolgtjar, a band name that I'm so glad I don't need to pronounce out loud, is a one-man black metal act out of Illinois that sticks to the raw side of the genre, having been around for almost three decades now. Like most projects of its type, there are so many albums to pick from, and you can guess I landed on Halloween strictly because of its theme around the film franchise. Having hit the scenes in 2007, it's the third full-length fronted by the one who calls himself The Reverend.
Being as upfront as I can, under the surface, Halloween is musically about as generic as this style of black metal can get. Degraded riffing that screams "recorded in a basement," with simplistic beats and throaty shrieks are much of the game's name. Double-tracked vocals give it a little more depth (using that word rather liberally), working a lot of tremolos into the faster parts that blend into the calmer notes held together only by the horrid production. Said production is its main consistency in execution, as there is very little in the realm of transitions, and most of the songs segments are lobbed together, broken up by occasional black metal intensity or over-the-top shrieks that up the unsavory feeling. In just about every way, you can't get anymore "generic raw black metal" than this, except for the elephant in the room.
The Halloween themed songs are the obvious appeal, which should be no surprise. Most of the tracks simply mix in parts of the John Carpenter score in rough guitar form, throwing lyrics to some of them, and then elaborating with the occasional solo or riff-break. Songs like "Judith Myers" tell the story of the character under the backdrop of "Laurie's Theme" (despite "Laurie Strode" being its own song), "Night Of The Living Dead" is simply the movie's theme played in a low-fi metal style, "The Shape" takes down the bass-heavy suspense music from the movie's end and uses it as a rhythm section, etc. Others actually opt for a more original approach, like "The Haddonfield Babysitter Murders" telling the story over The Reverend's own music, as does the "Mask Of Michael Myers." However, the true standout to me is the closing "Silver Shamrock," a literal black metal cover of the TV Commercial used in Halloween III set to the tune of "London Bridges," an absolutely jarring choice but one that I'm not complaining about.
But as much as I absolutely adore the Halloween films, I can't sit here and call the third Tjolgtjar effort great. Fans of the franchise should absolutely give this a listen for no other reason than to fulfill a piqued curiosity, and I really appreciate how fun the idea is. Otherwise, if those films mean nothing to you, then this will probably simply be "another one" to the raw black metal enjoyer, or straight up unappealing to those who aren't into that.
As King Diamond reached the start of the century's final decade, he would begin tampering with the idea of returning to Mercyful Fate, in a move that would culminate influence from both projects. Before that could commence, one more concept record under the solo banner would hit the scenes, the last of which I would call the classic era of either band. Having struck an incredible balance between raw aggression and theatrics with Conspiracy, the next album would push forward with a similar balance. Titled "The Eye", we're also treated to a first-person narrative told through the lens of a necklace from the French Inquisition, giving it a little "based on a true story" flare.
Brought also from the previous duo of albums is the general feeling of insanity and helplessness, as the songs aim to capture an unsettling feeling of abuse, torture and mind control. You can expect chants paired with marching rhythms that carry some heavy theatrics, perhaps a record that's a little more direct with its story. "The Trial (Chambre ardent)" is the most obvious example, cooking this with dramatic changes in speed and rhythm. The drum opener of "Into The Convent" is an explosive lead into one of the most panic-stricken tracks on the album, working the impending feeling of doom with synth layers over clear vocals. This general feeling is a recurring sound that reaches its climax near the end, tapping into the helpless aspect wonderfully on "1642 Imprisonment," which is preceded by the false-safety of a beautiful instrumental known as "Insanity." The melody in that chorus is still so catchy, and "Behind These Walls" also pushes this momentum forward, topped with some exceptional harpsichord work.
Despite all of these garnishes, "The Eye" still feels stripped down strictly in its musical bottom. "Burn" is a fast-chugger that stresses several different vocal techniques over otherwise mean and hostile riffing to pair with the gallop, leaving plenty of room for melody. Despite the crawling chorus, "The Meetings" surrounds it with signature crushing chops, and a strong solo. The entire record has this general foundation, it just takes more digging on some songs than others, and these more direct ones help break things up neatly.
It may be quick to call this record underrated, but it seems anyone that grasps it holds it in just as high a regard as I, so perhaps overlooked may be more accurate. Having to sit between King Diamond's biggest records and the reforming of his former band would be a tough place to land, but the best is made of the situation. A slight changes in an already established direction worked wonders, and if nothing else, this might have the most drastic space between raw production and obvious theatrics. The real ones know what I mean, and if you don't, go figure it out!
