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.

1334. Black Sabbath featuring Tony Iommi / Seventh Star. 1986. 3/5

There were several times over the years that the legendary guitarist Tony Iommi attempted to progress down the path of performing in a solo band; to write, record and perform in an entity that was NOT named Black Sabbath. When he has his initial discussions with Ronnie James Dio, after Ozzy Osbourne had been fired from Black Sabbath and it looked as though that band may well cease to exist, they were about putting together a separate project together that would not perform under that banner. Eventually it was Dio that joined Black Sabbath as Osbourne’s replacement. When he had discussions with Ian Gillan after the split with Dio and Appice, it was about performing in a project that would not bound to the Black Sabbath name. It wasn’t under that album was completed that all involved saw that it would indeed be released as a Black Sabbath album. And following that album, titled “Born Again”, when Gillan had returned to Deep Purple to bring back their own Mark II lineup for a reunion album and tour, and bass guitarist Geezer Butler and drummer Bill Ward has also both moved on for their own reasons, Iommi was faced with that reality head on once again. That surely, on this occasion, Black Sabbath would be lain to rest, or at the very least be given some time out to pasture.
And so, he prepared to write songs for a new project, a Tony Iommi project, one that would not be judged as a Black Sabbath album, where he could put together material that would not necessarily fit in a Black Sabbath world. And this is what he did. His initial plan was to write material and have a different vocalist on each track. His wish list included singers such as Robert Plant, Rob Halford, David Coverdale and Glenn Hughes. However, negotiating with their own publishing companies proved too difficult to sort out that idea, and he gave up on it. After a couple of short stints with vocalists David Donato and Jeff Fenholt, which included recording some demos that eventually were leaked and bootlegged extensively, Tony did come together with Glenn Hughes. After collaborating on a couple of songs, they agreed that they would do an entire album together, one that would allow Iommi to write material that he could never do under the Black Sabbath name, a deliberate move where he could show a versatility away from that band’s progression.
As with all things in music of course, not everything happens that easily. Record executives, no doubt seeing diminishing returns if they promoted the album as a Tony Iommi project, insisted on the album being released under the name Black Sabbath, even though not only was the tone of the album completely unrelatable to the material that band had released up to that point, but also that Tony was the only remaining member from either of the Mark 1, 2 or 3 lineups. It really was a complete cock-up, because this in no way sounds like a Black Sabbath album. But the executives and company weren’t having it. In the long run, the album was credited as “Black Sabbath featuring Tony Iommi”, which is surely one of the most ludicrous and preposterous band titles in the history of music. Tony had always been a part of Black Sabbath – why was it now Black Sabbath FEATURING Tony Iommi!?!? Did that solve the case that it was, and still should be considered, as a Iommi solo album? No. It does not. And the fact that it is listed as a part of the Black Sabbath discography is still something that feels out of place. It should be written out of that line up and just admitted as a solo release. Why? Well, that is something that we will now come to discuss.

The major reason for the certain amount of blowback that this album has received over the years is because of the way the songs have been composed, and just what the INTENTION was when those songs were written. They were written in the main by a legendary guitarist who was looking to compose a different type of song from what he had produced over the previous 15 plus years with his highly successful and influential band, alongside another legendary vocalist whose vocal style was usually lent to a different style of music than what was being expected from the band that this album was eventually referred to. And there is no doubting the quality of Glenn Hughes as a vocalist. Anyone who has heard him sing on the Deep Purple albums “Burn” and “Stormbringer” can attest to that. But he isn’t a heavy metal singer, or one that is ready to sing those types of songs that Black Sabbath had produced in the past. And between these two, they looked to produce an album that could combine Hughes’s talents along with Iommi looking to find a different drive away from his usual template. This is the way that the album should be listened to, not as an album of the Black Sabbath discography.
That being the case, there are some really good songs on this album, and some songs that require a certain amount of consideration of the reasoning behind why they were written. The album opens strongly with “In for the Kill” with a great introduction for new drummer Eric Singer, who Iommi had ‘stolen’ from his then-girlfriend’s solo band, Lita Ford, something that Iommi admitted in his autobiography helped to end that relationship (along with always doing copious amounts of cocaine with his mate Geoff Nicholls). The rumbling bass line from Dave Spitz helps create a great mood, and the rolling tempo geared with Iommi’s riffing offers a solid entry point into the album. “Turn to Stone”, which is the third song on the album, follows a similar route. It is uptempo, it has what I like to call on this album a great alternate Iommi riff and solo (one that isn’t the metal groundbreaking style of early Sabbath, but of a terrific hard rocking style that suits what he wants to achieve on this album) and Glenn’s vocals rage along in sync with it. It is another really good track for those that enjoy hard rocking fast tempo music. We then have the Geoff Nicholls keyboard heavy introduction of “Sphinx (The Guardian)” that acts as the precursor to the title track “Seventh Star”, a slower song that feels as though in a previous incarnation would have been far gloomier and doomier than this song is. Still, it has a terrific bass line from Spitz that is supported by the greater influence of the keys throughout from Nicholls, that simple solid drum beat from Singer, and Glenn’s vocal crooning over the top. Add to this another great riff from Tony and an even better composed solo through the middle of the track. All it seems to be missing is more energy throughout, both from Tony’s guitar and Glenn’s vocals. If he REALLY sang this, like we know he can at the top of his pipes, it could have been far more extraordinary.
Side 2 opens up with “Danger Zone” which has the most energy and punch of the album. The riff is harder, Glenn sings harder, and it sounds so much better as a result. “Angry Heart” phases in and out of soft rock while clinging somewhat desperately to the tendrils of hard rock around the edges. It channels some of the pieces of pop rock songs of the era with a greater emphasis from the Keys of Nicholls in the mix, and in this case it is Glenn’s vocals that carry the song, giving it the depth of character that makes it worth listening to.
The best examples of the experimentation Tony wanted to produce with this album can best be heard from three particular tracks. “Heart Like a Wheel” is basically a freeform blues exposition. The fade in of the song at the beginning is a bit standard, and the slow tempo and blues base of the track has you imagining the basement club filled with smoke, while an average blues band goes about its work. The ring of Singer’s snare on the track comes through too loud in comparison to the rest of the music on the song. Iommi plays as brilliantly as ever, and it is songs like this that he wanted to experiment with on this album, and the reason why the album is the way it is. And I’m all for it – it just isn’t the kind of song I enjoy, no matter who is playing it. At close to seven minutes of blues exploration, it overstays its welcome. The closing track to the album “In Memory…” is the second ballad of the album, this one of a truer character in that respect. It segues out of “Angry Heart” almost unnoticed apart from the softening of the mood of the track with the guitar closing to clear, and Glenn’s vocals rise to his beautiful ballad qualities that he is quite magnificent at.
Then comes the kicker. The second song on the album is the promotional single that was released, titled “No Stranger to Love”. If you are ever of a mind to do so, it is worth checking out the music video on YouTube and you’ll have an even better idea of how far away this is from being a Black Sabbath album. This is a pure power ballad, with every trick in the book that power ballads use to entice those that love these kinds of tracks into their web. And it is where this album loses a lot of listeners, because as the second track on the album it is so unexpected and so historically different. But here’s the thing - if you take it in the context that this ISN’T a Black Sabbath album, then you can judge it on face value, to like it or not like it. It is the major dividing song on this album, the one that truly sets itself apart from the track list. As discussed here it isn’t the only song that doesn’t necessarily fit the template that most want it to, but it is the major divisive one.
If you look at this purely as a solo album, does that cover up the large spindly cracks that being classed as a Sabbath album uncovers? No, it does not, and this song just goes to prove that. But approaching this as a solo release does at least give your ears the context they need to understand WHY it sounds so different to every other Sabbath album. Glenn Hughes is a brilliant vocalist, one of the greatest voices ever, and what he sings here is different from all other Sabbath vocalists. Anyone who has listened to the Iommi/Hughes album “Fused” from 2005 will know that these two can write and perform a thumping album. But this was 1986 and in an era that has its inherent problems.

“Seventh Star” was one of the first Black Sabbath albums I ever heard. This was mainly due to one of my best friends at the end of high school, who became particularly interested in the band during that time. As a result, he not only collected their albums in the same way I did – by having them taped for him by other friendly people onto blank C90 cassettes, but he also purchased this album on vinyl. He would often have it playing when I frequented his house, though initially I had trouble placing who the band was. It sure didn’t SOUND like Black Sabbath, musically or vocally. Once I had worked out the story behind the album, I made sure that he recorded it for me on my own C90 cassette that I offered him. This particular friend, who has been my brother-in-law now for over 30 years, remains a big fan of this album. I admire him for that in many ways.
I have had a difficult journey with this album over the years. I actually think that discovering it when I did has helped me accept it more than I might have had it been later on. At that time I was in the middle of two years where I was trying to discover and digest as much music in this new genre that I had found as I could, and anything remotely interesting I grabbed on to and listened to. And while this was certainly not as heavy as most of the music I was getting in to, it was still ‘labelled’ as Black Sabbath. And probably because I was enjoying bands such as Bon Jovi and Europe as much as I was Metallica and Iron Maiden at the time, I found I could listen to this and enjoy it as well. But I won’t deny that it wasn’t all that I hoped for. I first listened to this album a short while after finding “Heaven and Hell” and “Mob Rules” and “Paranoid”, so in comparison to those albums, it just wasn’t even in the same weight category. I listened to it and enjoyed it, but it was like comparing Dom Perignon to Blowhole Spumante (and that is a Kiama reference that most of you will not know, but I think will understand).
Why didn’t Glenn Hughes also play bass on the album? My guess is that his bass playing is too funky to incorporate into the songs Tony was writing, and that they needed a more mainstream style. But it also begs another question as to why this doesn’t sound like a Black Sabbath album. Because of Geezer Butler. As important and necessary as Tony Iommi is to making a Black Sabbath album sound like Black Sabbath – and a lot of Iommi’s guitaring here is fairly generic and his soloing is kept to a minimum, which given it is his greatest source of drawing in the fans is a little strange - I’ve always believed the same is true of Geezer Butler. Without his iconic bass sound, the songs lack the energy and drive to make them that good. Of course, this was not meant to be called a Black Sabbath album, was it?
If only this album could be re-recorded. Not now, of course, but if Iommi and Hughes had decided to do this all over again when they got back together in the mid-2000’s and added the kind of energy and power the songs deserved, this could be a far better and more enjoyable album. Just listening to it again this week, that much has been obvious. Better production, more passion in the songs. It wouldn’t have made it a world beater, but I think it would have found a way to better showcase the strengths that some of these songs do possess.
As one of two stand-alone albums away from the Ozzy Osbourne, Dio and Tony Martin eras of the band, “Seventh Star” suffers from mis-direction of the band name and the turmoil that went with the band members and tour that followed. Hughes was fired just six gigs into the tour and replaced by Ray Gillen, who if you listen to the remastered version of this album has the live songs from that tour, where Gillen sounds magnificent. Of course, he was then fired while recording the next album, so the turmoil had continued past this album.
My vinyl copy has been on my turntable in the Metal Cavern again this week, and I still enjoy listening to it. And as I am sure has become obvious over the course of this episode, I don’t listen to it as a Black Sabbath album. I listen to it as the first of the Iommi/Hughes collaborations, which eventually stretched to the 1996 DEP Sessions and then 2005’s “Fused” album. Songs like “In for the Kill”, “Turn to Stone” and “Danger Zone” are still as enjoyable to me as they were back in 1986. And yes, “No Stranger to Love” is still a completely average track. Yeah, look, I still sing along to it every time I listen to this album, but I feel dirty doing it. I love both Iommi and Hughes, but I still can’t abide by the power ballad. It is a conundrum.
If you take “Seventh Star” as a non-Sabbath album you will find it is worth a listen, flawed as it may be. There are pieces still worth a listen, even if it is as an historical reference. If you want to hear what Hughes and Iommi can REALLY do together, find a copy of “Fused”. It tears this to pieces.

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.

1332. UFO / The Wild, the Willing and the Innocent. 1981. 3.5/5

The band UFO had had a terrifically successful decade through the 1970’s, with high selling and iconic albums and songs driven by the band’s excellent twin guitar and keyboard attack. This success had culminated in the brilliant live album “Strangers in the Night” in 1979, which also signified the end of that particular era of the band with the departure of volatile genius guitarist Michael Schenker. In his place, the band had brought in a former short term guitarist in Paul Chapman, whose contributions both on guitar and in writing were a solid substitute for Schenker. The first album released with this line up of the band was 1980’s “No Place to Run”, an album that ha its own review way back on episode 4 of this podcast, for those that are interested in its story.
Following the tour to support the album, Paul Raymond, the band’s keyboardist, rhythm guitarist and supporting vocals, left the band. He instead, he chose to follow his former bandmate and join his band The Michael Schenker Group, in time to record and tour on their second album “MSG”. This left the band in a predicament. The band was lined up to play the Reading Festival on 23 August 1980, when the band played as the Saturday night headliner. For this gig, former Wild Horses' keyboard player Neil Carter replaced Raymond. But when it came to writing and recording for the band’s new album, he was not the first choice. In an interview after the album was released, Paul Chapman was quoted as saying:
"We produced the album ourselves with nobody breathing over our shoulders. The only problem was it cost twice as much because we kept changing studios and rerecording stuff. I tried to get John Sloman involved because he could sing, play keyboards and guitar, and was just out of Lone Star like me. He did play on the Wild album, but most of the keyboards are by the brother of the engineer Gary Edwards – until Phil sacked him. We finished that album without a keyboard player, then got Neil Carter in later."
So despite Neil Carter being listed on the album as having played on it, it was a combination of Slocum and Edwards who played the keyboards, with Chapman recording all of the guitars.
“No Place to Run” had been seen to be a good album rather than a great one, and now the band had the chance to show that they were not a one trick pony, and produce a follow up album that would showcase the best parts of the individuals within the group. That album was released almost a year later to the day, and was called “The Wild, the Willing and the Innocent”.

I did read somewhere that someone compared this album to being a conundrum, because it sounds like side A and side B are two completely different albums, and that isn’t a bad analogy.
“Chains Chains” opens up the album with the heavily blues slide distorted guitar from Paul Chapman, and then settles smack bang into the atypical Mogg/Way written tracks from UFO that you expect to hear. Pete Way’s bass guitar comes through beautifully on this track and provides the basis for Phil Mogg to beautify the track with his wonderful vocal line. The follow up is an interesting combination of factors that create a fallowed mix. The instrumental and orchestral pieces in “Long Gone” are an interesting touch to the track, but I fear for my own likes, the slower quieter opening passages before breaking out into the faster more powerful places of the song are what drive me to distraction. The drawing on the band’s 1970’s ideology certainly keeps the song relevant to the album and the band, and I’ve always believed it is one of those tracks that gets better as you listen to it more, but I do also have some reservations over it. The title track “The Wild, the Willing and the Innocent” settles into its mid tempo early on and just chugs along throughout with the best UFO vibes you can imagine as a fan. The chorus though feels mutilated by the out of places ‘ooh ooh oh oh’ backing up Phil Mogg’s lead vocal. The riff itself from Chapman is catchy and chunky and his chugging riff also suits the style that UFO like to create. The chorus though, that makes me cringe a little every time I hear it. Despite this small crack, Mogg’s vocals throughout drive this song in his wonderful way, the power of his singing through the verses here is outstanding. The fade out of this track then segues with the closing track on Side A, “It’s Killing me” which actually fades in for the beginning of the track, and you are struck once again of the fact that it is drawing in those influences from 1970’s contemporary rock, almost AOR sounding. Paul Chapman very much more of a contemporary 70’s guitar sound, not as flashy or individualistic as the band’s previous guitarist was. He has brought more of his own sound into this album, and yet it is interesting that this song is a Mogg/Way composition without his contribution to the writing, and the very laid back and ‘laisse fare’ attitude of the sound and tempo of the song brings a different tone and atmosphere to the first side of the album. In all of my reading of reviews and fans opinions on this album, it continues to surprise me that not only is there a large opinion out there that this is one of the best UFO albums if not the best, that this first side of the album is the best that UFO ever released.
Side 2 opens with the quiet and almost acoustic opening that channels the opening of “Doctor Doctor” all those years ago before breaking back into Chapman’s typical guitar riffing mixed with the melodic bass line from Way that is the basis of the song. “Makin’ Moves” indeed does just this, a song that is reminiscent of the style of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal movement of the time without the true push into a metal form, retaining the band’s 1970’s roots instead. Mixing things up the band opens the following track with the keys, again reminiscent of older UFO tracks. “Lonely Hearts” contains the most prominent keyboard sound of any song on the album, something that has always been a part of the charm of the band. Here without a hired keyboardist in the band, the songs have a much more guitar-heavy composition with Chapman taking more prominence. The solid yet simple rhythm of the track reverberates throughout the length of the song, holding its own along its pathway. “Couldn’t Get It Right” bases its form by the rhythmic drum beat from Any Parker and also Pete Way on bass once again, induced along by hand claps and the chanting vocals. The album then concludes with “Profession of Violence”, driven by the keys and orchestration from the beginning, the ballad of the album. UFO have been able to write amazing songs of this type in their history which have a substance that creates their status as legendary tracks. This isn’t a bad song, but it also doesn’t have enough about it to truly create the atmosphere and adulation that would give it a pass mark on this or any other album. Essentially, it just seems a little too… dull… compared to the great movements and writing inspiration that those albums had. And for the most part, that is true in too many places on this album.

My story of the discovery of UFO has been aired before on this podcast and also the podcast that preceded it, and involves in the main the purchase of a compilation album called “The Michael Schenker Anthology” while in my first year of university in 1988, one that culled songs from his career with the Scorpions, with his own band The Michael Schenker Group, and also his work with UFO. That album is one I loved and played to a standstill, and it eventually directed me to the five amazing albums he produced with the band during the 1970’s, ones I came to love just as much.
Chasing down and listening to the albums beyond this was not a priority at the time. It became something I did much later on, well beyond the years that those albums were released. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested as such, it was just that it was Schenker that I had originally come for, and then he had gone. It eventually became my task to find and listen to the rest of the UFO discography, which of course did result in me tracking down “The Wild, the Willing and the Innocent”. And I think my opinion of the album has been best expressed here already. It doesn’t create much enthusiasm. It hasn’t got the inspiration of their earlier albums. It has some good pieces here that are enjoyable, and the musicianship is not under question, because each of Phil Mogg, Pete Way, Andy Parker and Paul Chapman are excellent once again. But it just hasn’t got the spark about it that their great songs and albums contain. Is this perhaps because of the fact that the band produced it themselves, and that they were in and out of studios too often rather than knuckling down and truly creating what they needed to make this album work? It is possible. And let me also add this - on my review for “No Place to Run” I spoke about whether or not this is a good or average album, in comparing it to the albums being released that year by up and coming hard rock and metal acts it was a tough gig. And that could be seen to be true here once again. 1981 had, for instance, Ozzy Osbourne’s “Diary of a Madman”, Iron Maiden’s “Killers”, Def Leppard’s “High N Dry” and Black Sabbath’s “Mob Rules”, just to mention a small sample size. Again, all four of those albums had a spark and an energy about them that was continuing to push their name forward. This album doesn’t have anything like that.
I have had this album on again for periods over the past few weeks, and I’ll say it again here that I still enjoy listening to this album, despite the many flaws I think it possesses. That comes from a love of the band itself and a tolerance for the differing levels of excellence that they portrayed over their career. But it also reiterated to me that it doesn’t hold a candle to their great albums, despite my mentioning earlier of the great love some of the fandom has for this album. For me it is an average album. Good, if you really want to press me hard on it. The fact that it is so very highly regarded by so many long term UFO fans is a little bewildering to me. But hey, opinions vary greatly, and if mine does here with some of you out there, then I offer you my sympathies. We can’t be in agreement or disagreement all the time.