1349. Halford / Live Insurrection. 2001. 4/5

For a decade, Rob Halford had fought to keep himself relevant in a world that continued to find ways to reinvent itself through the music of the 1990’s decade. Having moved on from Judas Priest when the band was at arguably its highest peak, and all through confusion and misinformation, Halford had meddled with different styles and formats in his own musical direction. As the music of the decade began its formative and chameleonic morphing, so too Rob made his way through projects such as Fight and 2wo, a journey that saw him go through some of his own personal challenges along the way. Eventually he arrived at the dawn of the new century, and with the help of another group of musicians, including the influential Roy Z, he produced an album that brought him back to the fanbase that he had curated from his Judas Priest days with “Resurrection”, an album which you can hear all about on episode 104 of this podcast. It was the album that truly brought him back to international recognition and saw his profile back on the rise once again.
To promote the album, Halford and his band went out on the road on a tour that included Queensryche, both in support to Iron Maiden, who were touring on their reformed line up that included Bruce Dickinson and Adrian Smith on the back of their comeback’ album “Brave New World”. It was a big stage to be a part of, a tour that saw huge numbers flocking to see the return of Iron Maiden, but also the return of Halford. No doubt to continue riding this wave into the shore, the decision was made to record some shows and release them as a live album. As it turned out, they did far more than that. They ended up producing a double album that showcased the majority of the band’s new album, some of Fight’s best material, some great Judas Priest classics and some new studio material that included some old Priest that had never been released. It was an ambitious release, one that befit the newly reinstalled position that Rob Halford found himself in. Was it also firing a shot across the bow of his previous band, who at the time was struggling to stay relevant? Maybe yes, maybe no. All we did know at the time was that, for those of us who did not get to see the tour live, this was our chance to see if Halford could still pull off his material live like he did in the studio. And that was one of the winning factors that came our way with the release of “Live Insurrection”.

Those of you who are familiar with the Judas Priest live album “Unleashed in the East” will be aware that it has had many question marks about it over the years, involving just how much of the album is from an actual live performance and how much was re-edited and re-recorded in the studio. As an album it doesn’t affect just how amazing and influential it has been, but the fact that it is not all completely lifted from a live performance of the band does tend to annoy certain parts of the fandom. And I get that. There is cause to confront similar accusations for part of this live album as well. In particular it can be referred to the track “The One You Love to Hate”, the song on the album “Resurrection” that had Iron Maiden’s newly instituted lead singer Bruce Dickinson as dual lead vocals. The live version that appears on this album is a hybrid, it combines the live version of the song as played by Halford live on a night in London with the soundchecks of both Rob and Bruce earlier in the evening. Sure, it sounds great, but it isn’t organic it is a meshing of two or three different moments, and it makes you wonder – was it necessary? Couldn’t we just have had the version that Rob sang each night WITHOUT Bruce? That is the reality, that’s what we want from a live album. If Bruce had gotten on stage with him to sing it one night – which he did, there are bootlegs out there of him and Geoff Tate doing it – and they’d recorded it, then okay. But I think as fans we would all have been just as happy having Rob sing it himself.
Then there comes four other tracks, all of which are for all intents and purposes studio tracks that have had live crowd sounds added to them to make them sound as if they are being performed live on stage. “Light Comes Out of Black” was a song that was from the ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ movie soundtrack in 1992, on which the music was played by Pantera and had Halford as guest vocalist. “Life in Black” is a song from Rob’s Fight days from the “War of Words” album, and “Hell’s Last Survivor” and “Sad Wings” are the Japanese bonus tracks from the “Resurrection” album. None of these four songs are listed on any set lists from this tour. Indeed, only “Light Comes Out of Black” is listed as ever having been played live by Halford, on the “Crucible” tour in Anaheim on two nights. But that’s it. So again, we are left with the question, why? Why add these songs to this album in this way? Because there are three songs at the end of the double live album which are simply studio tracks, in the same way Kiss did with “Alive II”. “Screaming in the Dark” is a leftover Halford song, while both “Prisoner of Your Eyes” and “Heart of a Lion” are leftover Judas Priest tracks. Are they all good songs? Sure! Do they sound great? Yes! But why put them on this album in this way. Was it necessary to have a double live album? Could it not just have been a single album? Or a live album and a studio bonus? It is all a bit of a mystery.
But hey, let’s try and get out of the negative here and talk about what is great about this live album. Because, overall, it sounds fabulous. And the remainder of the songs come from the variety that was available at that time. Seven of the songs come from the debut album, and all sound wonderful. The opening of “Resurrection” and “Made in Hell” hits just as hard as it does on that album. “Slow Down” is given a great powerful live blast, with Halford adjusting his vocals as necessary to do it justice without blowing out his voice. I have already mentioned “The One You Love to Hate” (which sounds great despite my problems with its addition), while “Saviour” rallies the battle cry that it deserves, and “Silent Screams” offers its wonderful mix of slow moody into metal anthem perfectly in the live setting. “Cyberworld” opens the second disc in scintillating fashion to conclude the new tracks showcased here.
Rob then rejuvenates the very best of his Fight project with three awesome tracks that light up the album – the brilliant “Into the Pit”, “Nailed to the Gun” and the aforementioned “Life in Black”. Then we have the classic Judas Priest songs that Halford and his band have chosen to scatter amongst their set list, and it's a who’s-who of greatness. Let’s tick them off - “Stained Class”, “Jawbreaker”, “Running Wild”, “The Hellion-Electric Eye”, “Riding on the Wind”, “Genocide”, “Beyond the Realms of Death”, “Metal Gods”, “Breaking the Law” and “Tyrant”. Far out, that’s a concert in itself! And Rob and the band perform them with the glory they deserve, and perhaps just another little nudge to his former band to suggest that maybe there was still life in the old dog just yet.

Following Rob Halford after his split with Judas Priest was a given really, probably even more so because Priest themselves didn’t really get going again for seven years after the “Painkiller” album, whereas Rob was out there with Fight and even toured Australia a couple of times with them. When he too climbed aboard the Roy Z bandwagon and released his album with the Halford band, it was a revelation. And something that was welcome. The hope was that he would tour Australia but that was probably wishful thinking all round, but when this live album was released, it was a reasonable substitute.
I realise I have gone down a bit of a rabbit hole with this review, but to me they were pertinent points to bring up. When it comes to this podcast the more information I can offer in an enjoyable way makes for a more interesting episode, which I think this provides. You have the breaking down and hard line review of the album in the preceding sector. And there are parallels between this album and Priest’s live albums of their past. However, much like those Priest live albums, I adore this album. What I know to be real and what I know to be doctored merges for me in a listening experience that continues to bring me nothing but joy. Yeah yeah, those certain songs have their unreality elements about them, but when I just sit down and put this album on my stereo, everything about it sounds wonderfully awesome. And I come back to something that is becoming a more regular response on episodes about albums like this. That no matter what the circumstances, if an album brings you joy, then it doesn’t matter if it has been altered, even slightly. And in this respect, I am not including the recent trend of AI inspired or produced albums, because they aren’t ‘real’, they are based on nothing but computers playing god. Some of the tracks here may not be live as such, with the crowd added in to give it the same atmosphere as the other songs, but the album to sit down and listen to is brilliant. Musicians played their instruments to create this album, even if editing may have enhanced them.
It was an interesting time in metal. Bruce and Adrian had returned to Iron Maiden, and the band was back on top of the world. Many felt at the time, with the success Rob was having, that it was only a matter of time before Judas Priest pulled a similar trick. The fact that it took so much longer to come after 2001 allowed us to have one further chapter in the album trade off between Priest and Halford, the success (or lack thereof) for both perhaps finally bringing the scales back in order. But that is a story for another episode.

1343. Thin Lizzy / Jailbreak. 1976. 4/5

At times when you look back on the history of Thin Lizzy, it is hard to believe that they initially came together in the very latter stages of 1969, with the first announcement of a band by this name coming in February 1970. The main trio of bass and lead vocals from Phil Lynott, guitar from Eric Bell and drums from Brian Downey had stuck together until 1974, at which point Bell left citing ‘ill health caused by the band’s lifestyle’. Now there is a metaphor I would like to have used sometime in the past. After a brief flirtation (again) with Gary Moore as his replacement, Lynott and Downey recruited two guitarists to join the band, Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson. This quartet became the ebst known and arguably most successful line up of the band, storming through the mid-to-late 1970’s with a vigour that revitalised the band. They released their first album together “Nightlife” in 1974, and a follow up “Fighting” in 1975. While “Nightlife” was an album where the new formation was still coming to terms with what they were supposed to do when it came to writing and performing with two guitarists, “Fighting” saw this come together is a much better package, with the composing and performance of the songs on that album feeling more comfortable and intuitive. And yet, despite this, the critics were not favourable to either album. More importantly to their record label, the albums didn’t sell either, and Vertigo Records more or less gave the band an ultimatum as they moved into the final month of 1975 – give us an album that will sell, and be popular with the masses, or your contract won’t be renewed. Tough times at the Thin Lizzy ranch, one would suspect.
With Lynott leading the writing, being involved as a composer on every track of the album, there was more input coming from the other three members of the band, each being a co-composer on one track each with Lynott, and the closing track “Emerald” being credited to all four members. It offered a more rounded feeling to the album as a result. Though, even here, not everyone was happy in retrospect. Though Lynott was happy with the choice of John Alcock as producer for the album, both Gorham and Robertson ended up being less than impressed. Both felt that the speed that the album was completed at adversely affected its quality, and that they were unable to explore their own styles on their guitar parts due to the rigidity of the recording process, and that neither was overly happy with their guitar sounds on the finished product.
Despite this, the band moved forward and released the album and single that are arguably the ones that Thin Lizzy is most remembered for, the hard rocking moments of “Jailbreak”.

Aside from the album’s two big hits, the ones that open each side of the album, there is a lot to like about the songs on “Jailbreak”. It offers a diverse range of style of songs that all add to the flavour of the opus, offering each member of the band the opportunity to showcase their wares (though obviously Gorham and Robertson don’t necessarily agree with that). “Angel from the Coast”, which follows the opening title track, is Brian Robertson’s co-write on the album, and it does incorporate the driving guitar riff as the main attraction which is masterfully filled with the deep bass sound to mirror it, giving the song the musical depth it needs. It is a brisk and breezy track dictated through the verses, and the combination of guitars in the middle of the track from Gorham and Robertson is fantastic. It flows along in a constant motion that follows up the opening excellently. This is followed by “Running Back”, with added keys and a very soul filled melody that gives it a unique sound on the album. Robertson was particularly infuriated by what was done with this track, where Lynott and Alcock brought in session musician Tim Hinkley to add more commercial elements to some tracks to produce a hit single. Those elements are very highly noticeable on this track. The original version of the song was in a blues format, with his own additions on guitar and piano, but they were scrubbed. Robertson later said that he was offended at the changes, and quoted: “I couldn't understand why they'd pay this guy a fortune just for playing what he did. Listen to it and tell me it's not bollocks.”. He refused to play on the completed version of the song, and while Lynott himself really liked the song, suggesting it was influenced by Van Morrison, Hinkley was later quoted as saying: “Robbo and Scott were not keen on it at all, but they were overruled”. Initially considered as the possible first single to be released off the album, saner heads prevailed. It does appear out of place here.
“Romeo and the Lonely Girl” follows with a similar composition though devoid of the additional features. It moves in its melodic form, again motivated by the fast strumming clear based guitar riff through the tempo of the song, that meld into twin guitar harmonies through the middle of the track. Downey’s drumming on this track is deceptively superb, often going unnoticed but easily tracks the fast paced rhythm required without taking away from the other three members and their pieces. This was apparently another song considered for single release, though Gorham was quoted afterwards as saying “nobody was overexcited about it”, perhaps due to the feeling that it does feel as though it overstays its welcome, a tricky thing for a song that is under four minutes in length.
The closing track on Side A is “Warriors”, the song co-written by the other guitarist in Scott Gorham. The difference in style comes through immediately. This SOUNDS like a guitar players song. A harder guitar riff (slightly reminiscent it must be said of ‘Massacre’) and tougher vocal from Lynott combine to get the head and feet moving again. Downey’s drumming picks up again; his kit being hit harder and driving the song forward. He leads the rhythm with Lynott to plant the base of the song early on, and leaves Gorham and Robertson to charge through with rhythm riff and duelled solos that bring the back half of the song to life, along with Downey’s superb drum rolls to complement it all. It’s a great way to close out the first half of the album, the bookended tracks here doing their job.
After the opening monster of the B side, we have “Fight or Fall”, a song that breaks that momentum and drags everything back to the reflective, slow tempo pace, giving Lynott the opportunity to fall back to his dulcet tones that he is wonderfully brilliant at highlighting in his vocals. It pulls on all of its mid-1970's imagery and musical disposition, bring a soul element back to the album that survives here without the addition of other instrumenst as was utilised on the failed single hope of “Running Back”. “Cowboy Song”, with help from Brian Downey as co-composer, does offer similar features to “Romeo” from Side A of the album, even to the point that the lyric here of “Roll me over” almost sounds like Lynott is again saying “Oh sweet Romeo” from that track. Here though, both Scott and Robbo are giving their head when it comes to their solo spots and harmony between them as well. It lifts this song above the average, and really showcases that when this foursome come together in a real hard rock scenario, utilising their talents to create the true hard rock tones of songs, that they are one of the best examples of this from this time period. The album then closes with “Emerald”, a great hard rock infusing of their Irish Celtic rock tones and the best of their hard rock entreaties. The verses and the music underneath them are some of the best of the album, with driving riffs and drum beat throughout. This song actually highlights everything great about this band, and certainly this line up of the band. As the closing number, it does complete the deliberation that this foursome, by the completion of their third album together, has unlocked what makes them Thin Lizzy, and what draws the best out of themselves and as a band.
There is, of course, the little matter of discussing the band’s two biggest and well known tracks, and having left this until the end of this review perhaps makes it seem that I am doing so deliberately so that I can fawn over their greatness and brilliance. But in truth, it was to be able to highlight the rest of the album, rather than make them the major part of this album review. Because you all KNOW “Jailbreak” and “The Boys Are Back in Town”. I shouldn’t HAVE to tell you all about them, and their place in the Thin Lizzy pantheon. Rather than rave about them, I wanted to show that this album isn’t just about those two tracks, there is more hear to discover.
And if you DON’T know those two songs... what the hell have you been doing with your life?

Thin Lizzy came to me, inevitably, through the song that propelled this album’s sales and became the band’s most recognisable song. Years of hearing it turn up on radio stations all over, whether they be the local Wollongong pop-based stations or Sydney rock-based stations, brought me a love of the track. Furthering my eventual desire to track down the band came from my exposure to Gary Moore, as his friendship and camaraderie with Phil Lynott brought us the tracks “Parisienne Walkways” and “Out in the Fields”. There were other tendrils that came to me that drew me to the band itself, but these were my strongest lures. Despite this, the closest I got to buying or hearing a Thin Lizzy studio album came from my purchase of the “Lizzy Killers” CD in 1991, which was a greatest hits compilation. It wasn’t until 2000, while watching a comedy movie that had nothing to do with Thin Lizzy, that I was finally motivated to move to getting this particular album. It was “Detroit Rock City”, a movie that talks about four kids trying to get o see a Kiss concert that night. It’s a fun film if you haven’t already seen it. But what tipped me to this album was the insertion of the song “Jailbreak” into a scene from the movie, and I thought to myself ‘wow, I’d forgotten how good that song is! I really should track it down!’ And, as it turns out, “Jailbreak” also had the one song everyone knows from the band on it, so that was a noteworthy element of finally finding the album.
OK. No doubt you have already guessed that not all of the album is awesome for me. I could pretty much side with Scott and Robbo on thoughts in regard to parts of the album. “Running Back” doesn’t work for me at all. “Fight or Fall” doesn’t work for me either. Those tracks are so far away from the rest of the album in particular, but also my own enjoyment of music, that it makes it a difficult sell. As it turns out, this is a typical thought process when it comes to almost every Thin Lizzy album for me. There are pretty much always two songs that don’t work for me on a song-by-song basis. And that does not stop me from listening to the album from pillar to post, but it becomes more obvious in this setting. On “jailbreak” in this instance, for this review, by going through track by track and describing the songs and my loves – or not - of them, these differences in opinion will come to the surface. And I say that especially here. Because I have had this album out again this week, playing it well over a dozen times, and I have enjoyed it as much as I always have. Those two songs that I mentioned as being ‘less good’ here do come up and are noticed, but as a part of the album as a whole as I am listening to it, they blend in and don’t raise any problems for me. Only when turning on the blowtorch to crack open each track individually do you get the responses I have offered.
So yes. I still love this album. I love this line up of the band. The guitars of Gorham and Robertson here are superb, they fit together so nicely. Downey’s drumming is fabulous again. And the smooth amazing vocals of Phil Lynott along with his incredible sounding bass guitaring tops off the whole experience. Is it their best album? Honestly, I don’t think it matters if you believe it is or not. There are several that could fight for that award. What matters is that, for me at least, this is where the band found their magic, and brought together a number of tracks that must be considered as their very best. Led by this one.

1342. Split Enz / Corroboree. 1981. 4/5

It would have literally been impossible to grow up in Australia and New Zealand in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s and not know who Split Enz was or know the tracks that were plastered all over the radio. It had been a slow burn in regards to the band’s popularity, building through several line up changes and eventually to the band’s fourth album in 1979 titled “Frenzy”, one that saw the band begin to move away from the band's early progressive/art rock style, towards high-energy, guitar-based power pop that they became known for, especially on the back of the single “I See Red”. This led into their next album “True Colours”, released in January of 1980. It was here that Neil Finn, younger brother of band found Tim Finn, who had come into the band in 1977, began to become more creatively involved in the writing for the album, contributing three songs including the hit single from the album “I Got You”. This, along with tracks such as “Shark Attack”, “I Hope I Never”, “Missing Person” and “Poor Boy”, brought the band’s biggest success to that point in time, with the album reaching number one on both the New Zealand and Australian charts, 38 in the UK and 40 in the US.
Looking to follow up on this success, the band began to collaborate on songs for their next album. Though Tim Finn was still the band’s major writer, penning five of the ten tracks on the new album, Neil again contributed four and keyboardist Eddie Rayner the two instrumental tracks of the album. It helped to give the album a more rounded sound and one where all of the best elements of the band were utilised.
The band’s original concept for the title of the album was give it a native name for each country it was released. Called “Waiata” in New Zealand, which a Maori term for song and singing, their idea was to have the album in each country of its release relate to a native name of that country that corresponded to song and singing. For what we can only assume are obvious reasons, the record label did not go through with this idea, and the name was retained as the title for all countries – except one, where in Australia it was named after the first nations people’s word for song and singing, that word being “Corroboree”.

The album moves off on a sure footing with Tim’s “Hard Act to Follow”, a brisk and punchy song with Tim’s vocal driving the song onwards and upwards. The bass line and keys provide the major basis of the track giving it a softer tone as a result with the guitar sitting in the background. Lyrically the song can be read in general terms though it certainly feels as though the subject may have come up when it came to trying to create an album that would be the equal of their previous effort “True Colours” which had performed so well. This is followed by Neil’s first composition on the album, “One Step Ahead”, the first single released from the album and also the song that proved the band had nothing to worry about when it came to following their previous album. Neil’s sweeter vocal fits beautifully in the softer music he composed for the song. The bittersweet melody and the emotional hesitation of the lyrics create what has become one of the band’s best known and most beloved tracks. And then the album moves into “I Don’t Wanna Dance”, a song that again picks up the pace to move out of that style, and Tim’s in his head-wobbling lyrical kind of frenzy that mimics the style of Split Enz song he produces so easily and comfortably. He sings in melancholy about the loss of his girl, and of not wanting or being able to dance without her. You can read deeper here to take more meaning from the song, but musically it offers up a wonderfully emotional aspect while still creating a song that is trying to get you to move around despite itself. This is one of the album’s best songs and one of the bands most underrated gems. The opening three songs on the album combine together beautifully in every aspect.
“Iris” is another quieter Neil Finn new wave ballad state of affairs, and is followed by “Wail” which is Eddie Raynor’s first instrumental of the album, combining the sounds of the band’s past with a modern new wave polish. The band’s art-rock roots all seem to get a chance to re-establish themselves herein Raynor’s piece, with lots of layered keys combining with a solid bass line and the interjection of guitar. The first side then closes out with Tim’s “Clumsy”, another of his songs that channel the style that made Split Enz stand out from the crowd. Its quirky nature brings back the memories of the band’s best eccentricity. Musically it touches the heights of mania, each instrument pushing tiself beyond the normal to incorporate a touch of zaniness about it, and in doing so creates a sound that is quintessentially Splitz Enz.
“History Never Repeats”, the third of Neil’s songs, opens up the second side of the album, and the brightness and energetic shine of the music and his vocals make this such an easy listen, and
“Walking Through the Ruins” has a touch of The Police about it, in the way it moves from a moody introspection to a faster and more frenzied approach, including the Stewart Coupland like drums from Malcolm Green, the bass line from Nigel Griggs and guitar from Neil Finn. It offsets against the previous track by moving through those different corridors, all motivated by Tim’s vocals that express the undertones of the lyrics. In some ways it might be tied to the era but overall it offers a great impass to the style of the album.
“Ships” is Neil’s final track of the album, one that shares a more melodic sound and offers a swaying motion that mimics the title of the track. The dual vocal of the Finn brothers comes together here beautifully to give the nautically themed song a vision that is matched by the vocals. “Ghost Girl” moves along in an eerie atmosphere, one motioned by wailing guitar set in the background to the keys and synth of Eddie Rayner. Tim’s vocals soar and wail as he rides the waves of the music presented, and produces another song here much like the previous track that does amazingly offer up a musical piece that has you imagining the images that the lyrics are offering. The album then concludes with the second Rayner composed instrumental “Albert of India” that completes another beautifully toned album from the band. The album moves comfortably along in the new wave era that had come with the commencement of the 1980’s decade, with the Finn brothers in particular taking on the movement and infusing it deep into their music on this album. The immediately noticeable tracks are the ones that appear to have been composed for a commercial setting, and they do so without affecting the quality or the output of the remainder of the album.

Growing up in Australia, Split Enz was a band that you would hear on the radio on occasions, depending on if a song had been recently released. More appropriately, they were a band that you saw on the ABCTV music program Countdown on a Sunday night, dressed up and regaled in their outstandingly garish outfits and make up, jumping around the stage and miming with intense energy and fun whatever song they were currently promoting. And that’s who they were, a fun and energetic band whose performances and songs were infectious. And in Australia and their native New Zealand, they were as popular as any other band going around.
I had copies of this album and “True Colours” and at least one other that I can’t remember now through the mists of time, and once the band broke up and the plethora of greatest hits albums came out, I definitely had that. Still do, as it turns out. The albums didn’t always all agree with me, but I still enjoyed them.
In recent times I have made an effort to try and restock my Split Enz collection on vinyl when I attend the various record fairs that now pop up around the place. This album was one of those, about a year ago, and when I first listeneed to it again I was mesmerised. There is so much on this album that identifies with the era of music when it was released. The new wave scene of our part of the world still drew on the same influences as the UK and US, and some of those sounds are definitely still here. In particular, as I mentioned here, The Police and their sound is certainly prevalent in places. But more than anything else, it is the Split Enz sound that still comes though in many places that pricked up my ears. It isn’t there on every song. Indeed, it mostly comes from the Tim Finn composed and sung songs than those of Neil Finn. Neil is already at this point in time showcasing his own style, one that he would fully develop in the band he formed after the conclusion of this band. But the combination of the two is what gives this album a terrific sound, melding between one Finn to the other, and able to do so without compromising the sound and style of the band or this album.
Over many listens again this week, I still find everything I love about this band covered here. The upbeat and positive fun tones that often cover the underlying mood of the lyrics. And then vice versa, the moodiness of the music that belies the positive lyrics. They were an incredible band, the New Zealand band (one of many really) that Australians called their own. This still stands as one of their finest albums in a loaded catalogue. And 45 years on it still has that freshness and vitality that make it worth listening to still.

1340. Alice Cooper Band / Love It to Death. 1971. 4/5

If you were to sit down and listen to the first two albums by the Alice Cooper Band, you would be hard pressed to believe that they would develop into the successful and popular outfit they became, both as the original band and then by Vincent Furnier as the solo artist following this. There is very little on those two albums, “Pretties for You” and “Easy Action”, that resembles the music that they eventually popularised. Those first two albums concentrated on a 1960’s psychedelic freak-rock aesthetic that involves long jam sessions in the recording studio, recorded live and brought to life in that arena. The band itself was finding its audience mainly through its outrageous stage shows and performances, something that created word of mouth and brought the crowds in. Those first two albums were by the record label owned by Frank Zappa, Straight Records, which he then sold to Warner Bros in 1970 for $50,000. It meant that Alice Cooper was now a part of Warner Bros, but only if Warner Bros wanted to keep them.
Manager Shep Gordon approached highly sought after producer Jack Richardson to produce the band’s next album, but he was uninterested in doing so, and so he sent his young protégé to do the job instead. This young producer also had little interest in producing the band, but changed his mind when he saw them perform live in October of 1970. He was impressed with the band’s rock-theatre of their gig, as well as the audience adulation they received. He went back to Richardson to convince him that he should produce this band, which Richardson only agreed to do if his protege worked directly with the band and he would oversee from afar. This led to one of the most enduring partnerships in music history coming together, that of Alice Cooper and producer Bob Ezrin. Band and producer came together and produced the single “I’m Eighteen” with the B-side “Is It My Body” which was released in November of 1970. Warner Bros had agreed that the band could proceed with an album if single sold well. On the back of this, the band and others went on a quest, posing as fans to ring radio stations everywhere and request the song be played. The result was that the song began to find traction, and eventually peaked on the US singles chart at #21, and Warner Bros informed Richardson to go ahead and produce an album.
It was Ezrin who fought with the band to have them come together in a more focused and regimented fashion. The band resisted changing their style, but it was the success of “I’m Eighteen” that helped convince them that he knew what he was talking about. Ezrin had rearranged “I’m Eighteen” from an eight minute jam piece originally titled “I Wish I Was 18 Again” to the three minute single that marked the true starting point of their career. From here, the band worked 10-12 hours a day in rehearsals to produce a collection of tracks that eschewed their past and brought forth the more modern hard rock sound of the songs that comprised the album that was to transform the way the world saw the Alice Cooper Band, with the release of “Love it To Death”

The album opens up with Michael Bruce’s musically upbeat “Caught in a Dream”, a great hard rocking track which trades off guitar licks while incorporating the melody of guitars and vocals that has the album up and running from the start. It begs the question when you first put the album on, where did this come from? It is so completely different from everything that the band produced on those first two psychedelic driven albums. This is a hard rock song, pure and simple, replete with great solo and terrific rhtyhm from the drums and bass guitar. This was released as the second single from the album, and surely had those at the time wondering the same thing. The successful early released single “I’m Eighteen” comes next, positioned nicely on the album to follow up the great tempo of the opening track. Everyone in the world knows this song. It is one of the bands best and most famous songs, and is one of the songs here that brings to the fore Alice out front playing the part of the protagonist within the song, something that proved a winner for the band here and through the future.
“Long Way to Go” once again lifts the tempo with Michael Bruce again at the helm as songwriter. Glen Buxton’s guitar solo in the middle of the track is complemented by Neal Smith’s off the rails drum solo combining to make a point of difference within the song. Dennis Dunaway’s bass line is a powerful melodic factor throughout. The influence on the change on this album from Bruce’s songwriting is significant – as is, I suspect, the influence of Bob Ezrin, in pushing the band to tighten everything they did and not warble on aimlessly and then just throw it on a record. These opening three songs on the album, that showcase how far the band has moved in a short space of time, is perhaps the best argument for Ezrin’s major influence.
"Black Juju" was the only track recorded live in the studio, in the way the band wrote and recorded their first two albums, and as such is the most similar sounding song to those that came on those first albums. Even the sinister organ from Bruce here mirrors those early recordings. At over 9 minutes it is by far the longest track on the album, with only “Ballad of Dwight Fry” also exceeding 3.5 minutes. “Black Juju” probably works here because it is the EXCEPTION rather than the rule.
The second side of the album opens with the B-side from the first single, “Is it My Body?”. Another song where Alice sings as the protagonist, this is such a simply composed song lyrically and musically, but its greatness is driven by the great bass line, the staccato strum of the guitars, and Alice’s emotional expression of his vocals. Buxton’s solo cuts through as well, finishing off the perfect short single. Great mood and energy throughout, and still one of the band’s best.
“Hallowed Be My Name” offers Alice up as the priest listening to the travails of his parishioners, though of course he is not and they are not. The jaunty style of the track gives the lyrics an offbeat character, something that this band has begun to craft to their own style here on this album, the beginning of what was to come. Alice delights in his expression, asking ‘Come all you sinners, come now in your glory, and my ears will listen to your dirty stories, you’re fighting to go up ‘cause you’re on your way down”. Neal Smith offers up a an easy to visualise scene with his lyrics here, so much so that you would thinnk that personal experience may well have been drawn into them. Lyrically this segues into “Second Coming” from Alice himself, a short sharp burst where the consequences of the previous track appear through Alice’s lyrics “I couldn’t tell if the bells were getting louder, The songs they ring I finally recognise, I only know Hell is getting hotter, Devil’s getting smarter all the time”. This is a track where you truly hear exactly what sound and style this band is going to take forward with it over the next few years. It encompasses the entire band, offering great melody, a great marching drum beat from Smith and bass line from Dunaway, while the piano keyboard outro from Bob Ezrin leads straight into the wonderfully brilliant strains of “Ballad of Dwight Fry”. And here again, it is that rhythm of drum and atmospheric bass line that makes this song. It is David Bowie-esque in its moody trance like style and even in Alice’s vocals through the early part of the song. Michael Bruce and Alice have created a song and character here that will be replicated through the ages in other forms. Alice crying insanely ‘I’ve got to get out of here!” through the middle of the track breaks this out of the standard song technique into the character of the protagonist breaking out of the song and becomng alive, away from the constraints of the song itself. This three song arc, of “Hallowed Be My Name”, “Second Coming” and “Ballad of Dwight Fry”, became the template that finally saw this band find their true calling, the music they were supposed to create, to match the stage show that would follow and be the drawcard for the live performances. But musically, for the albums, this is where it began, these three songs, but especially “Ballad of Dwight Fry”.
And then, another segue, and surprisingly – still, even after all of these years – it is “Sun Arise” that it segues into, the final track of the album. It is a cover of a Rolf Harris song, one that the band had apparently been opening their live shows with for a year. This was written by Rolf Harris, a name that sadly was sullied in his final years due to historic cases of sexual abuse, as incorporating and paying tribute to the music of the first nations people of his home country of Australia. And this is a surprisingly faithful version of the original track, and also more upbeat lyrically compared to most of the rest of the album. Indeed, it brings a nice lift to conclude the album, and album that is now seen as far more important and influential that it was on its release 55 years ago.

With so many albums released by the band as well as the artist known as Alice Cooper over the last 56 years, you get to hear me talk about my love of the artist a lot more than you probably do any other band. And though some of those episodes no longer exist – eventually to be replaced by brand new episodes as those albums come around again – no doubt many of you are still familiar with my origin story with Alice Cooper. It is the singles I remember most vividly from my pre-teen years, especially “School’s Out” and “Department of Youth” which were sung on the bus on the way home during the last afternoon of term, and also “You and Me” that Mum had recorded on one of her mixed tapes of the age. My first album that I discovered of Alice’s was “Constrictor” and “Raise Your Fist and Yell”, recorded for me by my heavy metal music dealer during my final years of high school. And obviously, from that point on, it was a time to begin to search out the many many other albums that they had released.
The original run of albums by the original Alice Cooper Band came almost in a block, or a couple of blocks at least. And the first two stand out apart from the next five because they are so different, and very much of their own era. And when you listen to those two albums, and then put this album on, the third released by the band, you are immediately hit by the massive difference of style of music, structure of song, but the sheer leap in professionalism of the album. These songs are a mile in front of their predecessors. They are tight and driven, musically adept with the twin guitars and the rhythm of the bass and drums, and in Alice’s vocals they have a purpose at last. Getting this album on its release, having only had those first two albums, must have been a blast, a really defining moment in the love of the band.
Even over this past couple of weeks, when I have put the album back on again, I still notice the true first visit from the Alice Cooper Band. From the opening of the first song, there is still that momentous coming together of the five members of the band that makes this era so special. And the excellence of the album is still immediately noticeable. This is one of those albums where there are the three songs that are very well known that make their presence felt when they come on, those being “I’m Eighteen”, “Is it My Body” and “Ballad of Dwight Fry”, but the quality of the surrounding tracks is still so important. “Caught in a Dream”, “Long Way to Go”, “Second Coming” and “Sun Arise” all help to keep this album forward in your mindset while listening. And the variety of the songwriters on this album is not compromised by that. Each has a contribution to make, and each seems to slip seamlessly into the mood of the album throughout. And without a doubt, this is at least partially due to the arrival of Bob Ezrin on the scene, as he would showcase over the next half a century.
This still ranks as a landmark album. It took Alice Cooper into the charts, reaching #35 on the US charts and #28 in the UK. It became the catalyst for what was to come, in all of its shapes and forms. The tour that followed cemented this and the band’s reputation. “Love it To Death” is still an album everyone should listen to once. It is a fun and enjoyable ride.

1339. Bad Religion / The Gray Race. 1996. 4/5

For a band that was considered an underground success through its tenure of the 1980’s decade, the arrival of the 1990’s and the explosion that came with the onset of grunge and alternative rock could either be seen to be the greatest stroke of luck that Bad Religion every received, or just partly the result of their own hard work in the genre through that previous decade. The increase in their exposure at the end of that decade and into the beginning of 1990 and 1991 was, according to guitarist Brett Gurewitz, due to a necessary change for their sixth album “Generator”. “We did it in a different studio, but as far as the songwriting, it was a deliberate effort to try something different”.
That album, released in 1992 proved to be somewhat of a catalyst. With the rising tide of the alternative scene, Bad Religion signed to Atlantic Records, and released their first album on a major label titled “Recipe for Hate” in 1993, and saw them reach their highest position in the US charts to that time. Though only getting mixed reviews fro so-called critics, they found an audience willing to take them on, and the tour to promote the album only saw their popularity grow. This was followed the following year by “Stranger Than Fiction”, which became the band’s most successful album. Based around the hits like the title track, “Infected” and “21st Century (Digital Boy)”, as well as recording the song “Leaders and Followers” for the soundtrack of the hit indie film “Clerks”, “Stranger Than Fiction” reached 87 on the US charts. The success of this album led the way for bands such as Green Day, The Offspring and Rancid to follow them into commercial success.
However, this had led to the departure of Gurewitz from the band following the recording of that album. Gurewitz owned and ran the label Epitaph Records whom the band had been with until they signed with Atlantic, and with the exploding success of one of the label’s other bands The Offspring, whose album “Smash” had just crushed it on the charts, he said he needed more time at the office than being in the band would allow. The conflict came from him also suggesting the band had sold out in the chase for more money. It led to an uncomfortable relationship between himself and lead singer Greg Graffen for a time.
With the change in personnel, and a change in the writing partnership having come about due to this change, the band entered the studio with producer Ric Ocasek (formerly of The Cars) to begin work on what would become their ninth album, the album called “The Gray Race”.

The album opens with the title track, which sets the tone immediately, with a brisk tempo, tight harmonies, and that excellent sense of urgency that perpetuates the band’s best tracks. It’s Bad Religion doing what they do best—questioning conformity and the systems that shape identity. This is followed up by “Them and Us”, another example of the best the band has to offer, and has been considered one of the band’s most popular tracks. Discussing social division that they saw as prevalent in the world, the song still has an upbeat feel about it, helped along by the great fast tempo and guitar lines that pervade a positive attitude that the bleak subject matter contravenes. “A Walk” was the first single released from the album, one that has a simple back beat and lyrics that are easy to sing along to, making it accessible to all fans of different genres. It’s punchy, catchy, and built around a simple but effective riff. Lyrically, it’s a meditation on personal governance and the absurdity of modern life. It is easy to see why this became a fan favourite. “Parallel” offers a more introspective action, discussing alienation and the difficulty in finding a meaning to life in a world that is fragmenting around them. It has a lot of parallels to the world of 2026 as much as it did to 1996. Graffin’s vocals soar through the chorus, and the harmonies offered are terrific here again. You can hear snatches of Husker Du here, which in turn also offers comparisons to what Foo Fighters did later on as well. “Punk Rock Song” is the anthem of the album, the fast, easily deciphered message of the lyrics punching out at you from the speakers. It is sardonic, loud, and focused on political hypocrisy. The song’s bluntness is part of its charm—it’s Bad Religion at their most direct, and it works superbly. It is my favourite song here.
One of the great aspects of this album, as with the majority of Bad Religion’s work, is the short time span each song takes up. The longest song on the album is 3:48, while the average length is just over two minutes. It means that the album keeps moving forward, not dwelling too long on one aspect or mood. Case in point is this middle section of the album. “Empty Causes” rushes through with the same best fast tempo this album produces, laying waste to those with activism for show and hollow causes beautifully. “Nobody Listens” pushes on just as fast, the rhythm section taking the lead and charging onwards while Graffin sprouts his disdain about communication breakdown and oblique noise in society. “Pity the Dead” marginally draws back the tempo, drawing more on a more emotively sombre weight within the music and vocals to express the heaviness of the subject matter. And “Spirit Shine” speaks of the business of selling spirituality, and making it a commodity rather than a personal philosophy. These four tracks, all bright and breezy with serious subject matter made to sound like fun while being a hard dissection of the story, take up less than ten minutes of your time, just like the best punk styled songs do.
“The Streets of America” changes the mood and tempo completely. As the longest track, it also drops back in tempo but raises the intensity of the message in the lyrics, specifically the way inequality, neglect, and disillusionment shape everyday life in the United States. The imagery is sharp, and the chorus is one of the album’s most memorable. And it is another song on this album that could have been describing 2026 rather than 1996. “Ten in 2010” picks up the speed and cynicism aspects. A peek at the future form the now-past, imagining overpopulation and environmental overwhelming. The frantic pace offers a feeling of urgency that matches what their lyrics are suggesting. Classic Bad Religion is restored with “Victory”, a song where the skeptical tone of the lyrics is contrasted by the upbeat melody of the music. Have fun while bouncing along to the music and discussing the downfall of humanity! Fabulous. “Drunk Sincerity” moves down a different path, speaking of vulnerability, the kind that surfaces when emotionally overwhelmed or simply exhausted by the world. It’s not so much about alcohol as much as it is about those moments when honesty is forced to the surface through fatigue. It is poignant as well as musically sincere. “Come Join Us” returns to the bands biting critique of political recruitment and ideological manipulation. It draws sarcastic and cynical vocals supported by hard hitting drums and great riffs. It’s another beauty. And the album then concludes with “Cease”, a song that draws together all of the themes explored on the album, the disillusionment and search for meaning, and explores them all as the finale. It is a broader track musically as well, closing out the album with a sense of closing out a speech. In many ways, as the concluding remarks on a wide range of issues the band has brought to the table on this album, that is exactly what it does.

I remember, as clear as if it happened yesterday, back in 1996 when I first became aware of this album. Well, to be fair, it was initially just a song. I was watching “Rage” on ABC TV one Saturday morning, at a time when they used to play the new release single videos in Australia in full. And this song just burst out of the TV speakers with intensity and a hard rocking punk riff, and it grabbed my attention immediately. It was the video for “Punk Rock Song”, it lasted a couple of minutes, but also had some words scrubbed into silence. And I thought “Wow... I really like that!” So the following morning, when they used to do exactly the same thing, I was there and I recorded it onto VHS on my metal music video, and there it remained for posterity, being played back over and over. I walked up King Street in Newtown to one of my local record store haunts, Fish Records, and couldn’t find a copy of this album, but I did find the CD single of “Punk Rock Song” and bought that instead. And played that over and over. This was my introduction to “The Gray Race”.
That late 1990’s decade was one where I fell in with the commercial punk and alternative bands of the era. Bad Religion was a part of that, along with The Offspring and Green Day and NOFX and Rancid and Therapy? For me it is a tight and narrow window, where the albums of those bands still resonate with me, but beyond this time period I have rarely looked for their work. It is true of Bad Religion as well. I own “Stranger Than Fiction” and this album, but that’s the extent of my real knowledge of the band’s music. And that ties in a bit with where I was living at the time and where I was in my life. It was slightly tumultuous, and this genre of music was good for me at that time.
Listening to the album again over the last week has been fun. It brought back a lot of memories from that time, and it reminded me not only of how I felt about this album at the time, but that I still find it great to listen to. It is true that over the past week I have often found myself considering what song I was actually listening to. The short sharp time span of the songs on this album still works well, but the somewhat similarity of the structure of some of the tracks does mean that it can sound like it is four songs on repeat. Not all of them, mind you, just some. But that doesn’t matter to me. I still thoroughly enjoy this album and what it stands for.
Bad Religion moved on after this album, but this has been as far as I have ever investigated their music. Perhaps one day I will get out there and check out their albums post 1996. I’m sure I’ll like them. But sometimes it is just an album, or a song, that is what you really want to hear. And when it comes to Bad Religion, it is really this one that is all that I need.

1336. Deep Purple / Purpendicular. 1996. 4/5

It was often said over the years that the tension that brewed within the members of Deep Purple, and in particular between lead singer Ian Gillan and guitarist Ritchie Blackmore, was what helped them to create the amazing back catalogue of albums in their discography, that the drive to succeed and better each other and the group was what helped to create the superlative albums that the band had released. Perhaps there is an element of truth to that, but it must have made time in the studio and the constant touring far less enjoyable than it could have been. The band had slowly peeled away until its eventual hiatus in 1975, something that was discussed in more detail on the review of “Come Taste the Band”, episode 158 of this podcast. The return of the Mark II lineup in 1984 was heralded, but the old arguments returned, which saw Gillan remove himself from the group again for 1990’s “Slave and Masters” album, and then be reinstated for 1993’s “The Battle Rages On”. 1993 was the band’s 25th anniversary, and the record label and other band members wanted Gillan to return for it, something that Blackmore had been decidedly against, only agreeing to it when he receive what amounts to a $250,000 bribe to be a part of it. Good money if you can get it.
Things surprisingly didn’t improve. Tension was still rife within the group. Of particular contention was that Gillan had reworked much of the material that had been written with Joe Lynn Turner for the new album before he had been moved on for Gillan’s return. Blackmore felt that Gillan's rewrites had made the songs less melodic than they had been in their original versions. On the tour that followed, Blackmore became more disgruntled, and began behaving like a petulant child, often not performing his guitar parts and performing spats with crew and cameramen. Eventually Blackmore quit in November 1993, this time for good. Guitar god Joe Satriani was drafted in to complete the tour, shows that were met with unanimous praise and a feeling that perhaps the tension had finally lifted. Satriani was asked to join the band but declined due to his own commitments. Instead, the band unanimously went for Steve Morse, guitarist for the Dixie Dregs, to come into the band, which occurred in August 1994.
Deep Purple was now in a new and different era. Four of the five members of the Mark II lineup remained, alongside their much younger and sprightly guitar player. The 90’s decade had brought about a huge shift in the style and popularity of music genres, and there had to be questions as to where – or whether or not – Deep Purple and their style of music still fit in the changing world. What would their newest recruit bring to the table, and would that be enough to help right the ship? All would be revealed on the album that retrospect likely shows us was the beginning of the next great chapter of the band, the album titled “Purpendicular”.

With so much pressure on the band and their new guitarist from the outset, both Deep Purple and Steve Morse deliver immediately from the opening track “Vavoom: Ted the Mechanic”. Not only is Morse’s staccato guitar riffing immediately prominent, offering his own playing while comfortably fitting straight into the style that Deep Purple have made synonymous, it fits around Gillan’s vocals and both are comfortable together. It has a live feeling about the track, and Morse with his own eccentricities bounds along. Ian Gillan’s lyrics are based around a story he heard in a bar, and he sings it in the narrative style that he performs so well. It’s catchy, has a terrific groove, and the band sounds as though they are having a great time while playing it. “Loosen My Strings” changes the mood up, coming at you with a melodic yet introspection of both music and lyrics, with the layering of Gillan’s vocals drawing more out of this as a result. This style of song is one that Deep Purple had been developing over its past three albums, with Roger Glover’s bass guitar setting the platform of the dulcet mood. Jon Lord’s keys are subtle but enhance that mood throughout, and the song builds through to the fuller sounding conclusion, with Morse’s guitar solo mirroring the beautiful nature of the song as it fades out. It is a song that echoes the direction the band would take into the new century as the band grew into its age and realised it wasn’t the hard rock trend setter it had been at its peak. “Soon Forgotten” has a darker and more experimental tone, driven by Lord’s organ and the offsetting riff he provides on it. Backed by the equally charged harmonics from Morse it is an eerie and unusual atmosphere created here, very unlike Deep Purple, and yet despite the shift in mood its unconventional structure offers a counterpoint to what most would expect from the band. Its adventurous, it's strange, but it is compelling.
Then comes the track that is the album’s glory, one which constituted the true beginning of the new era of Deep Purple, “Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming”. Beginning with Lord’s beautiful piano organ tone and Gillan’s soft and emotionally wrought vocal, it crashes in with the drums, bass and guitar along with the organ back in control, the rise in Gillan’s power slightly to emphasise the growing to the next level of the song. His articulation of his lyrics moves with the song, as Morse and his guitar beautifully accentuate the same beautiful parameters of the track, before crashing to the higher level as Gillan sings more forcefully and emotionally as Ian Paice’s drums drive the harder aspect of the chorus. Then, just as suddenly we sink back to the moving middle section, Lord and Morse switching the front and centre parts as Gillan continues his mid-range emotive exposition, and then climbing back into the chorus again. It is a rising and falling swell throughout the song, moving motions around as it goes. Morse’s solo is still one of the most beautiful things he has ever produced, and then we build to the powerful crash of the wave that blasts the track home, as Gillan tracks over his vocals to double down on the emotive outpouring he and the band have offered throughout. Words of description here barely begin to explain how amazingly beautiful and powerful this song is. Deep Purple used to write hard rock and metal anthems, alongside their amazing hits like “Child in Time”. This song is a thing of beauty, and while it may well be the final truly great song they have ever produced, it most certainly is that. It remains one of my favourite ever Deep Purple songs.
Having recovered from the emotional journey of the previous track, “Cascades: I’m Not Your Lover” brings you back to earth with the more straight forward and traditional hard rocking track. The energy of the live aspect of the band flows through this song, with Lord and Glover dominating the verse and chorus sections, and the drive coming from Paice on drums and Morse on guitar. Gillan’s vocals return to full strength along the way, and the middle section of the song where Lord and Morse are given their chance to shine give it the full Deep Purple candour. “The Aviator” has a true folk-rock feel about its structure, a surprisingly and somewhat humorous thing given the way their former guitarist went with his music over the following three decades. There are touches of Led Zeppelin about this performance, an understated track that Gillan’s lyrics evokes with flight, freedom and introspection. The semi-acoustic touches add another level to the music that the band has composed for this album. The changing depths to the music of this album is given another nudge here. “Rosa’s Cantina” mixes things up further, a very funk, groove-driven track that wouldn’t have been out of place on the Coverdale-Hughes era albums of the mid-1970's. Gillan’s harmonica also makes an appearance. Paice and Glover strut their stuff here holding down the funky groove, with Lord joining in during his musical interlude.
A return to the true merge of organ and guitar comes with “A Castle Full of Rascals”, a track with the mix of the best elements of each member involved. The break down in the middle, the quieter section that splits the song in two, draws in another element of change within the band’s renewed template. “A Touch Away” is a more melodic song, gentler in output more atmospheric in tone through the guitar and organ moodiness. Like “Loosen My Strings” it signals a deliberate change in the band’s direction, subtle though it is at this point of their career. It is another beautifully composed and played track that does not compromise the integrity of the band’s history while certainly pushing the initial beginnings of the band’s growth into its middle age.
“Hey Cisco” clicks back into traditional Deep Purple territory, and the byplay between Lord and Morse here returns in a more upbeat and fun sense, Gillan’s bouncy vocals drawing off the similar bass line from Glover and the busier drumming from Paice to create an enjoyable and tempo raising track. This is followed the lean back into the blues based hard rock anthem of “Somebody Stole My Guitar”, with Gillan’s best story-telling vocals when he sounds at his most confident. These kinds of songs are often Deep Purple’s best because the band sounds relaxed and the songs come across that way as a result. The album then concludes with “The Purpendicular Waltz”, a whimsical, rhythmically unusual track that blends rock with a waltz‑like feel. It’s a bold ending, once again showcasing the band’s willingness to experiment and that there is a definite air of change about what the band is offering. With their new guitarist on board, and a more collaborative feeling within the group due to Morse’s arrival, it concludes an album that exudes a new start for a band, one that hits all of the right notes.

The mid-1990's was a scene of massive upheaval in the music world that I resided in, along with the real world I was trying to navigate. The result of this was that 1996 was a year that I didn’t go out and find a whole lot of new albums that were being released. And despite my adulation of the band and ALL of the albums they had released up until that point, this album and its follow up passed me by on its release. It wasn’t until Deep Purple made their belated return to Australian shores after 15 years in 1999 that I found out this album and its follow up existed. I saw them live without knowing them, and after that concert I tracked both albums down. So the last Deep Purple album I had listened to had been the previous release “The Battle Rages On” with Blackmore, which I enjoy, but having seen Steve Morse live I was looking forward to hearing what he had contributed to the band in the studio.
This had been an interesting album when I finally got around to hearing it. And that comes solely from what I’ve already spoken about, the change in how Deep Purple were heading with their sound, that begins right here on this album. And that change is gradual over several albums, before they become the comfortable sounding almost lounge club act that they have become over their last couple of albums. Listening to the changes in musical style of the band through songs such as “Loosen My Strings”, “Soon Forgotten”, “The Aviator” and “A Touch Away” was something that, when I first listened to the album, I didn’t think I was prepared for. But in the long run I was wrong. Deep Purple was not the young, brash trend setting band they had been in the 1970’s. And with the movement in music genre that had taken place during the 1990’s decade, the fact that Deep Purple had not followed those trends, and had instead found what they were comfortable in writing and recording, and stuck true to their own core musically while incorporating the changes that THEY wanted to be directed by, meant that their integrity was retained, and for me as a fan I found that to be comforting. What is perhaps ironic is that there can be a case made that this was the kind of thing Blackmore had been pushing for with the “Slaves and Masters” album, and which had been stripped away when Gillan had returned for “The Battle Rages On”.
My CD copy of this album has been out again for the last couple of weeks, and to me this still sounds magnificent. This is still a Deep Purple album, despite what may be presented here in this review. It is a more modern, less bombastic version of the band from their heyday, but so it should be after almost 30 years, and the sound that they initially came from. Deep Purple has reinvented itself three or four times over its journey to this album, each to incorporate newer members of the band, and incorporating their sound into their music. And it has always worked. And it works again here. The core of the band here has been together for an eternity, and it is always a comfort to hear them play together. And Steve Morse is just marvellous, and his contribution to the album and the band is spectacular. None better than on this track, which is still one of the best things this band has ever produced.

1335. Primal Fear / Nuclear Fire. 2001. 4/5

Following their sophomore album “Jaws of Death”, released in 1999, Primal Fear had come to solidify their position in the power metal sphere of the metal genre, when the genre was beginning to explode globally. And yet Primal Fear was still very much of their own version of that genre, their music rooted in the traditions of Judas Priest, along with Accept, Helloween and the German heavy metal lineage. After forming around the trio of lead vocalist Ralf Scheepers, bass guitarist Matt Sinner and guitarist Tom Naumann, the band’s first two albums were solid entries into the European metal scene of the late 1990’s without providing a significant impact, or perhaps more importantly exuding a unique style that all bands are looking to find. Despite the excellence of the band members themselves, they were to this point in time better known as having the former lead singer of Gamma Ray, and that first album having had Kai Hansen guest of three tracks.
After the album had been completed, Naumann had been force to quit the band due to ill health. During the tour through Europe, Brazil and Japan he was replaced by Alex Beyrodt for the live shows. In January 2000, Henny Wolter joined the band as a permanent replacement on guitar.
Moving into their third album, the band needed to find a way to bring about their own individuality, to stamp their own style onto their music while utilising the best style that they possessed. The first two albums had a drum style that was solid yet not distinctive, a great vocalist who had proven himself in other bands prior to Primal Fear being incorporated, and music that differed from the style that most power metal bands from Europe utilised by being a guitar driven band rather than a keys and synth driven band. What Primal Fear needed to work out was what worked best for them, what they wanted to bring in to have them make their own mark in their music. And it is fair to say that with “Nuclear Fire” they managed to unlock the key that was to give them the impetus they needed as they moved into the new millennium. It represents a crystallization of their identity: a fusion of excellent guitar riffing, unlocking the true soaring vocals of Scheepers, mixed with the commitment to the classic heavy metal ethos. While their first two albums established Primal Fear as heirs to the German metal throne, “Nuclear Fire” is where they truly stepped into their own embodiment.

The album opens with a blast of speed and precision. “Angel in Black” is a mission statement: fast, melodic, and driven by a chorus that sticks instantly. The twin‑guitar harmonies of Stefan Leibing and Henny Wolter set the album in motion, but it is perhaps Scheepers’ soaring scream and following vocals that set the tone for the entire record. The fast tempo is exactly where the album needs to be, and it leads of in wonderful style. It is one of the band’s most iconic openers and remains a live staple. This is followed by “Kiss of Death”, a darker, more dramatic track which showcases Primal Fear’s ability to blend atmosphere with power. The chorus is expressive, and the song’s pacing gives Scheepers room to explore his dynamic range. The guitar solos combine a wonderful melodic quality that is pushed along by the rhythm of Sinner’s bass and Klaus Sperling’s drums. “Back from Hell” brings in Scheepers’s best Rob Halford channelled vocal screams, and mirrors the great speed metal tracks of the 1980’s with its incredible speed driven by the double kick and double time riffing guitars. The injection of adrenaline from the opening stanza combines with the mood and greats of the genre. There is barely a chance to draw breath throughout, and it is this kind of track that Primal Fear surely looked to build their reputation on. The opening three tracks on this album have already set the platform for where the band wanted to take their sound, and it is a fist shakingly fantastic stand to take. The guitaring in particular is brutal and brilliant.
After the breath stealing opening to the album, “Now or Never” pulls itself back into a more melodic and mid‑tempo anthem. The chugging guitar riff keeps the heaviness of the track prevalent and balances the change in tempo without making it feel as though the integrity of the album has collapsed. The chorus is perfectly performed by Ralf, and the melodic dual guitars of the middle of the song, combined with their solo pieces, creates another piece of this excellent metal puzzle. “Fight the Fire” crashes back into the powerful and aggressive drum and guitar combination, a fast and fiery track with a ripping guitar riff and powerful chorus that acts as the centrepiece to the song. Primal Fear have made a career out of producing this kind of blueprinted track from this album onwards, and this remains one of their best in that respect, with that rhythm setting up the song and Ralf’s duelled vocals pitching it over the top.
On the back of this comes “Eye of an Eagle”, which again moves back to a mid-tempo driven by Scheepers and his power mid-to-high range vocal being the basis of the song, drawn along by the hard core guitar riff and matching guitar solo break from the two guitarists. The solid normal tempo hard hitting drum beat backed by Sinner’s powerful bassline make this a truly interesting comparison track alongside the faster scintillating efforts that precede it. Scheepers and his multi layered vocals give it a chanting feel along the way.
“Bleed for Me” acts as the drawn back change up track for the album, channelling the power metal ballad in its characteristic slower pace and clear guitared section to match Ralf’s soaring vocal that would portray the style – and yet it avoids true comparison to that style of track because of the band’s refusal to allow it to descend to that depth. Ralf’ amazing vocal holds firm in not trending to ballad status, and the music behind them also does not sell out to that quality. As a song that looks to act as a counterpoint to the rest of the material on the album, without going so far as to be something it is not, “Bleed for Me” is a highly effective. It is followed by the title track “Nuclear Fire”, one that lives up to its title. It returns the album to its heavy, fast, and packed with energy best. The chorus is explosive, and the song encapsulates the album’s musical themes of intensity, raw speed and thunderous guitars. The melodic combination through the middle of the song is pure Helloween and Gamma Ray, and it continues to deliver what the album has professed that it is. Then comes the excellent opening riffing of “Red Rain”, banging into the hard-hitting rhythm and Ralf’s melodically dualled vocals again taking centre stage. “Fire on the Horizon” hits along the template that the band has crested for itself on this album, the fast start driven by the drums and bass, the entry of Ralf’s amazing vocals and then riffing of the guitars, which go into overdrive during their solo exhibitions. It’s another beauty. This then leads into the closing track, the unapologetically cheesy “Living for Metal”, the song that celebrates exactly where the band has come from, and the style and sound that brought them together. The lyrics speak to what the band believe in, and in a way that becomes the power metal anthem that gives the band it final flourish. It was the first, but certainly not the last, of this kind of track that Primal Fear would offer us along their journey.

My introduction to Primal Fear was in fact this album, which came from the discovery that initial Gamma Ray vocalist Ralf Scheepers was a part of the band. I loved Ralf’s vocals on the first two Gamma Ray albums – not so much the third, but that is a story for another day – and I was excited to discover what he was doing in a new band. What I discovered was something that I thought was outrageously good. Not just Ralf, but the band and music as well. It was in fact very close to what I truly wanted from my power metal music – the bright guitars, the fast paced music, the hammering double kick timing that wasn’t overloaded, and great vocals to match it all. That is what Primal Fear offered to me on my first impressions with “Nuclear Fire”. And I was dragged in from the outset.
What they also did was not blunt their fire and energy with a characteristic power metal ballad or two, which is pretty much the order of the day if you are a power metal band. The one song that changes up the focus of the album, “Bleed for Me”, retains its metal focus and does not descend to the depths that a majority of these types of tracks often do. And for me that was the clincher.
Power metal is not for everyone, and even in this instance, many prefer the guitar duelling with the brazen keyboardist and synths to bring that melodic feel to the music. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy that too, especially when those bands allow the dual to occur just like the best music in Deep Purple did with Blackmore and Lord. But here, banking on the two guitars like traditional pure heavy metal does, Primal Fear are able to draw in fans of both styles because of the way they construct their songs with their lineup. And for me at least, that is a winner. The burgeoning writing combination of Ralf Scheepers and Matt Sinner is important, and the dual guitars from Leibing and Wolter is spectacular are pleasingly spectacular, along with the excellent drumming from Sperling.
I have had this album back in my CD player again for the past week, and it has been just as enjoyable as it always is. As it was my entry point to the band, it will always hold a special place in my memory. But it is the enjoyment of the pace of the music, those guitars and Ralf’s massive vocal entry that keeps me coming back.
This was the start of a string of albums from the band that brought them to prominence in the heavy metal community. It stands as the first, as the album that saw the band discover the style that was their own, that became that template of Primal Fear. And 25 years on it still stands the test of time in that regard.

1333. David Bowie / Station to Station. 1976. 4/5

By the time we had reached the mid-1970’s it is remarkable to think that David Bowie had already released nine studio albums. Much of his success up until that point in time had been his ability to reinvent himself and his style of music, meeting trends (or perhaps setting them himself) and creating and crafting songs and music that were able to meet the mood of the time, and then build on the legend he had created for himself. It is also true that his success was not always met with the huge monetary returns or initial albums sales that we have seen in the years and decades since. However, in regards to the recording and release of this album, it was the commercial success of his previous album, “Young Americans” in 1975 that allowed Bowie far greater freedom when it came time to write and record his next album. It is also true that the sessions established the lineup of guitarist Carlos Alomar, bassist George Murray and drummer Dennis Davis that Bowie would use for the remainder of the 1970’s decade.
It had been a remarkably busy time for Bowie in both his music and his other creative pursuits. Following the release of “Young Americans”, Bowie was offered a role in the movie adaptation of Walter Tevis's 1963 novel ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth’. In the film, Bowie portrays the lead role of Thomas Jerome Newton, an alien who travels to Earth in search of materials for his dying planet, eventually becoming corrupted by humans. director Nicolas Roeg warned the star that the part of Newton would likely remain with him for some time after the filming. With Roeg's agreement, Bowie developed his own look for the film, and this served as a major influence on Bowie's next onstage character, the Thin White Duke. Prior to filming beginning Bowie had picked up a nasty cocaine addiction. He recalled in 1993: "My one snapshot of that film is not having to act...Just being me as I was perfectly adequate for the role. I wasn't of this earth at that particular time”. Bowie moved to Los Angeles for the filming, and stayed with Deep Purple Bass guitarist Glenn Hughes – not the most stable of room mates. Bowie lived in an increasingly paranoid state, recalling he refused to use elevators because of his fear of heights. His addiction severed friendships with musicians Keith Moon, John Lennon and Harry Nilsson; he later said: "If you really want to lose all your friends and all of the relationships that you ever held dear, cocaine is the drug to do it with”.
When he had time off from filming, Bowie wrote a collection of short stories called ‘The Return of the Thin White Duke’, as well as writing new songs as the film progressed. On its conclusion, Bowie and his band returned to the studio to create, master and record his follow up to “Young Americans” that he simply titled “Station to Station”.

The opening track winds its way through ten minutes of beautiful and imaginative Bowie magnificence, the longest song of Bowlie’s entire discography, the opening wavy imitations of a steam train entering the station not lost upon the title of the track, before incorporating the distorted guitar in the back of the mix, allowing the drum beat and funky bass to hold court in the main. It is a slow march, in no hurry to reach its destination. At the five minute mark to song moves into a higher energy and faster tempo, and it is almost a different song in the way it jumps around enhanced by the keyboards and bass and guitar solo through the back half of the song that now dominates, bringing back sounds that are familiar on “Aladdin Sane” and “Ziggy Stardust”. It doesn’t feel like ten minutes while listening to the song, perhaps because it DOES feel like two different tracks, and because the second half of the song is so upbeat and joyous. Lyrically the Thin White Duke persona is mentioned in the first line, and brings us to where this album and Bowie himself were heading on this album. It is a cracking opening track.
“Golden Years” was the first single released from the album, some two months prior to the album’s release, acting as its emissary. It is perhaps the best known track from the album, and also possesses a more regular rhythm and vocal throughout as a result. Stories abound that the track was written for Elvis Presley, with whom Bowie shared a record label at the time, but that he turned it down. It is more of a mid-tempo funky groove and less energetic than the opening track, one that sits in a safe space here.
“Word on a Wing” closes out the first side of the album, draw back even further, offering closer to a soul sound than the funk and energy of the previous two tracks. Bowie admits that the song was written out of a coke-addled spiritual despair that he experienced while filming “The Man Who Fell to Earth”. In 1980 Bowie spoke to the magazine NME, saying: "There were days of such psychological terror when making the Roeg film that I nearly started to approach my reborn, born again thing. It was the first time I'd really seriously thought about Christ and God in any depth, and 'Word on a Wing' was a protection. It did come as a complete revolt against elements that I found in the film. The passion in the song was genuine... something I needed to produce from within myself to safeguard myself against some of the situations I felt were happening on the film set”. And you can hear this in his vocals through the song, the passion and desperation all mixed into one during his performance. Given his quoted thoughts, you feel as there is no acting going into this particular track.
Side 2 opens with “TVC 15”, a song that appears well influenced by the cocaine that he was imbibing at the time. The track features almost honky tonk piano in places, and discusses the protagonist watching his girlfriend being eaten by his TV, and knowing the only way to get her back is to follow her in. It is a song not from a lucid mind one suspects, and yet here it works in the context of how the album came to be produced. If one were to criticise it, the perhaps it repeats itself for too long to take the song out to its conclusion, but perhaps that is exactly what the song was trying to indicate. Following this comes “Stay”, a true funk and soul guitar built track that incorporates the best pieces of Bowie’s repertoire, the heavy rhythm section overlain with great guitar licks and Bowie’s vocals moving between low to high, conversational to singing as the song requires. Guitarist Carlos Almoar later recalled: “This song was recorded very much in a cocaine frenzy. 'Stay' was basically done with the rhythm section. It was pretty funky and pretty much straight ahead. I wrote out a chart and said this was pretty much what we wanted to do. That song I think David did on the guitar. He strummed a few chords for me, and then we gave it back to him. The rhythm section really liked that one, and then Earl Slick covered some of the lines I had laid down with a thicker sound”. The band is really given its chance to shine on this track, and the mix of the album, with the bass coming through forward while the guitars are slightly more in the background works a treat.
The album closer is “Wild is the Wind”, which is a cover of the Johnny Mathis song that was recorded for the 1957 film of the same name, and which was then recorded by Nina Simone. It was this version of the song that Bowie covered, saying it was as a homage to her vision of the track. Simone had extensively reworked the song, with slow, sparse instrumentation and her drawn-out vocal delivery expressing a sense of loss. Bowie admired this, and for his version here he said he tried to take special care with the arrangement and production, committing to an emotional and romantic vocal performance modelled after Simone's. It is indeed quite a startling performance here by Bowie. Musically it is beautifully moulded and performed, but it is his vocal performance that is staggeringly good. Everything about this track is pure magnificent David Bowie, and something that is hard not to love.

David Bowie was a ‘later in life’ love affair for me. He was always someone who I knew of, mainly from some obsessive fans that I went to high school with, who did spend some time trying to convince me of his supposed greatness. But it wasn’t until the late 1990’s that I began to be drawn in by his music, and that came from a couple of different sources, which included movies and TV shows that I admired using his music in them, and thus giving me a greater exposure to a wider range of his music. This eventually led to me investigating through a best of album, and once I had been indoctrinated, it meant then investigating David Bowie albums on a whole. And the fact that he had so many of them made it a long and somewhat slow process. And it also involved some albums immediately connecting with me, and others that remained on the periphery for a long time.
“Station to Station” has been one of those albums that has remained mostly a mystery to me. I didn’t even own my own copy of this album until just recently, and I admit that had been an oversight. Apart from the well known track of “Golden Years”, I didn’t even know the name of the other five songs on the album. So it is definitely one of those albums that I don’t know particularly well. One of the things that surprised me about “Station to Station” is that it is so highly regarded within the Bowie fandom, and even in regards to albums that critics suggest everyone should listen to. Only because, within the people that I discuss music with, it has never ever been mentioned. The albums all around it are all spoken of, but this one I just was barely aware of. And this made my dissection of the album for this episode more than interesting.
As you will have heard, it has been an interesting experience this week, reliving an album that I had heard before but never really taken in. It is a transitional album, away from those early 70’s albums and into what would become his Berlin Trilogy, where his sound and image took on its own new persona. And the more I have listened to the album, the more I have enjoyed it. I enjoy how it doesn’t outstay its welcome, it isn’t overblown in regard to total length, and the six songs sit in a perfect arc that when looked at in retrospect, around all of his other albums of that decade, seems to be a perfect fit. And in many ways, only someone like David Bowie could have achieved that.
In my mind, as I approach an older age, I look forward to the day when I can sit back, set aside an entire week, and work my way completely through David Bowie’s discography, and get a true feeling for the way he put together his musical career. Listening to “Station to Station” this week, and finding another piece of that puzzle, I get the feeling that my appreciation for his greatness would increase if, or when, I get that opportunity.

1329. Alice in Chains / Live. 2000. 4/5

The performance of the band on MTV Unplugged in April 1996, that was then released as a live album on July 30 1996, is pretty much where the line is drawn in the Layne Staley era of Alice in Chains. Certainly there were some releases after this, including the “Music Box” compilations that included a couple of new tracks. But as to the band actively being what could be described AS a band, that album completed the cycle. The band’s final live gigs with Layne Staley took place in that month as well, which places another pin in that board – and yes, I did avoid using the term ‘nail in the coffin’ for obvious reasons – although now that I’ve used it anyway, that seems a tad superfluous. And while the period between 1996 and 2002 is a seemingly drawn out affair, I won’t be covering that story here. Suffice to say, if you are interested, may I direct you to the podcast titled ‘And Volume For All’, where Season 2 covers the story of Alice in Chains in great detail, including this rather sad and unfortunate period of their existence. ‘And Volume For All’ continues to be the very best heavy metal podcast on the planet, and along with Quinn’s ridiculously amazing Alice in Chains series he has much more to offer, and I truly suggest you should check it out if you have not already done so.
No doubt in order to keep the name of the band alive (and also to continue to produce income streams for the record company itself, trying to cash in on several high selling albums), said record company pulled together a selection of live recordings the band had made over the years, and decided to put out a live album by the band that was indeed ‘plugged’ rather than ‘unplugged’. The three eras of the band are explored here, with two tracks coming from two different gigs in 1990, seven songs from 1993 of which six are from the same gig in Glasgow, and the five concluding tracks coming from consecutive days on July 2 and 3 of 1996, the final two shows the band ever played with the late great Layne Staley. Released as it was, four years following those final shows, the release felt like one that was in limbo, that it was celebrating a past life rather than being an album released to showcase the greatness of the band before they pushed on to the next studio album. It was of course an album released with a band in a holding pattern, a holding pattern that was one that flowed on into the mists of time.

As a compilation live album, one that has been taken from several sources, and is not just a full live concert recording from the one tour, it sometimes is troublesome in trying to adjust to the different eras of the band that are compiled onto the one album. In the past on this podcast I have extolled my preference for live albums to be from one show, to retain the integrity of the recording. This of course very rarely occurs. Even the greatest of live albums – Slayer's “Decade of Aggression”, Iron Maiden’s “Live After Death” and UFO’s “Strangers in the Night”, all had pieces taken from different nights of the tour. So I guess I have mostly rescinded that argument when it comes to me judging live albums. What it can be said about this particular live album is that it contains a cracking song list, and does give you the opportunity to judge for yourself if the band changed in their live scenario over the years.
The live version offered here of the opening track “Bleed the Freak” is absolutely awesome. The bassline, played here by Mike Starr is just beautiful, with that solid backing drums from Sean Kinney, but it is the vocals that steal the show, they are incredible. Layne and Jerry combine superbly here to create the version of the song you would have been hoping to hear had you ventured to see the band in 1990. However, “Queen of the Rodeo” is probably completely different for me. I have just never really enjoyed it much. Despite it being on the band’s demo “The Treehouse Tapes”, I think it missed out on being on “Facelift” for a reason. I understand the nice thought in including it on this album, but the song for me is underwhelming.
From here the album moves to 1993 and Glasgow, and some of the bands greatest songs. “Angry Chair” probably loses some of its angsty anger from the studio version on this live version, but it is such a great song it still holds its own. In particular, Jerry’s guitar solo is still stunning. “Man in the Box” follows, and is another song that is so magnificent on the studio album, and yet on this live version perhaps loses a little of its magic. I have seen it played live a number of times, and must admit I felt the same way about it when I saw Layne sing it, perhaps because each time he seemed to be a little...fluey. At least, that was the explanation that he gave. And yet, when I saw the band perform it with William DuVall it pumped, firstly because the band upped the tempo but also because William sang it like a fan would, and that made all the difference.
The next three songs though are just superb. “Love Hate Love”. Oh man, this drags in every awesome take from the studio version and magnifies it. The sombre mood, and the almost stop dead tempo of the live version is incredible. It lets Mike Inez’s bass guitar to come through so powerfully on top of Sean Kinney drums. And then Layne sings the fucking hell out of this live version. My word, everything that makes this song so magnificent in the studio version doubles down here. It is unbelievably awesome. From here the band heads into “Rooster”. Again, the slowed tempo, emphasising the bass and guitar along with the vocals of both Layne and Jerry is amazing, and the powerful drum beat pounding down as well. It is insanely good. Layne is on fire once again on this song. The marching drumming beat from Sean in the final verse as well is hypnotic. Magnificent. And then on top of this comes “Would?”, which is just outstanding. What a song, and everything sounds incredible here. The bassline, the drums, the guitar, and those combined vocals. What a song and it just carries it perfectly here. The rhythm of bass and drums on this song is the star turn on the live version, with Mike and Sean pummelling.
Into the second half of the album and we get a different mixture of tracks and performance. “Junkhead” sounds great in the main through the vocals, as Layne wails wonderfully on this live version, and that is what is the star turn. We then have a version of “Dirt” that is subtitled “Drunk and Disorderly version” and comes from a gig in Japan of 1993. Perhaps because of the reasons behind the subtitle I don’t find this as impactful as the studio version, but again the rhythm of Sean’s rolling drumbeat and Mike’s lolling bass line is the star attraction.
The final five tracks on the album come from what ultimately became the final live appearances of Layne Staley with Alice in Chains from St. Louis and Kansas City, though of course no one knew that at the time. “Them Bones” is a good live version. “God Am” for me has only ever been average as a song, and for me it is only average as a live version here. However, on the next track “Again”, the live version here brings this song to life far more than the studio version, and the studio version is one of the brightest tracks on that album! The rolling rhythm is fantastic from Sean and Mike and Jerry’s guitar riffs rock hard. A great version of the song. “A Little Bitter”, which comes from the soundtrack of “Last Action Hero”, is a beauty. Kinney and Inez again are just fabulous throughout this song, and when Jerry’s guitar riff cracks in at the one minute mark the song really ramps up. Another live version that kills its studio version. The album then concludes with “Dam That River”, a powerful rendition of that great track. You can almost see the crowd jumping around in excitement while listening to it. I certainly imagine myself at age 22 doing the exact same thing at the Hordern Pavilion as I listened along. It concludes what is overall a terrific live album experience.

I often say when reviewing live albums that they should almost always be a 5/5 album, because you are getting the bands best songs in their best environment. And I don’t OFTEN say it; I say it EVERY single time. So now I’ve said it again. And even though I don’t often listen to live albus in preference to listening to studio albums, they certainly do serve a purpose.
I bought this not long after its release. I had just spent most of 2000 saving for a deposit for a house, which we purchased in October of that year, and I felt as though I had a little spare money to buy an album or two. That wasn’t to be the case, given said house was then flooded in January 2001, but I still managed to get this not too long after that. And it was an interesting moment. I had, as had most of us, purchased the MTV Unplugged album soon after its release four years earlier and just adored it. Played it over and over, bought the VHS and watched it over and over. As a live performance, it is practically untouchable. So when this album came out, the band’s first fully electrified live album, showcasing the band in all its glory, I was excited. Tremendously excited. Perhaps... over excited? I mean, it had a bit to live up to. Anyway, I bought it, I listened to it, it was good, and back on the shelves it went, as my manic phase of European power meta and progressive metal began to take over my music listening world. And, there it remained. Not forever, but mostly, yes. And some of that came down to the fact that when I think about listening to Alice in Chains I think about listening to “Facelift” or “Dirt”, but ALSO that when I think about listening to Alice in Chains live, I think about listening to “MTV Unplugged”. Which proves on the one hand how ingrained that album is on my psyche, but how under the radar this live album actually is. Because I can tell you that listening to it again last night as I was preparing for this podcast episode, I loved almost every second of ti, and probably not for the first time wondered why I haven’t listened to this more, or even THINK about listening to it more! And the question that came to me was this – is everyone in the world who are Alice in Chains enjoyers have the same thoughts? Does ANYONE know that this album exists?!
This album showcases a large range of the great tracks from Alice in Chains in the live environment. Not all of them of course. And while all the versions here are good, there are others that it would have been nice to have heard as well. Layne’s passing in 2002 seemed to have put a full stop on the band ever playing again (though that became premature) and the fact that we have this album to rejoice in the quartet at their best is gratifying. If you haven’t heard this before, it would be well worth your time tracking it down.