1310. Rainbow / Stranger in us All. 1995. 4/5

When Ritchie Blackmore and Roger Glover, who made up two-fifths of the band Rainbow in its then-current form in 1983, decided to go ahead with the proposed reformation of Deep Purple’s Mark II lineup, leading to that band’s first album in nine years, it left Rainbow dead in the water. Rainbow of course had been Blackmore’s initial vehicle to get OUT of Deep Purple back in 1975, the story of which you can find in the very recent episode of this podcast that is dedicated to the debut album by the band. With his departure the band came to an unceremonious conclusion, never to see the light of day again. Famous last words as it turned out.
Deep Purple released “Perfect Strangers” to worldwide acclaim and followed it with “The House of Blue Light” which did not receive quite the same acclaim (but which I absolutely adore). It surprised no one at the time that the simmering tension that had often abounded between Blackmore and lead vocalist Ian Gillan had continued into this reformation, and that after just two albums it had Gillan quitting once again. The recruitment of Joe Lynn Turner as his replacement then saw the excellent “Slave and Masters” album released, one that almost sounded like a Rainbow album, which given that three-fifths of this iteration of the band had been in Rainbow should not make that a surprise. As the band began preparations for the follow up, there was a huge push from their record company for the band’s 25th anniversary – but they (along with the rest of the band apart from Blackmore) wanted Gillan back in the lead vocals role as a part of this. Despite the tension that still existed, Blackmore insisted and received $250,000 from the record company for this to occur, and Gillan returned for “The Battle Rages On” - the album title not the actual battle... though as it turned out, it was also accurate in the band! The differences between the lead singer and lead guitarist plummeted further, until eventually mid-tour it was Blackmore who pulled the plug and quit, never to return.
Free to now move into a new sphere of his career, Blackmore’s intention was to go out and record a solo album, one where he would be free to create whatever style he desired. Unfortunately, as so many artists who have been in successful bands find out when they are looking to do a solo project, the record company was having none of it. His label BMG more or less insisted that what Blackmore should be doing is recording an album under the name of that other band that he used to be in... what was it... Rainbow? Yeah that was it! How about another Rainbow album! No matter that it had been 12 years since that particular bands last album. Let’s resurrect it and go with that! Despite no doubt being pushed into that decision, Blackmore at least made the decision not to reform that band lineup. Going back to Turner on vocals would have been an interesting step, considering he had just worked with him on a Purple album. Instead, he recruited a whole new band, more or less young gunslingers to team up with the grizzled veteran gun shooter. And as a final statement he made sure that the band took on the name that had originally been the moniker when the band began – Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow. With the new band on board, they went into uncharted territory to come up with the eighth – and final – album of the band’s career, “Stranger in Us All”.

The beautiful opening riff of Ritchie Blackmore’s guitar greets you as you put the album on, stating from the outset that this IS Ritchie Blackmore and his album. It moves into the song proper with his wonderful riff, before we are greeted with the amazing voice of Doogie White for the first time, and it is this combination here that drags you in. This is the first time for most that they would have heard Doogie White, and his entrance is spectacular. “Wolf to the Moon” is the name of the song, and Doogie sends you to the moon with his soaring vocals. But what also hits you is that here, for the first time for a few years at least, is the true Ritchie Blackmore. His guitar is the prominent instrument throughout, not sitting back and letting the organ or vocals or bass have its turn in the spotlight. Here, it is all guitar, all Ritchie. And h seems to be far more comfortable as the leader than just one of five with an equal say. “Wolf to the Moon” is a superb opening track, and is followed by a comforting similarity of days gone by with “Cold Hearted Woman”, which truly channels the last few Rainbow albums in its style and substance. Doogie also channels Joe Lynn Turner here, but this song holds its own here on the album despite any perceived Ghosts of Rainbow Past. “Hunting Human (Insatiable)” has a very different feel about it completely. Indeed, there is a doom feel about the track, that combined with the lyrical prose attached makes it almost creepy to listen to, a song that feels as though it should have a slower tempo with which the guitar is actually propelling, but is being carried by the 2/4 beat of the drums which sticks to a mid-fast tempo. It makes for an interesting track, one that will divide opinion as to its effectiveness.
“Stand and Fight” returns to the stye that Blackmore wrote for the Turner-era albums, picking up the energy and liveliness of the song, and even incorporating the harmonica into the mix. I’m not sure it was necessary or even adds to the track. (Can we mix that out?... No?... okay, just go for it I guess...). “Ariel” is co-written by Blackmore and his soon-to-be wife Candice Night, and the collaboration has similar themes as to where their partnership would take them in the future. It also channels the mystical atmosphere that the early Rainbow albums with Ronnie James Dio headed musically and lyrically. The music here is just fabulous, and Doogie again is amazing, the way he is able to bring in the emotion of the song through his voice is incredible. As the song fades out, you actually feel that there should be more. It’s an interesting glimpse of both the past and the future for Ritchie Blackmore’s music.
Sometimes you wonder just how much trouble Blackmore had in coming up with ideas for this album, and three songs in particular come to mind when you listen to the album. There are of course the final two songs on the album, but there is also “Too Late for Tears”. Now, again, this is a perfectly good song and an enjoyable song. But when you listen to it, you are immediately reminded of another song that comes from the Rainbow catalogue, a song by the name of “Can’t Happen Here”. Why? You may ask. Well, firstly it is the same chords, and the same chord structure as that song. And secondly, even though they are different lyrics, Doogie singing on this song sounds incredibly like Joe Lynn Turner, utilising the same vocal techniques and delivery on this song that Turner did on that original song all those years ago. Coincidence? Perhaps. But surely when they listened back to the finished product, SOMEONE must have noticed the similarities. No matter, it still works. In a creepy, incestuous way.
“Black Masquerade” is a great song, and every time I listen to it, I understand more fully just how influential it, and Blackmore’s music as a whole, is so influential on the power metal genre that was enveloping Europe at the time. Indeed, this song could be seen and heard to be the template for so many of those bands and artists that began to come into the music scene at the time this album was released. And Doogie’s vocals here are a massive part of that. Just a super song and one of the best reasons to come by and check out this album. “Silence” is a completely different kettle of fish, very Blackmore oriented and he gives us his best performance on the album here with some old style Blackmore soloing and riffing. Keys that mirror horns add a contemporary mix to the sound, and Doogie just wails over the top. This is almost just a jam session, it does sound as though they went into the studio and just played to see what would come out. Like I said, the Blackmore of old appears here and it is worth every cent.
The final two tracks are great, but perhaps show just where this project was before it had even been released. “Hall of the Mountain King” is a reworking of the classical piece by Edvard Grieg, one that everyone knows as soon as you hear the most famous piece in the song. Blackmore composed the arrangement for the band, while his soon-to-be wife Candice Night wrote the lyrics for the track. And it works, and it sounds great.
In the long run, it perhaps best sums up this album that by far the best track here is the final one, which is a cover song, and one that should have been better utilised when the band FIRST recorded it. Because the final song is the same one that closed out the band’s debut album 20 years earlier, the cover of The Yardbird's “Still I’m Sad”. On the debut album it had been played as an instrumental despite the band having one of the greatest singers of all time available to be on the track. Here at least the same mistake has not been made, as Doogie White absolutely bosses the vocals here, injecting it with the emotional and power that befits what a brilliant song this is. This version is a ripsnorter, from the quiet guitar doodling from Ritchie to begin the song, right through to its conclusion where he plays it out with another of his wonderful solos. Whether or not at the time they recorded this album they knew it would be the final sign off for the band, it is perhaps the best way for the 20 years of Rainbow to come to its conclusion.

This album passed me by at the time of its release, more from the fact that 1995 was a difficult year in my existence than not wanting to listen to another Rainbow album. In fact, I was quite looking forward to it, but did not actually get around to it until five years after its initial release. By that time of course Blackmore had moved on to his newest love, Renaissance and medieval music, by forming the band Blackmore’s Night with his partner Candice Night, something that held no desire of mine to become involved in. I came across “Stranger in Us All” and gave it a listen, mainly to satisfy myself that I had probably missed nothing in the intervening years since its release. What I discovered was something far more intriguing than I would have thought. There was a bit of everything on the album – I mean, harmonica was present, there was even some horns thrown in at one stage. Another interpretation of Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Moutain King”. And another interpretation of The Yardbirds “Still I’m Sad”. The music SOUNDED like it was based in the sound of the 1970’s, but in a more contemporary fashion. And Doogie White – my goodness, the vocals from Doogie on this album are superb. They are simply the starring role on “Stranger in Us All”. Sure, Ritchie will always be Rainbow, but Doogie here makes the album. He is the driving force of the songs.
I must say I was looking forward to dragging this album out again this week. It is like so many other bands, if I am choosing to like to an artist, there are 4-5 albums that I will favour when I don’t really want to think about what I want to listen to, and when it comes to Rainbow that does centre on the first five albums. But my memory always remembers this as a good album, one that I don’t believe I have ever been disappointed by. And I found the same thing this week. It is a very enjoyable album to listen to. I mean, like Black Sabbath’s “Seventh Star”, it isn’t a true Rainbow album. It is a Blackmore solo album, where he has brought in these young guys and they find a connection and they write and perform some very good songs. OK, so the reverting to familiar track for the end of the album might mean they ran out of ideas, or maybe Ritchie just wanted to do another version of those songs for his own method.
Whatever it might have been, this album is a worthy one. Though the legacy of the band still holds true to its eventual demise in 1983, if this is to be truly considered the final album of the band, it is a good one to go out on. Even if it is only for this scintillating version of this song that shows Doogie White at his powering best.

1299. Paradise Lost / Draconian Times. 1995. 4/5

The journey taken by Paradise Lost over the first few albums of their development showcased quite the journey, and one that saw them making a mark in European countries that were well versed in the music that the band stylised their own output as, but with little recognition in their own home in the UK. Those earliest albums focused on a death and doom metal style, musically and also within the vocal stylings of vocalist Nick Holmes. Having been signed by Music for Nations, they released their third album “Shades of God”, where the progression away from this began in earnest. The band's musical approach certainly evolved within the structure of this album, with the addition of quieter passages in the song's compositions, the softening of vocalist Nick Holmes's death growl, and Gregor Mackintosh's incorporation of acoustic guitar to his sound. The follow up album to this, “Icon”, continued down the path that had been lain, and further cemented the band’s popularity in Europe.
Coming into what became “Draconian Times”, Paradise Lost found themselves on the very edge of a possible major breakthrough. The release of four albums in four years, though it had been a regular occurrence for bands in the decades of the 1960’s, 70’s and 80’s, had become a lost artform, and by not only achieving this themselves, but in the process having created a pathway for the morphing of their own identity into an evolving sound, they had tapped into a fan base that was looking for exactly what they were producing. This even led to the band – through a photo of lead vocalist Nick Holmes – being splashed over the front cover of Kerrang’s issue 549 on June 10 1995 with the headline “The New Metallica – The Band You Need to Hear”. That is a massive statement, and one that threw an enormous amount of pressure and weight onto the back of the band on the eve of the release of their fifth studio album. The question to be asked was, could Paradise Lost and their new album live up to that kind of hype?

Something that I read out there on the internet I think actually provides an interesting analysis of the evolving nature of Paradise Lost up to this album, about how the themes would have been approached by the band at various stages of their career. And here it is: 5 years earlier, it would have been about anger and inhumanity; 4 years earlier, it would have been about guilt and self-denial; 3 years earlier, about religion and sin; 2 years earlier, about loneliness and judgement. In 1995, it was shadowy and indefinite, the lyrics very open and symbolic, still dark, but in a different way. And although this album became incredibly important in setting a template for the genre extension of gothic metal, of the first five Paradise Lost albums, “Draconian Times” seems to have the least distinct character. That isn’t a criticism, it is just an observation.
Much of this album continues to remind me of artists and influences that may well not have been those of the band, but the music and its style and progression undeniably find these comparisons inevitable. The obvious one that is always spoken of is of Metallica’s black album, in tempo and riffage of the music and the style of vocals used by Nick Holmes here, though I will always hear a muted version of Burton C. Bell and Peter Steele as well. But when I have this on in the background, I absolutely catch snatches of Joy Division and The Smiths and Morrissey, which again has been referenced at points during the band’s career.
Much is made of the evolution of Holmes’s vocals from those first two albums to this album. The growl became less prevalent along the way until we reach this album where it is non-existent. And there is no doubt that, along with the music the band was writing, this created an inference and a belief that this is a more commercial album than the early works, or indeed that that was what the band was aiming for. I’ve never really believed that. Having started out in the late 1980’s where thrash metal was still reigning; and then moving through the early 1990’s where grunge took over the commerciality of the music world, the maturing of Paradise Lost’s sound mirrors other artists in the way they approached their music. Smashing Pumpkins on their outstanding album “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness” were mixing grunge and alternative with pure heavy metal in places, and the angst of the lyrics and vocals were not following a plan for commercial success. And I think the same stands true for “Draconian Times”. While the path had been set to a degree from “Shades of God” to “Icon” to this album, it doesn’t come across as a deliberate ploy with an endgame in sight.
Why does this album work so well then? Why is it generally considered to be one of the band’s best, and to have been so influential when it comes to this style of metal? The simple answer is – because it is written and performed so well. The tempo of the album is set from very early on. There is no real wriggle room when it comes to that, but what that does is allows you to settle into the album like you would a comfortable chair, just find your comfort spot and let the album do the rest. New drummer Lee Morris has obviously been well versed for exactly what is expected of him on this album, and he does it superbly. Stephen Edmondson on bass guitar settles in alongside Aaron Aedy’s rhythm guitar perfectly, combining to produce the thick heavy undertone of each song that is the defining aspect of the album. Greog Mackintosh’s leads on this album are understated, not as outstandingly prominent as they have been in the past, but the perfunctory way they intersperse the songs is the perfect rejoinder for them. And yes, Nick Holmes’s vocals are masterful, drawing in an emotional aspect that draws the whole album together. There is a natural flow from song to song, something that if it isn’t done well, the songs can begin to feel a bit too samey, like there has been no definition between one to the next. That isn’t the case here, each song has its own individuality, each casting its own monolith over the album.

When it comes to putting together episodes for this podcast, inevitably there will come times when I am strapped for time, or have so many albums that have come up for their anniversary in the times frames I have set as the parameters for this podcast, that I am forced to put aside some albums, and hope that this podcast is still going in five years time so that I can give them the episode they deserve on that next anniversary. And there have also been some rare occasions when I have been personally sequestered by members of the public - who are much appreciated avid listeners and promotors of this podcast - who have asked if I am going to do an episode on a particular album that is coming up for its anniversary. And if my answer has not been to their liking, they then make it a demand. Such is the position that I have been placed in by two much respected listeners about this particular album, when I waffled on whether or not this album would be one of the ones that received an episode or if it would be cut from the list. Part of the problem with either result is that there is every chance that they may well get their wish in having an album receive its episode, as is the case here, but they may also not like what I have to say about it. Which is why I certainly do NOT encourage requests. Anyway, to Kirsty from Perth, and Jeff AKA Doomy – your demands have been met. And I truly appreciate the love both of you have shown for me and my little inconsequential podcast.
I have never been a big listener to Paradise Lost, or other bands in the same sphere such as My Dying Bride and Katatonia. I have albums by them, I listen to them on occasions, I admire much of their work, but they just aren’t on my go to list. But sometimes certain albums or songs grab your ear at the most interesting times, and from there you have an entry point that never seems to go away. And with Paradise Lost it happened to be this particular album, though not on its release, which is perhaps a shame, for during the year of 1995 it would have been a handy addition to my playlist. It was a couple of years later, when we were living in the inner city suburb of Sydney called Erskineville. The music most listened to by my wife Helen and her friend group from work included bands like I’ve already mentioned here today – The Smiths, Morrissey, Smashing Pumpkins, along with P.J. Harvey, The Cure and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. There’s a lot of desolate work there, and one of these friends of ours whose musical tastes took in these bands but also lent to my own music tastes, one day said “Bill, I’ve got an album that will mix with this perfectly, and you’ll like it too”. So one night he introduced us all to Paradise Lost and “Draconian Times”, and while it didn’t become a hit for those others in the group, they were happy to have it on. Occasionally. Maybe not for long, but long enough. And that was my introduction. I got a copy of the album recorded for me on cassette, and it resided in my car until we moved back home to Kiama in 1999, at which point it was lost. It wasn’t until the 2010’s, when I began the long journey back into bands that I had once heard material from and began to catch up on their catalogues that I met up with Paradise Lost again, and this album in particular. And that journey continues to today. This past week I have again delved back into the wonderful moodiness of this album, on one particular evening on my lonesome in a darkened room as this album played twice in succession without interruption, and I found myself entranced once again by the tones of emotion that both calmed and overwhelmed me as I listened. Is this the perfect state to listen to this album? For me I believe that it is. Having the album channel through me without any other distractions still allows me to gain the most from everything this album and band has to offer.
I am loathe to offer a ranking of this album within the Paradise Lost catalogue, firstly because as I have mentioned I am not a massive listener to the band’s albums, and secondly this album was my entry point to the band, and will therefore have an unfair advantage over the others. Best just to say that having listened to this album more than any others over the years, and it still enchants me to this day in a way that not many albums do.

1298. W.A.S.P. / Still Not Black Enough. 1995. 3/5

From the band’s inception through to 1990, and the tour to promote the release of their fourth studio album “The Headless Children”, W.A.S.P. had been on an inexorable rise in the heavy metal scene. Four excellent albums and one live album had seen their profile rise across the world and their stage shows had created an enthusiasm and a horror at turning up to one of their shows. The rise in tensions within the band, especially between band leader Blackie Lawless and guitar hero Chris Holmes had seen Holmes quit the band, and eventually following the conclusion of the tour the band broke up.
In its place, Lawless went about creating a solo album, a writing and recording process that took over two years to complete. A concept based around a rather autobiographical character named Johnathon Steel, the album came to be called “The Crimson Idol”. However, his plans to release it as a solo album were thwarted by his record company and promotors, who insisted that it should be released under the band name W.A.S.P. Lawless eventually acceded to their wishes, and the album and following tour enjoyed great reviews and sales. This did not save the band as such, with the end of the tour once again seeing Lawless retreat on his own, and begin to compose his next album, which, once again, he was determined to release as a solo artist.
This time however, although the sounds and themes were familiar, there was to be no hiding behind a fictitious character, or to create a story that took elements that he knew and experienced and create a story around them. For this follow up album, the words coming out onto the page were of Blackie’s own stark and sometimes desolate emotions. Whereas “The Crimson Idol” had been deliberately written as a rock opera, a story that utilised fictional characters to represent the story that he had wanted to tell, his follow up to that, a solo album, was Blackie Lawless speaking from the heart, about things he had known and experienced, and hiding behind no mask. He also added some cover songs, as he had done in the past of W.A.S.P. albums, to fill out his album. Once again, though, despite his desire to release this as a solo album, his record company convinced him that it needed to be released under the W.A.S.P. name in order to be able to promote it. Unlike “The Crimson Idol” though, this was not an album with a purpose, it was a letter to his fans describing his inner turmoil, not designed to be an album released by a band. And thus, with the release of “Still Not Black Enough”, the one member of W.A.S.P. and his paid assistants brought out an album that seemed to promise something that it was not – a fully fledged album by the band.

Still Not Black Enough can be seen to be a collection of dark, introspective tunes that extended the Crimson Idol mythology, this time with Blackie speaking directly to his audience about his own feelings. As we will discuss, this album lacks the cohesiveness of its predecessor even as the lyrics explored similar topics to Crimson Idol: being an outcast and misfit, the pressures of fame and society, and the search for love. This album has several different track listings and also tracks, with each version being different from the other, so rather than trying to combine all of those into one review, I will be going off my CD version of the album and reviewing it in that order.
The title track “Still Not Black Enough” is straight away the same style lyrically and musically as “The Crimson Idol”, so much so that it really is almost a cut and paste or colour by numbers reimagining of any numbers of songs from the album. And look, Blackie wrote that album and he wrote this album, so he can perform however he wants. But even the drumming and drum rolls in the song mimic what has come three years earlier on that album. It’s a bit disconcerting from the outset. Blackie offers us lyrics that also reference the darker side of his conceptual magnum opus such as “I can't go on till I get off, for me it's still not black enough, with darkness gone, my fear is seen, my fear is real, my fear is me”. Yes, this is Blackie talking and not Jonathan, but as we all know they are mostly one and the same, and so is this song. “Skinwalker” follows another similar structure musically as Blackie walks us through the torment of his mind, questioning his sanity and how he can fight his way out of the darkness and find his way back to normality. “Black Forever” has Blackie further expunging his fears and doubt and regret, making everything black forever, but wanting to hold it inside and keep it there forever.
The first real change up musically comes from “Scared to Death”, an excellent mid-tempo hard rocking track with a great riff chugging through the main part of the track as Blackie once again spews froth with his fears and the contents of his blackened soul. Bob Kulick offers a great solo through the middle of the song, but the fact that the album has moved beyond its Crimson Idol melodies is what makes this song far more accessible on this album. It doesn’t last for long though, as the similarities return on “Goodbye America”. We have spoken word passages at the start and in the breakdown in the middle, and then Blackie preaching to us about how his country is broken. It reveals more about Blackie’s political ties than it does anything else, and as a poor man’s “Chainsaw Charlie” it doesn’t quite live up to what has come before this. It then, perhaps strangely, is followed up by a cover of the popular 60’s track “Somebody to Love” which was popularised by Jefferson Airplane. Is it a statement from Blackie on what he has been singing about to this point of the album? Is he looking for somebody to love, or vice versa? The cover is fine, but it asks more questions than it answers. This again is followed by the next step with the ballad “Keep Holding On”, acoustically based and with harmony vocals from Blackie himself. Now W.A.S.P. and Blackie know how to do power ballads, and they have some beauties in the past. But this one comes across half-arsed and just there for the sake of throwing in a ballad on the back of the emotional outpouring he has been making lyrically on this album.
There’s a bit of a bounce now though, as “Rock and Roll to Death” channels not only 60’s rock and roll but an old school W.A.S.P version of it, and adds that lyrically as well. It brings a bit of sanity back into the mix here and a feel for traditional W.A.S.P. into the album. It is short-lived though, because then we are accosted by a second power ballad, this one called “Breathe”, which is attempting to channel “Hold on to Your Heart” from the previous related concept album. Again though, it is the poor cousin of that. It lacks the emotive yet powerful element that that particular song enshrines. And if that isn’t enough, then we have the further recycling of musical passages and riff and drum beats to create “I Can’t”. And I get that by now you are probably wondering whether or not I am amplifying the purported similarities of the songs on this album to the previous album, and that I am perhaps being harsh in that comparison. But it really is inevitable when you listen to the album, you cannot help but hear that this is just an offshoot of that album. “No Way Out of Here” does make a much better mix of those characteristics, once again pulling together the themes of this album with the colours of red and black again being brought into play to describe Blackie’s state of mind. “One Tribe” closes out the main part of the album with Blackie crying out for love, whether it is on a personal basis or a part of his whole world.
Following this are two more cover songs which do not appear to be connected to the emotional outpouring that Blackie has done on this album, but are surely just because he loves the songs and the artists. The versions here of Queen’s “Tie Your Mother Down” and AC/DC’s “Whole Lotta Rosie” are faithful and you can hear the joy as Blackie plays them, and is a good way to finish off the album.

Given that this album came out in what for me was the black hole year of 1995, I didn’t actually pick this album up until the early months of 1996 once my life had settled down a little again. I had bought the greatest hits CD called “First Blood, Last Cuts” that had kept me company through most of that preceding year, so that when I saw this in Utopia Records when I walked in one day it was very exciting. W.A.S.P. had grown into one of my favourite bands, especially on the back of both “The Headless Children” and then “The Crimson Idol”, so seeing “Still Not Black Enough” meant for me more of the same. Surely! It is fair to say that this album was not what I expected, but looking back from this long length of time I don’t know why I didn’t expect it. As you have heard, this album is almost a direct continuation of “The Crimson Idol” both musically and lyrically. It could almost be a sister as such. But what it truly lacks is that fable story, the one with the start and the finish, and with the songs written to tell that story chronologically. Here Blackie expels his heart into song, but this is now his story and not a characters story, and that gives a point of difference to the way this album plays out. And for me, at that time, having been through a year where emotionally I had been completely wrung out, I probably wasn’t in the best headspace to get the most out of this album at that time.
So don’t get me wrong, I listened to this album the usual required amount that you do when you buy a new album, and eventually came to the conclusion that if it came to a choice between listening to this album or “The Crimson Idol”, then the latter would win hands down every time, and that was the direction I followed.
Over the preceding years this has been played sporadically. I have never not enjoyed it, but again when it comes to W.A.S.P. there are any number of other albums that I would prefer to listen to when it came to me wanting to listen to something from that band. The most recent time before the past week was a few months ago when I was a guest on Uncle Steve’s Mega Maiden Zone and we waffled on for three hours on a W.A.S.P. retrospective that was very enjoyable to do.
And so we come to this week, and my CD has come out again, and I have had a lot of fun reliving the album again on multiple occasions. And I still consider this to be a Blackie Lawless solo album, just under the W.A.S.P. moniker. And I think if you accept it as that you’ll find you can get more out of it, because you aren’t searching for things that just aren’t there. If you allow yourself to compare it to the previous album you will walk away disappointed. If you give it a chance, you will find some songs here that are worth your while checking out. And it does rank low on my list of W.A.S.P. albums. Of the 15 studio albums the band has released I rank this at #14.
Not for the first time this could have been the end for W.A.S.P. and yet once again they were pulled from the flames at the last instance, or perhaps it was the phoenix rising from the ashes. Because the return of the prodigal son set up the phase the band’s career, and set them on a musical course that was as at the furthest reaches of the spectrum that you could possibly imagine over their next three releases... but that’s a story for another episode...

1297. Gamma Ray / Land of the Free. 1995. 5/5

By 1994, Gamma Ray had established itself as a premium metal band in its own right. On the back of Kai Hansen’s departure from Helloween at the height of its fame and popularity, Gamma Ray had released three albums that built on the same writing and playing skills that Hansen had brought to his previous band, along with the screaming vocals of Ralf Scheepers that had given the band a huge lease of life. Apart from Hansen and Scheepers though, the band had had a revolving door when it came to the other band members, which gave the group the feeling that it was a solo project rather than an actual band. That was not to change after the release of the band’s third album, “Insanity and Genius”, and the tour to promote that album. This time, it was Ralf Scheepers who was providing a difficult situation for the band to cope with. For one thing, Scheepers did not live in the same city as the rest of the band, he was on the other side of the country where he lived and worked. It meant that he was only available for the band on weekends, and the travel situation was beginning to become a problem. On top of this, Judas Priest, who had been without a lead singer since Rob Halford had departed in 1991, had begun to search for a replacement. Schepers had been a life long fan of the band and was interested in auditioning for the role. All of this built steadily until it came to a crossroads.
In an interview in 1999, Kai Hansen spoke about the developing situation the band found itself in, and why it was that Ralf and the band eventually parted ways:
“There were two main reasons. One was after the first three Gamma Ray albums we said – now we want to do a really, really good album, something really killer. But Ralf was not living in Hamburg, he was living 700 km away from here. For that reason he only came up for a while for rehearsal or for the recordings. But to do an album which was really good we needed him there constantly. In years before we had been talking about him moving to Hamburg but at that time he still had a job going on...he still does and he's never going to leave it somehow. He could not really make up his mind to move to Hamburg and there was one problem with that because when we wrote the songs I was always trying to think of his voice but on the other hand it would have been a lot better if he write his own vocal lines, melodies and lyrics. When he came to Hamburg most of the times I was singing in the rehearsal room when he was not there and I was singing on my demos so it was like everything was more or less fixed and he could not really change it. We wanted that to change, therefore we wanted him to move to Hamburg, he could not make up his mind. Then we said either you do it or you die somehow you know...like putting the pistol to his chest. Well....on the other hand he had this Judas Priest thing going on. He wanted to be given a chance. I was the idiot who told him maybe for fun just try it out when it was clear they were searching for a singer because Judas Priest was always his favourite band. We were thinking about him doing the Gamma Ray album and then going to Judas Priest. All in all it led to the point where we said we'd rather split our ways at that point because it doesn't make sense to go on like that”.
With the album well underway, the band now had to find a new lead vocalist, not something that was easy under any circumstances. There was talk of the band recruiting Kai’s former bandmate in Michael Kiske to come on board, as he had just parted ways with Helloween himself. Kiske however had a major disillusionment with metal music at that time and was not seen as the best option. Several other names cropped up, but there was a consistent message coming from not only the band’s friends, but from the fan base itself. That message was, that Kai should take on the role himself. Kai had of course been vocalist and guitarist on the original Helloween EP and debut album “Walls of Jericho” before leaving that dual role to concentrate of presenting the best guitaring he could for the band. Ten years on, and he had the decision to make again. He had sung on all of the demos of the new songs because Ralf had been absent, which meant that they were all designed for his vocals anyway. Could he perform the same role once again? Would he be able to do both roles on stage? Despite some initial doubts, Kai took it on.
All that was left to do now was to record the album and get it out for the fans to decide. In a 2008 interview, Kai spoke about the importance of the Land of the Free album and what it represented:
“We made it exactly at a time point when this kind of metal was proclaimed to be dead as can be. Where it was almost like if a drummer came up with a double bass drum people would say 'ya dooga daga yourself out of here man.' Everything was ruled by Kurt Cobain and the alternative to the alternative and all that kind of stuff. So at that point we made an album like this and it went down very successful. That was cool, that was something special. I think it was the album that gave Gamma Ray the acceptance as being a band not only a Kai Hansen project”.

“Land of the Free” acts as a concept album, the age-old fight and story of good over evil, and in order to kick that off in the right way, it is necessary to create an opening track that is an epic. And there have been few better or more astounding opening epic songs to an album than “Rebellion in Dreamland”. The pure excitement of hearing Kai on vocals again rolls into the opening riff, Kai’s voice rising above it all to announce his arrival once again as the frontman, and we roll into opening verse. “Rebellion in Dreamland” builds in intensity throughout its opening, dragging you along to pick up your swords and join the march of the rebellion itself. The song itself doesn’t stick to the verse chorus verse format and is all the better for it. It is a swooning, melodic roller coaster with the pace coming in movements, the scene of the story being drawn from music that creates the magic. The guitar solos that cascade with fury down the other side of the mountain crash into the slow drifts below, into the final denouncement of “Have no fear, rebellion is here” into the climax of the track. It is a majestic way to open this album.
But there is no time to rest, because then we crash straight into “Man on a Mission” which sets off on its double time pace from the outset, a perfect follow up from the epic-ness of the opening track. Here the hero is introduced and sent off to his destiny by the band in a cracking song. Thomas Nack’s terrific double time drumming sets the pace, with Jan’s bass line rumbling like a freight train throughout. The energy of the song never lets up, but is channelled into different pockets through the song such that it is arguably the fastest and heaviest track on the album. The only time it lets up is for the 20 second spoke part in the middle of the song, before it careers off again at speed to regain its power. One of the architects of speed metal is at it again here on this song. Then “Fairytale” acts as the segue between this song and the next, a one-minute burst that channels all of energy and passion of “Man on a Misson” and pushes us directly into the next phase of the story and the album, the amazing and brilliant “All of the Damned”, with the beautiful opening bass riff to open the song, into the main guitar riff that that runs into the opening vocal stanza. Kai’s vocals reign supreme here, and the middle solo section of the track enhances the atmosphere that the whole song produces, all while describing the doubts our hero has as he moves on his way to the enemy, and seeing the faces of those that have gone before him and failed. The mood of the song showcases this in a dreamlike fashion. The conclusion of the song segues into the instrumental “Rising of the Damned”, which finishes off the opening stanza of the album perfectly, and a remarkable opening to an album.
“Gods of Deliverance” crashes back in with a great drum solo opening from Nack rolling straight into the song at great pace. It’s another anthemic drive for the band without respite, replete with harmony guitars and duelling guitar solos, thundering bass lines from Rubach, who wrote the music for the track, and another passionate delivery of vocals from Kai himself. Following on from the opening songs on the album, this song beats its chest in the same drive and passion that this album has found with its new lead vocalist. But change is afoot, because next comes “Farewell” which is the power ballad of the album, the only song composed by Dirk Schlachter. Dirk was still working on it as the band was recording the album. In many ways it stands out on this album because it is so different from the other tracks, perhaps to be expected given the different composer but also for the style of the track. Power ballads can halt the momentum of albums, and there is little doubt that it does that to certain degree here, but as fitting in the part of the tale it tells it still has its place. Indeed, it is boosted by a guest appearance from Blind Guardian’s vocalist Hansi Kursch who not only sings back-ups on the track but also the third verse of the track. Kai had appeared in a guest spot on three Blind Guardian albums prior to this, and Hansi returned the favour here. From here we burst out of the softer side straight back into the battlefront with “Salvation’s Calling” that exudes energy and drive from the outset. Rubach’s solo contribution of both music and lyrics to the album gallops out of the speakers at you with his fast-paced bass guitar driven by Nack’s double kick drumming pushing along the song at every opportunity, and Kai standing astride the soapbox delivering his vocals with increasing passion. You feel the gathering momentum of the protagonists of the story as they can feel the turning of the tide, and the song expresses it beautifully, charging all the way to the conclusion of the song.
The title track is a triumph, a raging, charging, cry of victory song titled “Land of the Free”. This is the pinnacle of the album and the story, the moment where victory is within sight. And what better way to celebrate and embellish that than with this song – heavy with fists raised in the air, with drums and guitar riff crushing from the outset, Nack’s double kick leading the charge as Kai stands at the front of the stage and cries “Grab your heart and I’ll show you the way, hold your head up high!”... and then comes the chorus, and the combination of two of the most famous and amazing voices in metal combine, with Kai joined on the highest of high harmony by Michael Kiske, the man who joined him in Helloween to take on the lead vocal role. And just for good measure, let’s throw in Hansi Kursch to help back them up. Three of the greats, all here. It blazes with even more greatness in the bridge, as the three combine again for “And when the cracks appear upon the wall, we know the moment's here to see it fall, and as the sunlight appears again in our sky, no wall (No more), no wall (No more), no wall will darken our life”. And then careering through to the end of the song, with Jan Rubach’s bass guitar going nuts over the top of the guitars, into the final chorus, and then Michael taking us out in a way only he can, to complete a just magnificent song.
“The Saviour” acts as the perfect segueing of the title track and the next, the bridge between the two, giving the album and the listeners to catch their breath for a moment, before we jump into the epic motion of “Abyss of the Void”. This tells the story of the return of the Saviour, having defeated evil and returned to be celebrated. The perfect mix of drama and celebration in the music and vocals, it showcases the terrific rhythm changes as the band switches from quiet and atmospheric to epic and energetic and back again through the song. After his wonderful cameo on the title track, Michael Kiske returns to the sole role of lead vocalist on “Time to Break Free”, and this track channels the joy of Helloween and happy guitars and Michael singing to the hilt in a joyous way throughout. With the epic moodiness of the preceding tracks, this one restores a depth of brightness to the album, with a positive vibe in both music and lyrics, and Michael projecting it in spades. To hear Kai and Michael together again here not only lifts the album but gives hope to a further revival down the track. That DID occur, but it was a long ways down the road.
And so, we come to the final track on the album, and given everything that has come before it, could there be any passion and drive left? The answer to that is yes, there can. “Afterlife” has the music written by Rubach, composed in the sessions prior to the album’s recording, but the lyrics are written by Kai, and they cut close to the heart. On March 8 of 1995, Kai’s friend and former Helloween bandmate, drummer Ingo Schwichtenberg, threw himself in front of a train near their hometown of Hamburg in Germany. He had been suffering and dealing with the effects of schizophrenia for some time, and had obviously decided enough was enough. “Afterlife” was the final song on the album to be recorded, and when Kai brought the lyrics in and the band played the song, emotions ran high. Nack has said that they got the song down on just the second take, and the raw emotion of the lyrics and vocals are plain to hear even all these years later. The song is dedicated to the memory of Ingo at the end of the lyrics sheet. There is perhaps not a better tribute to have given him.

The black hole year of 1995 is one that I have had to look back on often during this new podcast, as the anniversary of years that I am basing my reviews on corresponds with all the years ending with 0 and 5. Let’s just say that I have had better years than 1995.
After the release of their third album “Insanity and Genius”, I missed Gamma Ray for a period, as I did a lot of music that was released around the same period. In fact, it wasn’t until the end of 1996, on a trip in to Utopia Records in Sydney, that I became reacquainted with them again. In fact, on this particular lunchtime, I found a truckload of albums from two bands who had slipped off my radar for a while, that being both Helloween and Gamma Ray, and they were albums that I didn’t even know existed. Helloween’s albums with their revamped post-Chameleon lineup, “Master of the Rings”, “The Time of the Oath” and the double live album “High Live” were all there and purchased that afternoon. Also with those came Gamma Ray’s “Land of the Free” and THEIR live album, “Alive ‘95”. It was an exciting trip back home on the train (only ten minutes in those days as I was living in the inner-city suburb of Sydney called Erskineville), especially as I opened each CD and read the band notes inside, and discovered that Kai Hansen was now also back as lead singer. I still remember that exact moment I discovered that news and just how excited I was. As a result, it was no contest as to which album I was going to listen to first as I burst through the door of our tiny town house in Devine Street.
When I first heard the opening to “Rebellion in Dreamland” I was blown away. Literally. It was just ridiculous how good this track was, and hearing Kai on lead vocals again was just incredible. And the album was instantly amazing, beyond anything I could have imagined. There was a certain level of disappointment over “Insanity and Genius”, and it was obvious that the problems that existed within the band that led to Ralf Scheepers moving on before this album was released were the same that that album had suffered from. Take a listen to Kai singing the songs from that album on the greatest hits album “Blast from the Past” and you will hear the difference, the way those songs were SUPPOSED to have been sung. And here those problems were gone, and it is clearly obvious how superior this album is to that one.
I cannot adequately explain how much I love this album. Why that should be the case is also difficult to explain. Helloween grabbed me from the moment I began listening to them, and it was Kai’s vocals on the EP and debut album “Walls of Jericho” that struck a chord. The songs he wrote were generally my favourites. And those first albums by the band were and are incredible. Then he left, and formed Gamma Ray, and I loved them just as much. There is just something about his songwriting and guitar playing that has a deep hold on me. And then this album came along, and he was singing again, and the album was so fast and heavy... I mean, there was just never any doubt I would love it. The great part about it is that the rest of the band are just as on song. Jan Rubach and Thomas Nack are sensational throughout, and Jan’s writing contributions are important pillars of the album. And Dirk Schlachter, who has been there from the beginning, is terrific on guitar, and soon to be on bass guitar.
So I have had this album on again for the last two weeks, but it is another album that rarely spends too long away from my stereo. 24 times I have listened to this album again at home and at work and in the car. It never gets old. It is an album that I can go to, in pure joy or in desolate despair, and it will right the ship or extend the joy even further. It is an incredible feat of songwriting and recording. When it comes to list of best ever albums and the such, it is almost impossible to narrow them down. Put it this way, if I could only listen to ten albums for the rest of my life, this would be one of the first ones I would choose. This is a masterpiece, and an album that I will go to the grave still listening to.

1287. Faith No More / King for a Day... Fool for a Lifetime. 1995. 3.5/5

Faith No More had been on a roller coaster ride since the unexpected and overwhelming success of their album “The Real Thing” when it was released in 1989. The acquisition of Mike Patton as lead singer had been a major part of that climb out of obscurity, with his amazing vocals and stage antics creating a focal point for the band and offering a real dynamic between all band members. Backing this up was always going to be a tricky proposition, and the “Angel Dust” album managed to split the fan base when it was released in 1992, as the music followed a less commercial direction than much of the new fanbase that they had gathered from that previous album would have expected. Instead it went out in a crazed alternative landscape that made its own extension from grunge music that had taken the world by storm at that point in time, and in its own way contributed to the offshoots that came over the next three years with the diversifying of the music conglomerate of the mid-1990's.
Faith No More faced a number of problems as they headed towards where they wanted to drive when it came to their next album. Number one of those was the fate of guitarist Jim Martin, who had major problems with the direction the music was heading with the band. Martin stated on his website that he felt that “The Real Thing” was the band’s ideal album, both in the creative process and the subsequent touring, and that the change in musical style, and in focus from guitars to vocals with the arrival of Mike Patton, did not sit well with him. There had even been questions raised as to whether Martin had played on “Angel Dust”, to which bass guitarist Billy Gould said in an interview on PopMatters in October 2016, “He played, but the writing process was extremely difficult because he wasn't really much of a fan of the music. He wasn't really behind it. He wasn't really into it. So it was a tough process. I mean, I think, really, we realized that he wasn't going to continue while we were making that record because he was just on a different musical page."
Martin was eventually fired by fax from keyboardist Roddy Bottom in November 1993. In his place the band brought in Patton’s Mr. Bungle bandmate Trey Spruance to record guitars on the new album. This also turned into a story after the album was completed when Spruance left the band and was replaced for the subsequent tour by Bottom’s keyboard roadie, Dean Menta. Both sides tell a different story. The band claim Spruance was unwilling to commit to a long touring schedule, and Gould himself labelled him a “spoilt rich kid who did not want to tour”. On the other hand, Spruance recalled not even having enough money to buy the magazine where Gould said this about him. He remembered, "this is like one of those stunning juxtapositions in life when you're standing in fucking Tower Records and this thing goes out to the whole world that you're this spoilt, privileged rich kid, and you can't even buy the fucking magazine it's written in. That was really almost like a cosmic moment."
Adding to this, Roddy Bottum himself was mostly absent through all of the writing and recording process, due to the passing of his father and also that of Kurt Cobain. Bottum was a close friend of Courtney Love and Cobain’s death had hit him hard. He also had developed a heroin addiction, which eventually led to a band intervention over the matter. As a result, the album was composed with almost no keyboards in the mix.
So as you can see, there was a little bit going on.
Writing the album took up to nine months, which included the search for a replacement for Martin, while the recording took another three months on top of that. In a 1995 Australian radio interview, drummer Mike Bordin felt more focused than “Angel Dust”, and that the departure of previous guitarist Jim Martin made the writing process easier. Gould was also quoted at the time, "we've never written stuff with Jim, as a band. Usually we'd give him a tape and he'd put stuff to it because he didn't like practicing with us much." Gould added in another interview, "it's heavier, it's more direct and it's the first record where we had the guitar the way we wanted it. Now it feels we're a dog who's been let of the leash."
It was a long and delayed time period, but eventually Faith No More had their new album completed, released to the world in March of 1995 under the ironic title of “King for a Day... Fool for a Lifetime”.

There always felt like there would be a difference in the sounds produced on this album without Jim Martin there to offer his distinctive guitar riffs. The recruitment of another Mr. Bungle member did tip the balance in the possibility that the music on this album could slide more in that direction now that Martin had gone. Overall that isn’t the case, and although the band made it clear that Martin had not contributed much to the writing cause in recent times, it is noticeable here the directional change that the band has made now that he was out of the equation all together. And there is a whole component here that marks the changes afoot for Faith No More the band. Indeed, the songs here are equally split between what they had traditionally produced, and a different more progressive charting for the future.
The opening salvo of “Get Out” is from the old school, written by Mike Patton and featuring his genuine typical vocal performance and the hard riff and drum beat that mark the best songs from the band. This bleeds into “Ricochet” which develops the same vibes but with a slightly deviated energy from what the band and Patton has provided prior to this album. Indeed, it can be seen to be a more mature offering of the Faith No More core sound led by Patton’s vocals that are the main reference pint of the song.
Then comes “Evidence”, and this is where the ‘evidence’ of a change in the Faith No More template can first be found. This is a song heavily in depth of soul and R&B influences, with the heavily funked tones of both guitar bass being the overriding dominating factors of the track. This is the first of several songs on the album in which you can see the band playing in a small smoky jazz club dressed in suits and playing underneath the sounds of constant chatter from the assorted crowd at tables drinking champagne. It is a huge change, one that takes time to get used to.
Out of this quiet and introspective style than comes to return of the harder more belligerent more typical Faith No More attack in “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies”. It still oscillates throughout the song from the quiet lyrics over Bottom’s bass before bursting into the hard-core vocals style driven by Spruance’s guitars and Bordin’s drums. This is the kind of song that drew in the long-time fans and is still a fan favourite to this day because of the energy and passion that explodes out of the song. There is then a reversion with “Star AD” which continues in the theme of a lounge club song, the soul inspired track that also implements a brass section to enhance the feel of the track, and Patton using his deeper lower key vocals to bring that feel and emotion to the track. “Cuckoo for Caca” is a sister track to “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” in the way Patton’s almost deranged vocals take over and dominate the track, with the music and mix of the almost unwritable riffs from bass, keys and guitar meshing together still being brought together as the band often did in their earliest form. “Caralho Voader” throws in a Brazilian theme into the mix, again moving to the jazz club scenario for the music inspiration for the track, whereas “Ugly in the Morning” returns to the themes of “Cuckoo for Caca” with Patton’s completely over the top screaming dominating over the meshing of styles musically once again. It seems likely that the changes in style of songs from track to track was a deliberate decision from the band and producer, but personal preference would be something that would determine if this was a wise move.
The first single released from the album comes next with “Digging the Grave”, which combines the marketability of Faith No More’s previous guise of short sharp song dominated musically by Bordin’s drums in the foreground, the keys lower in the mix and the bass on top of that, and Patton’s vocal destruction also making the guitar superfluous. He hits the energy button on this song and is the driving force and man out front. From here we have the typical change of style again with “Take This Bottle”, which slows everything down like a slow motion replay, or more accurately like playing a 45rpm record at 33rpm. That’s how it feels and sounds. It plays like a slug crawling across the turntable and Patton’s vocals sound as if they have been drawn out into eternity as the whole song winds down rather than winding up at any point in time. It almost has a country twang to it as well, though the piano keyboard and synth background don’t quite make that mix well either. Then the title track “King for a Day” has mirrored similarities in sections to the opening strains of the album, with Bottom’s atmospheric keys through the song giving it an uplifting, almost building crescendo through from the middle of the track to its conclusion. The song does build that way, with Patton’s vocals in the middle in the quieter lower key that then follow the lead of the music to become harder and more definitive. This acts as the epic track of the album, with the rises and falls of platitudes of the music, and the strength throughout making it one of the highlights along with its progressive feel. “What a Day” cries out with intensity and energy, driven by Billy Gould’s thumping funky bass guitar, and Patton goes hard lyrically and vocally again. Due to Gould’s bass this really brings back parallels to the early Faith No More albums.
“The Last to Know” continues the bands push towards a progressive nature in some of the material hear, with a softer rhythm tone dominated by the synth, before an understated guitar solo from Spruance takes the song out to its conclusion. There is no outward variation in vocals, simply a slow build that remains contained within the framework of the song. It is a new direction for the band, highlighting the different tones being employed here on this album. This continues into the album closer, “Just a Man”, an extension of what we have just heard, apart from the passionate reselling of the chorus by Patton along with choir backing vocals. These two songs in particular show what could be said to be the growing maturity of the band musically. This is another song that feels as though it is being performed in a club by the band dressed in suits rather than by the hard rock funk band they had come to prominence as. Even though they had moments of that old style on this album, these closing tracks seem to be painting a different future for the band, one where they change their clothes and personalities completely.

This album was released in what for me was the great big black hole of 1995, a year that should I ever get the chance to go back and erase I would do in an instant. And there were not a lot of albums that I went out and purchased during this year, but this was one of them. I can assure you I didn’t really know what to expect given the stylistic differences between the previous four albums the band had released, and on first listens I remember that it didn’t really grab me. I could identify the songs that did catch my attention straight away and also the ones that didn’t. What did give this album a boost was the fact that two weeks after its release, Faith No More was one of the headline acts at the first (and unfortunately only) Alternative Nation music festival at Eastern Creek west of Sydney. During this show they played several songs off this album, being “Get Out”, “Digging the Grave”, “Evidence”, “What a Day”, “King for a Day” and “Ricochet”. And I remember the crowd being most subdued during them, because the album itself had been out for only two weeks. Still, for me who had at least heard them, it inspired me to give the album more of a go than I perhaps would have without that festival.
What it is fair to say is that at the time it was released, I was putting it on as background music to what was occurring in my life at the time. There were dead spots on this album that I noticed but probably didn’t process overly much at the time. I know when listening to the CD on my stereo the skip button on the remote would get used at times, and the fast forward button on the tape player in my car as well. But this didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the album obviously, because when discussing the album over the years I remember I have talked it up as being ‘not as good as “Angel Dust’ and ‘The Real Thing’, but still pretty good!”
So we come to the present day, and over the last week I have listened to this album again a dozen times, sometimes in the background at work but then also with a discerning ear for the review for this episode. And it has probably confirmed my suspicions that I think have hovered in the back of my mind since I first bought this album. And those thoughts are that basically, this is an album of two parts and almost two different eras of the band, put together in an order to make you think that it isn’t. On a recent episode for Billy Joel’s album “Glass Houses”, I mentioned how all of the known and popular songs are on the first side of the album, and the lesser known tracks are left to fight for themselves on the B side. In the instance of this album, the band and producer have obviously decided to mix the two different styled tracks in with each other, in the hope that fans who prefer only one of those styles – either the hard heavy and funky style of their previous releases, or the more introspective jazz club style or progressive style of the other tracks here – would not notice, and come to love the album as a whole. Now I’m sure that for many fans, this DID come to pass, and they fell in love with the album as a whole, with the full package of differing song styles that abound here. Certainly in Australia the album went to #2 on the charts and #5 in the UK which would suggest it succeeded. But in the US it could manage only #31 which suggests it missed the mark there.
The end result for me then is that it is an album that I seem to have enjoyed more in the past than I do now. This probably came into clearer view once the bands next album, “Album of the Year” was released. There are still some great songs here. I adore “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” and “Digging the Grave” and enjoy most other songs, but there is the occasional hiccup here where momentum hits a brick wall that makes parts of the album difficult to focus on. Despite this, of Faith No More’s seven studio albums I rank this as #3, though it is a close run thing. If only they could have reconciled with Jim Martin...

1109. Skid Row / Subhuman Race. 1995. 3/5

The first half of the 1990’s decade took such a significant turn from the way it started until the time it bloated that it is no surprise that so many bands who had begun their internship in the 1980’s had been either destroyed or dissolved or had had complete facelifts by the time 1995 came around. The intense change in the genre that flooded the music world, and the speed that occurred at, meant that so many bands were left floundering in its wake. And, even while living through that time, it was hard to accept what occurred to so many bands that you loved. Some of them broke up through the pressure of trying to compete with the new wave of grunge and then what followed, destroyed by a phenomenon where record companies suddenly wanted bands to ‘write an album like that Nirvana band, they seem to be popular!’ And when they found that they couldn’t, that they were unable to break out of their hair metal glam roots, they were dropped by those record companies like a stone. Those that gave it a crack found themselves being accused by their fans of selling out and were dropped by them like a stone. And there were those bands that made some necessary adjustments to their music tone and found themselves in purgatory.
Skid Row had been riding the crest of a wave since their arrival around 1988, jumping on the coattails of Bon Jovi, Whitesnake, Ratt and Motley Crue, and finding an audience that was all about their hair metal sound with a bit of attitude. Their debut album brought them to prominence, before their sophomore effort blew people away with a heavier sound, songs that covered the gamut of emotions of heavy metal and drew in an even wider fan base. Their five track EP “B-Side Ourselves” kept that wave going as their touring schedule extended throughout the early years of the decade. All around them during this, the music world turned on a screw in a six month period, and by the time Skid Row’s touring schedule was over, heavy metal and hair metal and hard rock had suddenly transformed into a whole new beast. Indeed, with the tour to support the “Slave to the Grind” album finishing in Australia in February 1993, the manager Doc McGhee actually suggested to the band that they take an extended break, to wait for the grunge movement to fade away. While that suggestion wasn’t such a bad move, for Skid Row the problem was that following on from grunge came the alternative wave and the industrial wave, neither of which suited Skid Row’s sound either.
In retrospect, the band’s response to this when looking to write and record a new album perhaps had merit but, in many ways, backfired spectacularly. The band parted ways with Michael Wagener who had produced the band’s first two multi-million selling albums, and someone who was familiar with the band and their style and their eccentricities. In his place, they hired Bob Rock, who had a list as long as your arm of albums he had produced or engineering for big bands including Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, The Cult and of course Metallica. Here was someone who knew the industry and knew music trends. He had just come off producing the self-titled 1994 grunge-alt era albums of both The Cult and Motley Crue, and would soon begin on Metallica’s next album, which would be released in 1996 and titled “Load”. So if anyone could keep Skid Row on their current crest of a wave, it HAD to be Bob Rock. Right?

Skid Row’s debut self-titled album had opened with bright and breezy tracks, great riffs and excellent vocals which entertained you from the outset. Their sophomore album “Slave to the Grind” had begun with tuned down heavy riffing and hard drumming and spitting vocals that had your head banging from the start and dragged you delightedly into the album. In both cases, the opening tracks to the album were instrumental in getting you hooked. “Subhuman Race” did neither of these things, and it is perhaps the most damning judgement on the album from the very beginning.
Many may argue that this simply isn’t true. Many reviews at the time suggested that this was Skid Row’s heaviest offering to that point in time. I believe it is fair to say they were confusing heavy for what it was being compared to in the music scene at the time. “My Enemy” opens with a riff and drum beat that plays as though it is in that heavy range and perhaps it is, just in a slightly Pantera way. This is designed straight for the fan base of 1995, the sound is designed to reel in those changes in music of the time and channelling it straight into their quad boxes. The guitar solo is the dead giveaway, immediately heralding the arrival of Skid Row the alt-metal group, a transformation that has been brought to bear by the times and perhaps even the direction of the new producer. “Firesign” follows, and sounds similar to a Queensryche-written and performed song of the era. Given that that band was also in the throes of abandoning all of their ties to their 80’s metal roots it probably isn’t too much of a surprise that it sounds that way. It’s a washed-out alt-rock song offering very little to grab a hold of. No identifiable riffs with a hook, whining vocals and a squalling solo that doesn’t improve the song in any way. “Bonehead” finds a far better tempo, faster throughout and Snake’s solo is back to its best here, more in keeping of the band’s history that its present place in time. The opportunity does seem there for Seb to really unload on his vocals here and really give the song a kick, but he chooses not to. The pace of that song seems more natural for the band, which is surprising given the immediate fallback position of slow mid tempo for “Beat Yourself Blind”, where Seb does actually employ some of those high scream vocals he can provide but in a seemingly less helpful or enjoyable way. Definitely could have been utilised in the previous song and improved both songs.
“Eileen” channels the alt-rock grunge dreary vocal-pulling over a flavourless guitar melody backed by Affuso’s wilting drum beat. This is as difficult a song to listen to as there is on this album. It is completely and utterly anchored to this era of music and not in a good way. Five and a half minutes of Seb’s agonising vocals over an unenjoyable music base. If you had put a little more oomph in the guitar riff, you might almost have heard similarities to Bob Rock’s next album, Metallica’s “Load”. As it fades off to die somewhere in extreme agony, the album moves into “Remains to be Seen” where the same vocal technique is being used again, an agonising stretching out along the plane of the track. And then, somewhere about halfway into the track, the guitars kick in and give us a half decent solo section that helps to raise the profile of the song, which gives it a better conclusion than its beginning.
BUT THEN FINALLY! The band rediscovers its mojo. Not lyrically particularly, but at least musically we have a bit of a rise in tempo, and bit more power in the music, and Bach is almost singing normally rather than whining through the track. The title track “Subhuman Race” mightn’t be classic Skid Row but in the context of this album this is almost genius level music.
How much more can be said about this album at this point of the episode? Trying to find any positive aspects about “Subhuman Race” has been problematic for all of the thirty years since its release, and that isn’t proving to be any easier here. “Frozen” wants to be a Soundgarden song with the opening riff mimicking any number of their songs. Overall, the song sounds great, but it is the vague similarities across the songs here that are looking to replicate the era’s sound that can be a little difficult to come to terms with. Also, write more lyrics and don’t just repeat the same lines over and over again! “Into Another” suddenly reverts back to clear guitars and clean harmony vocals to express its lyrics in the most appealing way to attract that section of the audience that enjoy heartfelt songs such as this. “I Remember You” this isn’t, but it sounds like it wants to be 1995’s version of it. “Face Against My Soul” comes across as one of the heaviest tracks on the album, driven by Affuso’s frenetic drumbeat and again far better guitar solos to feast on, while Bach’s vocals are at their least annoying, at least until the last minute of the song when he ramps that up in overdrive. And “Medicine Jar” sits in the same areas musically which gives the album a little run of reasonable material.
“Breakin’ Down” acts as not the power ballad here as such, but the alt-metal ballad. It has all of the usual hallmarks that the power metal ballad has, but in an alternative music fashion. Bach’s soaring vocal range is more muted than would have been the case in a previous era, the guitar solo is less flowery and whiney while still leaving you in no doubt as to the style of the song, and it just brings no emotion except a touch of boredom to the table for the listener. Then comes the album closer, “Iron Will”. This is co-written by all members of the band except for Bach, and depending on how you want to read them, it could almost be about the dissention that surrounded the group at the time, Bach against the band. It most definitely isn’t, by the way, but as the last song the band did together with these five in the band, it could easily have been their epitaph.

It’s amazing how many metal bands released albums in or around the years 1990 and 1991 to high acclaim and praise, and then didn’t release another until 1994 or 1995 with an almost completely revamped sound that met wide panning and criticism. That period killed a lot of bands and changed others forever. Most of you listening to this podcast would have examples of your own. For me, Skid Row is at the top of that list. In 1992 they looked like a band that only had a future that was blazing bright and true, to carry the torch that came from those first two albums into their next and following albums on a never-ending rise. How wrong some thoughts can be.
While there can never be just one person to blame for such a fall from grace or a change in musical direction, to me one of the people heavily involved is producer Bob Rock. This is not a direct criticism of his work and his abilities, there are far too many great albums out there that have his name attached to them to do that. But in this era of 1994 to 1996, Rock was the producer of albums such as Motley Crue’s self-titled album with John Corabi on vocals, The Cult’s self-titled album, Metallica’s “Load” and then “Reload”, and of course this album. What do they have in common? An almost 270 degrees turn in genre and style of the music written and recorded on the album. And I’m sure there are people out there that will back themselves and say that they LOVE those albums. That’s a personal choice, one which I choose to simply smile sadly and knowingly at, and move on. My point here is simply that Rock was at the helm of albums by four bands who had had mega stardom in 1990, and then saw a career change in their very next album, of which he was producer. Coincidence? You be the judge.
The band themselves probably tell the real story. In an interview in 2004, Rachel Bolan said "That record was a nightmare. Internally the band had fallen apart but we were forced to go in and do another record and it was a nightmare with the recording, writing and producing. We worked with someone we had not worked with before after being so successful with Michael and we were used to the way he did things. I am not slighting Bob at all, he is a genius producer but it was bad timing. I did not have the greatest time, it was nobody's fault, it was just the way things were. Also the record absolutely sucks." Seb Bach even went as far as to call “Subhuman Race” Skid Row’s “St Anger”. That is a damning assessment indeed. Since the tour to promote the album, Skid Row, in their many forms, have never played any songs live again from this album, while Bach in his solo tours has occasionally brought one or two out for memory sake.
I bought this album soon after its release, one of few that I did purchase in the black hole year of 1995. And it didn’t help my mood in any shape or form. I was excited. I love those first two albums, and adored the EP as well. At a time when I was looking for something amazing to grab a hold onto, this is what I thought would be that life preserver. And I got shit. Absolute abomination rubbish. I hated every part of this album when I listened to it. Where was LITERALLY EVERYTHING that I loved about the “Slave to the Grind” album?! None of it appears here, not a single skerrick. I could not believe this was the same band that had released that album. This was generic boring crap, like someone had decided to take the ‘most popular’ parts of every big selling album from the past two years, and then tried to write an album out of it. This is like a rubbish AI version of a grunge slash alt-rock album of the era, and it fails on every level. I remember being so disappointed, so angry, that this is what they had produced. And it very quickly found itself on the CD shelves with almost no possibility of parole.
Flash forward thirty freaking years, and here I am again, putting myself through the torture of listening to this album. I have had the displeasure of doing this since those fateful days explained here. I reviewed this for my blog about ten years ago, and was convinced at one point about 15 years ago that I should give this another go because an acquaintance couldn’t believe I didn’t like the album. They were proven wrong at that time too. So I have done my due diligence here people. I have now listened to this album eight times over the last four days, mostly through gritted teeth. And no matter how many times I listen to it, I just cannot take anything positive out of it. It is a travesty of music, and a massive down point in the band’s career. And seriously – I can’t be wrong, because even the BAND THEMSELVES can’t listen to the album! That to me is final nail in the coffin.
While the writing appeared to be on the wall while this album was in the process of being created, Skid Row finally parted with lead singer Sebastian Bach at the end of 1996, reputedly after Bach had organised the band to support Kiss on their Makeup Reunion tour, which the rest of the band then cancelled because they felt they were too big to support any band. Bach left an expletive ridden message on Dave Sabo’s answering machine suggesting the opposite, and he was fired soon afterwards. While this was obviously the final straw for the band and their lead singer, and something that had been building for some time, it is ridiculous to note that in 1999, On Kiss’s ‘first’ Final World Tour, they were supported by... yep, you guessed it... Skid Row. Since then, while both Skid Row and Seb Bach have worked consistently, neither has gotten close to the success they had together prior to this album being released. In the long run, that is perhaps the saddest indictment on “Subhuman Race” than anything else I may have mentioned here.

1070. Motörhead / Sacrifice. 1995. 3/5

Being an old school hard rock or metal band in the 1990’s became a hard and tough slog, what with the onset of grunge and by extension groove metal and nu-metal. Few of the well-established bands of this genre went through this decade without some sort of change to their own musical direction as a result of what was happening in this regard. Some succeeded despite it, others found it was probably a mistake to follow it. Sacrifice always felt like an attempt to experiment in this fashion, and is either a success or not depending on your own tastes to the revolution.

There seems to be a genuine attempt to move ahead with a ‘modern’ sound on this album, which I guess I can appreciate the reasoning of. The problem I have is that on Bastards they were fighting the grunge movement, and did so by moving back towards the sound that made them the band they are. It didn't sell overly well when it was released, and perhaps this also contributed to deciding to go with an updated sound. For me though a lot of it falls flat here because of that. I didn't - and don't - want to hear Motörhead doing groove metal. I want to hear Motörhead doing Motörhead, which for the most part this album isn't.
The opening salvo of “Sacrifice” and “Sex & Death” starts the album off on a reasonable setting, though even from this early stage you are aware of the changes that have crept it. It is the next three songs where big changes are afoot. “Over Your Shoulder” and “War for War” both share the same guitar distortion sound, but more than that it doesn’t change throughout the song. The grunge feel on “Over Your Shoulder” is incorporated into “War for War” which then brings a groove metal feel with it. Such then is the plight of “Order / Fade to Black” where apart from taking on the 1990’s fascination of slow and grunge-ridden guitar riffs also mixes in pieces of the song where they speed it up to a more likely Motörhead speed, but such is the constant change through the song that it is hard to like.
“Dog Faced Boy” is a better song on the album at a good speed and utilising a better effect on the guitars and song. “All Gone to Hell” also makes me feel better about what is coming out of the speakers. “Make ‘Em Blind” and “Don’t Waste Your Time” try to be more like the late 80’s band we know, especially the latter song that utilises rockabilly guitar and piano all thrown into the mix to bring the rock sound back to what Lemmy enjoys best.
“In Another Time” returns to the guitar sound of the earlier tracks, while “Out of the Sun” finishes the album in style with the Phil Campbell solos on this song the most Motörhead solos on the whole album. It actually reminds you that this IS a Motörhead album and not a 90’s knockoff. All of the tracks are short, sharp, belligerent songs, which means that you don’t dwell too much on the fallibility of much of the album which perhaps is for the best.

Apart from the noted trouble the band had with guitarist Wurzel on this album, such that this ended up being the last album he was a part of, this was a comedown for me after the repaired excellence of Bastards. Comparing that to this for me is a chalk and cheese moment. There are moment here that feel worthy of being a part of the extended legacy that the band has made for itself, but there are too many moments where I am left wondering where they saw themselves going at this part of their career. Better was to come once they had rediscovered their roots.

Rating: “And all our yesterdays are now undone, out of the sun”  3/5

818. Yngwie Malmsteen / Magnum Opus. 1995. 2.5/5

I've had my ups and downs with Yngwie Malmsteen albums. The great stuff has been ingrained in me for years, and never ceases to amaze me even when I put them on today. The ordinary stuff came along hard and fast once the 1980's had left us, surprising in its sudden drop in quality and likeability, and began to repeat itself over time. So when it came time to revisit the albums from the 1990's that I virtually ignored through that time period, it was with mixed feelings as I approached. I wasn't sure if I had been burned too many times for a recovery to be made.

As with other recent releases just prior to Magnum Opus this is a very commercial sounding release. There is no doubting the quality of Yngwie's guitaring though, it is spectacular throughout. In fact, in many places it is the equal of anything he had produced up until this time. The problem lies in the fact that there is a "song" being composed around it, and the magical guitar pieces are often not enough lift this beyond the average. Michael Vescera, formerly of Loudness and many other projects, once again lends his vocals to this album, and the format and style push the majority of these songs towards a radio friendly market, though the amount of radio play the album received is probably negligible. There's no doubting the quality of his voice, but it really is a commercial rock kinda voice, and when the chorus of background singers come into it, and the keyboards flatten out any influence of Yngwie's guitar, it comes across as really average soft rock stuff.
Unfortunately the majority of the songs here seem to be structured that way. Yngwie's solo's in the middle of the songs that require vocals are great. Also the places where a tough sounding start comes in, such as with "Vengeance" the opening track. When it wants to be a bit harder and a bit faster, it sounds great. But when the sensibilities change - sometime in the middle of a song - it just sounds wrong. You get a really wussy rock song that sounds like it is sugar and treacle coated, and then try to inject tat Malmsteen solo into the middle, and it just doesn't work and can't save what is already a bad mix. And it is a real shame, because some of the stuff here, like "Vengeance" and "Voodoo" are really good songs. Even the very Eclipse-era sounding "No Love Lost" sounds OK here. But they are dragged down by songs such as "The Only One" and "I'd Die Without You" and "Cross the Line" that can't cut the mustard.

When comparing the songs that Yngwie's band released during this decade with those that they released in the 1980's or the 2000's, there is a massive difference in the style they propagated. Is the vocalists who made the difference? Or was it just that Yngwie tried to move with the times to create more of a showcase for his songs? I really don't know the answer, because this is another of the string of albums that for the most part don't interest me in the slightest because of their style. There are sequences of guitaring on this album where Yngwie proves he has lost none of his amazing powers. If fact, there would be pieces in every single song on this album where he showcases his genius. It's just that, unfortunately, it can't hold out for the entire song. And thus the album.

Rating:  Slowly but surely we're planting the seed.  2.5/5

810. Queen / Made in Heaven. 1995. 3.5/5

It's a difficult task to not only explain how I feel about this album, but also to give it a rating that is fair for all of the factors taken into consideration in regards to its writing and recording. Posthumously released albums are not unusual or new. Posthumously recorded ones, well that's a different story. Given all of what went into releasing this album, and the significance behind it, I still have mixed feelings over this final album release of Queen's stellar career.

I won't lie to you. When it was announced that this album was being released, containing material recorded before the final demise of lead singer Freddie Mercury, I was excited. What kind of stuff would it contain? What style of music would there be? How much did Freddie contribute to it? There is little doubt that I expected too much. Having loved almost everything of the previous four albums as I grew up in the 1980's, I guess I was expecting it to be a lot like them. That was never likely to be the case, but hopes ran high.
I bought this on the day it was released, and returned to the home I was sharing with two of my best mates at the time, and we all listened to it that night, the stereo booming out into the lounge room with the lights out, me lying on the floor in contemplation. Then we listened to it again. From the next day though... well... it probably didn't get quite the reception that I had envisaged. It wasn't until I actually had the album in my hands that I was aware of the way that it had been... constructed. Only three of the songs were close to fully realised in this time, those being Mercury's "A Winter's Tale", Mercury and May's "Mother Love" and what would become "You Don't Fool Me". All three are good songs in an atypical Queen way. Brian sings the final verse in "Mother Love" as Freddie was never able to return to the studio to finish recording the vocals, while "You Don't Fool Me" is actually snatches of vocals sung by Freddie in his final days in the studio, and then cut and pasted and arranged into a song. Amazing.
Other songs here are original versions of the vocals recorded of songs on other albums, with the music re-recorded and "Queenified" to make it feel authentic. Two of those songs, "Made in Heaven" and "I Was Born to Love You" came from Freddie's solo album, Mr. Bad Guy, "Let Me Live" was recorded during the sessions for The Works album, "Heaven For Everyone" came from Roger Taylor's band The Cross album Shove It, and "Too Much Love Will Kill You" had originally been planned as a Queen song that Freddie had sung on, but was eventually first released by Brian May on his solo album Back to the Light. "My Life Has Been Saved" was originally a B-side to the single for "Scandal" from The Miracle. In all of these songs, the band and producer David Richards have done a magnificent job. They sound terrific, and in throwing in bits and pieces from the past into the mix, it brings the album together as a fitting tribute to the spirit of Freddie Mercury.
Still, given that there were essentially very few songs that had been completed by the time of Freddie's death, was this a necessary release? What the band has done in re-invigorating some other tracks with Freddie's vocals by recording updated music to them, or pasting and cutting vocals and grafting them to music, was any of this a necessary device, if only to have these final recordings of Freddie released as a full album? Could it have been done in a different fashion? Whatever the case, Freddie went through a lot in order to do these final recordings, and he obviously wanted them to find their way into our hands, so we can't be too hard on the effort that was made to do so.
My opinion has changed over the years in regards to this. From my initial excitement, I began to feel that this would have been better left alone, and let the magnificent Innuendo be the final crowning moment of the band and its wonderful lead vocalist. In recent times though, I have come to appreciate this release much more, and enjoy it more and more as I listen to it. I love knowing the ins and outs of how this was recorded, and hearing the different versions of those songs that had been recorded before. More than anything else, I love hearing the band together, and Freddie's voice resonating from the speakers with the love and joy he had for his music.

This will never be considered a classic album. It can't, and the circumstances around its recording is the major reason behind that. But if you take everything in your stride, and concentrate on the brilliance of all four members of the band at work, then like me you will be able to draw enough out of this album to still raise a smile.

Rating:  You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul, but here it comes again.  3.5/5