Welcome back to The Lazarus Pit, a look back at should-be classic records that don’t get nearly enough love.

You know the cover, because it’s an outrageous documentation of straight-to-VHS art circa mid-’80s, but you might not know the tunes on Torch’s second album, 1984’s Electrikiss. Sure, the Swedish band’s self-titled from the year before had a bit more steel to it, but this one is actually more fun because it tries for a more mainstream sound, like Lizzy Borden or Tokyo Blade taking on just-before-Turbo-era Judas Priest, and while the result is a bit stiff and awkward at times, man, I’ll be damned if it’s not a blast to listen to.

Opening anthem “Thunderstruck” is low-grade Priest—fuck yeah it’s low-grade Priest—but it’s awesome. Really, what makes this so endearing now, all these years later, is the fact that it is kinda low-grade. Despite the slight feeling of reaching-for-success and the accompanying desperation that always goes with that, this song rules. I mean, if reaching for success in 1984 meant ripping off Priest, that’s victory, that’s a world I want to live in. Fuck yeah, “Thunderstruck.”

The title track casts a nervous eye over to Accept, Torch realizing Balls to the Wall is one of the greatest albums ever as they lay down an opening riff that has more than a bit of a hard-on for that album’s riffs. Of course the vocals are more dead-serious Halford than they are anything else, and it works again, the chorus exploding in pure arena-metal glory, the song a shoulda-been of the highest order.

“Hot on Your Heels” picks up the pace for a brisk stomp through what is really just kinda there, I dunno, decent enough chorus but the song as a whole offering more of a statement about the glory of even this second-tier trad metal stuff (and I do believe there’s a glory there, in attitude, in passion, and, sure, in nostalgia), the song racing past and falling a bit short at the important third-song mark.

“Runnin’ Riot” is awesome, Torch punching way above their weight here, if you count their weight through the head-shaking album covers that adorned both this and their debut, the song delivering a classy, molten-metal, mid-paced Priest/Accept attack, another one that borders on anthem, bonkers solo included for extra value for your dollar (which, as memory serves, was precisely the bin where we here in Canada could find the domestic Banzai releases of records like this back in the day).

“Vicious Love” is a smart stomper of way to end off side one, the band marching off to war, but no war in particular, just marching, stomping, trying to avoid being forgotten in time, mainly failing, yet, here we are.

“Bad Girls” kicks off side B with an economic rocker, file next to “Hot on Your Heels” but with a bit more frenetic energy to it, the band only bothering for 2:27, then calling it a day/song. Love the relentless tempo, kinda love the dumb lyrics; not much to dislike here. Ditto for “Cut-Throat Tactics,” man, the band delivering pretty regal metal, clawing for the top tier, slightly understated vocals being the only thing really stopping this one from attaining full metal glory. And you see what’s happening here? We’ve only got two tracks left and it’s just absolutely solid metal through and through, even the lesser songs on Electrikiss still being worthy of spending some time with.

“When the Going Gets Tough” (guess the next line of the chorus, I dare you) is another mid-to-speedy rocker, this one with some added atmosphere with a slightly mellower guitar effect during the verse, then the pre-chorus has a big, wide-open groove of a riff that works, Torch totally doing better than we all remember them doing here. Another win.

“Limelight” ends it all off with an opening riff that sounds just like another opening riff that I can’t quite place (but smart money says it’s either Priest or Accept) and the band quickly goes into melodies that work perfectly for a closing song, creating this feeling of finality, of closure, of, shit, maybe something bigger than what we were all expecting just happened. Cue the fake-out ending, cue the real, weird, sudden ending, and you’ve got a surprisingly above-par traditional metal record clocking in at a brisk 30:10 in nine songs, which is just how I like it.

Torch do a lot right on Electrikiss, and it’s a shame that the album cover is probably what this is most remembered for because, even though I would never want the band to have put anything else on there, the tunes are way, way better than the naïve, youthful, idealistic art suggests. Actually, the tunes are exactly what the naïve, youthful, idealistic art suggests, which is precisely why they hold up so well today, the band tapping into the core—warts and all—of what made metal the best music in the world then and what makes metal the best music in the world now.

The post The Lazarus Pit: Torch’s ‘Electrikiss’ appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

Clearly, we’ve got a bit of a thing for the first time that Ronnie James Dio and Black Sabbath joined forces, as we inducted 1980’s Heaven and Hell into our Hall of Fame back in 2008, and now we’ve tossed its follow-up, 1981’s Mob Rules, in there as well. It makes sense that both full-lengths that Dio appeared on during his debut stint with the legends have ended up in our hallowed halls: they are both incredible albums.

We ranked the songs on Heaven and Hell from worst to best back in 2015, and today we’re going to celebrate the recent induction of Mob Rules into our Hall (grab a copy of the issue today) by ranking its songs from worst to best. Sit back and get ready to listen to fools, because this mob rules.

9. E5150

Somewhere between “instrumental interlude” and “something to do with Van Halen” in my cluttered mental notes sits this neglected number, which really works quite well between album heavy hitters “The Sign of the Southern Cross” and the almost-title track, “E5150” just some noisy stuff, some goofy stuff, and some cool guitar stuff, a nice breather in between a couple of metal classics, but it belongs nowhere else but the bottom of today’s list.

8. Country Girl

Haha, man, we really gotta come to terms with the fact that this song is brain-dead stuff lyrically, but luckily the lumbering, rockin’-doom riffing and classy caveman drumming make up for it, “Country Girl” kicking off side B of this record with, I dunno, a bit of a toss-off, but, like I say, that riffing and complementary drumming is just too good to pass on, even if the song’s conceit was one I could just never fully commit to.

7. Slipping Away

One of a few songs on here that are more philosophically aligned with a hair metal scene that hadn’t happened yet, “Slipping Away” grooves along with a massive stutter-step of a shuffle, Vinny Appice more than proving his worth here, as he does throughout this whole album, the man’s skills a pleasure to listen to. This song, well, I wouldn’t call it a Sab classic, and I’m not sold on some of those vocal melodies in the chorus, but when it plays, what, are you not air drumming along to it? Of course you are.

6. Voodoo

Not sure I’ve ever heard a great song that has “Voodoo” in the title, but rock and metal bands just gotta keep trying, so here we have it, easily one of the best songs working this absurd theme, slinky Iommi riff absolutely taking care of business behind a killer Dio vocal performance. Love the mid tempo after opener “Turn Up the Night”’s big-city-night party.

5. Falling Off the Edge of the World

I always liked this late-album cut, starting off powerful and dirgey and then going into a galloping stomper, hitting into that mid-to-fast stride that this version of Sabbath did so well, so brisk and economically. Also features one of Dio’s great vocal lines and melodies. Love it, and it leads into cool closer “Over and Over” perfectly.

4. Over and Over

Speaking of which, here we have it, the monolithic closer, maybe the most classic-Sabbath sounding of all this album’s tunes, “Over and Over” ending things off morosely, perfectly, proving that the Appice-backed configuration of the band could indeed handle low and slow with much grace and ease, even though lots of the stuff we remember from this album is more four-on-the-floor hot-rockin’. Majestic guitar solo, great drumming, killer vibe.

3. Turn Up the Night

I mean, it basically could open one of three or so ’80s KISS albums, but/which is why it rules, “Turn Up the Night” rocking hard and dumb, concise and fast, like “Paranoid” having a good time drunk on the highway in LA in the ’80s versus on downers in a factory in London in the ’70s. Look, we love it, it’s a classic; could anyone have written and played it? Sure, but they didn’t, and it’s awesome.

2. The Mob Rules

Well, hard to argue this one, the concise 3:15 of this rocking extremely hard, very “Turn Up the Night” but with more brains, great lyrics, riff perfection. It’s hard to overstate how great this is as a rock song, a Sab classic, just a perfect little nugget of pure metal might. I love “The Mob Rules” and you probably do too, the song right up there with the title track of this album’s predecessor when it comes to essential Sabbath songs you just gotta use to spread the good word.

1. The Sign of the Southern Cross

Oh, man, “The Sign of the Southern Cross,” this is such a massive, huge song, maybe the greatest and most Sabbatherian accomplishment of the first Dio era of Sabbath, everything lumbering, dooming, sludging, but also being totally catchy and memorable, a great song drenched in classic, traditional metal, glorious, regal doom. Love the drum work here, and another classic performance behind the mic from our man.

The post Hall of Fame Countdown: Black Sabbath’s “Mob Rules” appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

Primitive Origins is a column where we’ll look back at proto-metal and early metal that deserves a bit of your battered eardrum’s attention. We’re keeping it loose and easy here: there’s no strict guidelines other than it’s gotta be old, it helps if it’s obscure, and it’s gotta rock out surprisingly hard for its context. Pscyh-ed out proto-metal from the late ’60s? Of course. Early attempts at doom metal from the ’70s? Hell yeah. Underground Soviet metal from the early ’80s? Sure. Bring it on. Bring it all on.

Today we turn the clock back to a record from 1978 that features cover artwork that could stand toe to toe with anything here in 2021. Zarpa Rock’s Los 4 Jinetes del Apocalipsis (put your metalhead translator on and I think you can figure out what that translates to). This Spain-based band was totally off our radar until Guerssen Records recently reissued this; mighty hails to Guerssen, who reissue lots of great, forgotten proto-metal.

This one is five heavy psych/in-the-red near-doom songs in 35:15, and it works. Read on to find out more about this metalhead-worthy album from Zarpa Rock (who are still a going concern today, known as just Zarpa).

The title track kicks things off and is awesome, the fuzzed-out, raw production sounding low budget but totally working, colluding with the cover art to create this kinda horrible atmosphere that I dig. It’s heavy psych, but it’s got doomy overtones; the sonics aren’t quite at Sabbath levels of heaviness but the vibe is. The guitar solo section slows it down for a very doom-ridden interlude, and I’m loving it.

“La Contaminación” is next, and starts off a bit too happy-rock-and-rolly for me, but dips into a slow psych drip soon enough, the band continually working between stoned-hard-psych and stoned-proto-doom on these songs, with much success. There’s some boogie-woogie chord changes here that are just nails on a chalkboard to me, although the crashing and bashing guitar and drum interplay that comes in at 3:45 is excellent.

Every one of the five songs on this record is longer than the last, with middle cut “Llega La Destrucción” clocking in at 6:40 (the last tune is just north of nine minutes), but it’s worth it, the band taking some time to stretch out and go low and slow here, the song rooted in a sort of ugly blues rock but managing to be its own beast entirely. The vocals swoon and careen pretty out of control, but it, somehow, manages to add to the atmosphere. Another winner, and I can’t say enough good things about the production, half the sounds in the red, those cymbals just crashing way too loud, the energy apparent: it’s perfect.

“Le Guerra Cruel” isn’t a Brujeria song title, and the acoustic intro sure as hell isn’t extreme in any sense. It could have been cut from this 8:22 tune and the world would have kept turning, but, might as well just axe the entirety of it, because much of the song is pretty agonizing, the band attempting a sort of soft-touch soft-rock here that manages to check off no boxes at all along the way for anyone. It does pick up into something respectable but takes like five minutes to get there, at which point everyone just thinks it’s a different song. And it’s not a bad song, although it’s a bit too middling and extended-guitar-soloing, but it does feature some of the speediest tempos on the record so it’s not a total write-off.

“El Hambre” starts off on a mellow note, but it’s not soft-rock pandering, it’s trippy, the-acid-is-wearing-off doom-adjacent heavy psych, the band hunkering down and creating a pretty great, uh, trip here, a slow burn and a slow build that climaxes into a pretty fantastic straight-ahead hard rocker to wind the album down. It’s a smart closer, the song bringing us to the finish line in a manner that feels like a concept album is ending, which—surprise—it is: this album is indeed a concept album, although what the concept is is beyond me. Something to do with either severed hands or the four horsemen of the apocalypse, I’m guessing.

Doesn’t matter: this album rules, has lots for today’s metalheads to enjoy and is totally Decibel-approved.

Zarpa Rock’s Los 4 Jinetes del Apocalipsis – The Decibel breakdown:

Do I need to be stoned to listen to this?: No, but it might add to it.

Heaviness factor: Pretty heavy in sonics, quite heavy in production, super heavy in vibe.

Obscura Triviuma: Legend has it that this record was recorded in one take, in a 90-minute recording session.

Other albums: Yes, as Zarpa, they have a million other albums.

Related bands: Sable, Parking Fox (also, stop naming all bands now, you’ll never beat that).

Alright, fine, if you must: Something ill-advised that you’ve never heard of that might harm you.

The post Primitive Origins: Zarpa Rock’s ‘Los 4 Jinetes del Apocalipsis’ appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

Fight Fire with Fire is an ongoing series on our site where we pit two classic genre albums against each other to definitively figure out which one is better. “But they’re both great!” you’ll say. Yes, these albums are the best of the best. But one is always better. Plus, we love these sorts of exercises, and also love watching you battle each other to the death in the comments, so how could this possibly end poorly?

We’ve dealt with death metal in this column; we’ve taken on classic/trad metal; we’ve put grindcore classics against each other. But we haven’t really taken a look at the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM) yet. The movement has some drop-dead classics, no doubt about it, and today we’re going to take a close look at two of them and face them off to see which one stands the test of time better.

In 1980, Def Leppard released their debut album, On Through the Night. It’s a great piece of NWOBHM, but the next year’s follow-up, High ‘n’ Dry, is incredible, the band taking their songwriting wonder and refining it to a perfect point; sure, one could argue that point got even sharper on 1983’s ultramega smash Pyromania, which has sold over 10 million copies in the US alone, but High ‘n’ Dry is the perfect mix of hunger and songwriting prowess (the band would lose more and more of the former as they took the latter to a place of alarming perfection over their next couple of albums).

Then we have Diamond Head, who are more than a little well-known because of Metallica’s relentless love for them. In 1980, the band released their debut full-length, Lightning to the Nations; of the seven songs on the album, Metallica have covered five of them (you can find four of those covers on Garage Inc.), and you are intimately familiar with at least three of those. So, even if you’ve never spun this album, which would be a mistake, you still know, like, half of it. Which means you know that it’s majestic NWOBHM, heavier and more ambitious than the Leps, a record that absolutely helped pave the way for thrash as it doubled down on its hard NWOBHM sound.

So, we’ve got two albums that are sort of similar but mainly very different takes on a particular subgenre of metal, two albums that we should all know and love, two albums that today must duke it out in the ultimate NWOBHM Fight Fire with Fire showdown.

Def Leppard – High ‘n’ Dry

High ‘n’ Dry is an absolutely perfect record when you want some melodic, driving, hard rock/metal that has a decent amount of bite to it. There is youthful energy all over this thing, and every one of its 10 songs is a winner; there’s no filler to be found here.

“Let It Go” is an incredible opener, the band laying down killer riff upon killer riff to create an unforgettable, brisk NWOBHM anthem. It’s hard to not shed a tear for what Def Lep once were when listening to this amazing rock song, the cowbell breakdown in the middle even ruling, the melodic riff that bursts up after it ruling even harder. Argh, I can barely handle how good this is.

I can also barely handle how good “Another Hit and Run”’s opening riff is, the Leps the master of melody already at this point, the moody song absolutely doing everything it set out to do, the riffs uplifting like the best metal/hard rock should, vocals totally nailing it, the guitar work nothing short of NWOBHM perfection.

Kinda-title track “High ‘n’ Dry (Another Saturday Night)” is about as 1981 feel-good as rock can get, and also introduced a young me to the idea of “whiskey and wine,” not that I knew what either was. But I did know riffs that made me feel like a king, and this song’s got an overflow of ’em.

“Bringin’ on the Heartbreak,” man, I always misplace this song as being one, maybe even two (believe it) albums later into Lep’s career (this confusion is probably a result of the band releasing a synthy version of this in 1984, to go with a reissue of this album post-Pyromania), but here we are, despite my odd mental block, enjoying this early victory taking on the power ballad that this band would end up leaning painfully hard on later in life. But, c’mon: like Warrant’s ballads, I can’t sit here and pretend to hate on this. “Bringin’ on the Heartbreak” is awesome.

And then to have “Switch 625,” an absolutely killer sorta-instrumental segue right into the ending of “Heartbreak” was bloody brilliant, the band managing to with that single move create this feeling of importance, of party rock made art, of something important playing out before your ears as you slam back one more beer in the beautiful, beautiful summer of ’81. Or the spring of ’21, where it still sounds fantastic. Love this one, starts out rocking and slow burns up to harder rocking before it burns out, first half of the album over, seriously impressing every time.

That’s a perfect side A, but side B ain’t no slouch either, starting off with “You Got Me Runnin’,” the chorus of which might have just popped into your head after reading those words, which means, hey, they got something right. The big, open riffs also are alright, the song just forward momentum, glorious NWOBHM, pre-chorus showing some serious vocal display over some hot-lickin’ riffs. Could have been the first song on the album and it would have worked just fine.

“Lady Strange” presents as a deep cut, placed as track 7 of 10, but, holy shit: “Lady Strange” is a total killer, the foreboding riffs, the sense of restraint, the “bring on the arenas” songwriting, and then, at 2:25, when things take a turn toward Maiden turf, shit gets real. This is one of the band’s finest moments, from the chorus to the sudden galloping.

I always, for some reason, didn’t like “On Through the Night”’s chorus that much, plus it always just brings up too many questions for me when a band places a song that has the name of their previous album on a record (looking at you, Propagandhi). But the verses storm the gates and it’s one of the most aggressive vocal performances on the record, so it’s still a win.

“Mirror, Mirror (Look Into My Eyes)” is pushing it with the parenthetic titles that really don’t need to exist, but what a song, verses getting quiet but nowhere near balladeering, and that chorus is actually one of the best on a record full of show-stopping choruses. Amazing late-album burst of “holy shit” here.

“No No No” (looking at you, KISS) ends the album off with actually what is the weakest cut on the album, this one feeling a bit like a toss-off, but it does end the disc with a promise of even heavier albums to come, a promise that was, of course, never fulfilled, but that doesn’t matter, High ‘n’ Dry being the perfect amount of heavy from a band that had songwriting down head-shakingly well for such a young group, this record totally putting together everything great about early-’80s metal and hard rock, with just enough NWOBHM spit and bite to it (and by “just enough,” I mean, “I’ve been revisiting it for decades because I want just a touch more, which means they got it just fucking right”).

The worst thing about this record is trying to figure out if the “n” in the middle of the title should be capitalized or not when I type it (admittedly, no small bone of contention). Otherwise, unreal, 10 songs, 42 minutes, total rock perfection. Can Diamond Head top this with their masterful Lightning to the Nations?

Diamond Head – Lightning to the Nations

Alright, that was a lot of me going berserk over Def Leppard, so let’s get a bit heavier here and hop over to Lightning to the Nations.

Now, the first thing that always gets me about this album is the daunting song lengths; with only three songs on side A and four on side B, the record still manages to be just, like, 40 seconds shorter than High ‘n’ Dry, so that right there lets you know that you’ve gotta be in the mood for something a bit more demanding than the ready-for-anyone rock the Leps laid down on their second album.

And if you’re up for the challenge, man, the title track opens the record majestically, it being one of three songs here that are of reasonable length, the band offering up a looming intro before the two-step shuffle NWOBHM boogie begins, the song surprisingly light on its feet for a record that spawned “Am I Evil?” Great riffing, and fun, unpredictable but not alienating songwriting skills on display here, this opener managing to be both punter-friendly (the chorus just screams pre-show beer in the parking lot) and musician-approved with its slightly darker tone and more advanced playing. Approved, killer opener.

“The Prince” is up next, and we all know Metallica’s version of this totally rules, and it’s also totally two minutes shorter than the original, which helps. At 6:24, the song wears out its welcome a bit, but, I mean, we can just zone out for a minute or two during those extended instrumental breaks and just wait for the absolutely killer verses and choruses to come back—it’s worth the wait, and the closing glory-ride guitar heroics are awesome, too.

“Sucking My Love,” all 9:27 of it, closes off side A, and the opening riff rules, classic NWOBHM sounds, and when the song is rocking, man, it’s rocking, but when the band go “Whole Lotta Love” on us and start drifting aimlessly in the middle, it’s not so much a buildup to a climax as it is just taking a long time to… well, it gets somewhere, sure, but not where I want a song to get to after that long. Again, cut the crap and it’s awesome.

Also awesome is “Am I Evil?” but we all know that. Look, at 7:39, the song is just too long; that intro is insufferable, and if the song was a lean and mean 3:15 I’d probably love it even more. But, I love “Am I Evil?”’s riffs, I love the chorus, I love the verses, I love the vocal lines, I just love it. And, fine, I even love the insufferable intro, but I’m never going to admit that to a large reading audience (oops).

“Sweet and Innocent” may be the only song here that we don’t all have ready to go in our brains on a moment’s notice, but it’s a fun, Saxon-y boogie rocker that shows that Diamond Head indeed know how to keep it simple stupid when they need to. Ditto for the mighty “It’s Electric,” a fantastic, brisk, mighty rocker. I wish the band would have put the glory of songs like “The Prince” and “Am I Evil?” into these shorter structures, because it absolutely would have worked wonders. However, the mix of the two types of songs makes for a nice variety and actually keeps the album moving along at an enjoyable pace.

“Helpless” ends things off, and, yeah, it’s another massive victory, the band racing to the finish line here with a song full of classic riffs and vocal lines, right up there with “The Prince” on both counts. This could be the album’s finest moment, but, to be honest, we’re talking about a record filled with classics.

Lightning to the Nations is clearly a more difficult listen than High ‘n’ Dry, so a lot of this comes down to mood. These albums occupy different sonic and mental territory, but at the end of it all, they’re both NWOBHM records and today we need to determine which is better. Will it be the hard-rockin’ glory of Def Leppard or the more ambitious sounds of Diamond Head?

It’s probably obvious by this point, but one of these two records has emerged loud ‘n’ clear as the winner, and it’s not just because they have very little in common sonically, anchored together more by common musical ancestry. No, it’s because High ‘n’ Dry is an absolute masterpiece of NWOBHM-inflected rock, the band getting every single thing right on it, the record still making the listener feel like they can conquer the world, or at least conquer another beer, Def Leppard for the win today in Fight Fire with Fire with an album that doesn’t know the meaning of the word “lose,” an album that is nothing less than total rock victory.

The post Fight Fire with Fire: ‘High ‘n’ Dry’ vs. ‘Lightning to the Nations’ appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

Welcome back to The Lazarus Pit, a look back at should-be classic records that don’t get nearly enough love.

Today, we’re going to take a closer look at Omen’s 1984 debut, Battle Cry. This Los Angeles-based trad/old-school-power metal band—who are actually still a going concern—did a lot right here on this album; if Metal Blade, no small beans in ’84, saw fit to release it, they had to be on the right track… not that every record that came out then and there was a winner, of course. But Omen were on to something here, and it wasn’t just the amazing cover art, which I loved as a kid and I still love to this day.

Opener “Death Rider” absolutely kills it, the band taking no prisoners with that chorus, one for the ages, Omen flirting with era-appropriate trad underground metal and a more mainstream-ready, opening-for-Priest sound here. What a perfect way to get the album started, this song totally a classic for a certain sub-section of longhairs, and for good reason.

“The Axeman” ups the gallop percentage quite a bit as the band hops over to opening for Maiden with this dramatic tale of some axeman or another who you are to bow down to, another killer chorus, stoopid and charming intro, solid, workmanlike playing throughout.

“Last Rites” threatens to go speed metal but instead ends up back in a melodic, thespianic-trad sonic sphere, and, man, it rules. So does “Dragon’s Breath,” at this point the band settling in to a kind of moody, mid-tempo trad sound that doesn’t get too heavy yet would be a bit unsettling for the average, say, Dokken fan of the time. But the average Armored Saint fan, well, they might have been on board to use this as a stepping stone to some heavier sounds. Approved. It’s all approved.

“Be My Wench” closes off side A with a much faster tempo and an absurd song title, the band laying down great riff after great riff here, everything locked in nice and tight.

The title track kicks off side B and continues what the band has established by this point that they do so well, heavy on vibe and spirit; even if the production and vocals aren’t exactly 10 out of 10s, they fit the music perfectly and, in some ways, if they were better, this would be worse. Everything just makes sense here, on this song, on this album.

“Die by the Blade” is about as metal a song title you could get in 1984, and it still makes me mutter “Fuck yeah” to myself under my breath here in 2021 when I see it come up as a song name, so I guess they got something right there. The song itself? Tie up those horses and get ready to gallop to glory.

“Prince of Darkness” holds the important keep-that-energy-up song-8-of-10 slot, and it does the trick perfectly, with another of the band’s speedier tempos backing up this old-school metal rager.

“Bring Out the Beast” is solid and sturdy, a dependable deep cut, and closer “In the Arena” kicks off will some ill-advised acoustics but then quickly enough hammers back into letting the hammers fall, with a suitably atmospheric and dramatic closer, one that ends the album with this slight sense of metal majesty that hangs in the air, waiting for the next listen of this shoulda-been-a-bit-more-classic album.

Look, I get that there’s just not enough hours in the day to call everything that we like a “classic” worthy of spending time with. I’m just saying this one doesn’t get mentioned quite as much as it should. Those in the know always give it a hefty horns up, yes, but the album should really be a bit more of a household name, at least in the sorts of households that Decibel readers live in, which are the sorts of places where sounds like this age like fine wine and are appreciated the way they should be: loud, and in reverence, and with a beer held high and a knowing smile on your headbanging face the entire time.

The post The Lazarus Pit: Omen’s ‘Battle Cry’ appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

Almost every band has that album: you know, the critically and/or commercially reviled dud in an otherwise passable-to-radical back catalogue. Occasionally, a Decibel staffer or special guest will take to the Decibel site to bitch and moan at length as to why everybody’s full of shit and said dud is, in fact, The Shit. This time around, Greg Pratt defends M.O.D.’s Surfin’ M.O.D.

Behind-the-scenes communiqués regarding this piece confirmed that I indeed have my work cut out for me (“Haha, GOOD LUCK, you will need it!”), but I’m up for the challenge of defending M.O.D.’s 1988 EP Surfin’ M.O.D. And it’s not just that I think some of the songs are legit good and the skits are actually not completely cringey, but I approach this like my recent justification of Discharge’s haywire-glam album: if that album was released today by Toxic Holocaust, we’d all love it. And you know what? If Municipal Waste released their Surfin’ Waste EP today and it was just Surfin’ M.O.D. re-recorded, we would be going apeshit over it. We would consider the skit parts to be hilarious and the tunes to be party-mosh worthy. Yet, no one sits around talking about how funny and how kinda-shredding Surfin’ M.O.D. actually is.

Let’s change that.

So, the meat of this thing is the 23-minute track “The Movie,” which is a series of skits broken up with songs. The fact that M.O.D. mainman Billy Milano thought to do this and then a label agreed to release it is just bonkers. It follows the adventures of our hapless couple Bill and Katrina, who go from carefree surfin’ youth to learning about the struggles of keeping a relationship together. Bill and Katrina are growing up before our ears… or at least Katrina is.

Or, I don’t fucking know, man, but it is moderately amusing to listen to.

Like I said, there are songs in “The Movie,” as well (the songs are also, helpfully, on the EP extracted from “The Movie”). “Surfin’ U.S.A.” is something I never need to hear again in any capacity, although I do find this version kinda fascinating just because I can’t really figure out if M.O.D. are making fun of it or covering it sorta irony-free. Either way, you’ve got Milano singing “Surfin’ U.S.A.” so you know it’s a good time.

“Surf’s Up” is an original that could completely be a Municipal Waste song and we’d love it: it’s surf rock delivered via crunchy crossover. It’s goofy but somehow works, especially during the awesome chorus. It’s fun crossover, and it’s fully justifiable.

“Sargent Drexell Theme” is insane and “Mr. Oofus,” well, nothing to see here, but “Party Animal” is close to “normal” M.O.D. and is a shredder, definitely a highlight here, along with the Scream cover that comes a bit later. This song reminds me how when M.O.D. weren’t screwing around—which was very rarely—they were able to toss off meaty crossover with the best of them.

A few covers close things off and I wish I didn’t even have to get into it, but we’ve got Chicago’s “Color My World,” which is actually kinda funny for one listen due to its absurdity, The Isley Brothers’ “Shout” (Jesus Christ this one goes on for way too long and kinda like “Black Betty” is just nails on a chalkboard to me, performed by anyone) (update: the more I listen to this while writing this article, the more hilarious it becomes that the band keeps this song going after it appears to stop… I grudgingly admit that that was well played, guys) and Scream’s “New Song” as a CD-only bonus track, which is a shame as it’s one of the best, and certainly most straight-up hardcore, tracks on here.

All I’m saying today is I call bullshit on anyone who scoffs at this but says Muncipal Waste—who have put out records tied together with equally outrageous concepts—are killer. The Waste are indeed killer, but let’s give respect where it’s due, to this most unlikely influencer of EPs, Surfin’ M.O.D. damn near singlehandedly paving the way for the inflatable-shark/neon-pizza party mosh devoured so wholeheartedly by many longhairs here in 2021.

In a sense, we’re rewriting history, because maybe some of the elder longhairs out there rolled their eyes at this one when it came out, but maybe, just maybe, if you squint your eyes hard enough, you can see that M.O.D. were far ahead of their time with Surfin’ M.O.D, the world finally ready here in a COVID-ravaged 2021 to have some good-time, surf-y crossover, Municipal Waste acting as unwitting messengers for the past two decades and overseeing us all slowly dipping our toes in the waters that Bill and Katrina would be happy to know we are finally willing to fully immerse ourselves in.

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Long-running metallic hardcore chaoticists Zao are dropping their new album, The Crimson Corridor, on April 9, so we thought we’d catch up with vocalist Dan Weyandt on the eve of the album’s release to find out what five heavy albums changed his life. Read on to learn more about what albums (“In no particular order,” Weyandt stresses) influenced our man’s lyric writing, vocal style and awkward bus rides to high school.

Passover – No Retreat/Passover (split) (1996)

I first started playing in a band shortly after high school, around 1995/1996. Honestly, looking back, I just wanted to hang out with friends and write songs that sounded like “Since Birth” and “Irreconcilable” (and every other song they had on that release). Passover provided the listener with relentless waves of powerful, chaotic dissonant riffs accompanied by serpentine vocals up front and spastic barking chaos filling in the cracks (as well as an awesome array of samples/spoken word). I honestly can’t believe they never became a household name within their genre. I listened to this record more than anything else available at the time. When this was released I was playing bass and doing a lot of backup vocals. I wanted to emulate the singer’s vocal style so badly. I started my journey into vocals by practicing alongside these songs, trying to emulate them the best I could.

Black Flag – Damaged (1981)

I was in middle school when a kid I knew from a local skate spot insisted I borrow this tape and check it out. I took it home, put on my headphones and was just blown away. This record was just ugly, honest chaos delivered with a frenzied passion. It was the first time I could remember hearing heavy music where the lyrics were deeply personal and sincere. “Rise Above,” “Depression” and “Life of Pain” showed me that music could be an creative outlet to express these type of thoughts/feelings. I felt connected to it and not as alone. I thought it was awesome an album could have that kind of power. When I started writing lyrics this was something I never forgot about and something I strived to include.

Iron Monkey – Iron Monkey (1996)

In the late ’90s, after being introduced to Iron Monkey’s music via a Church of Misery split I picked up their self-titled record. After listening to this record once, Iron Monkey instantly became one of my favorite bands to date and Johnny Morrow (RIP) instantly became one of my favorite vocalists (as well as a massive influence). Johnny was insanely good. He set the bar. It was the first time I heard high-pitched vocals with a ton of power behind them, unlike their black metal counterparts. This record was a crusher way ahead of its time. Pummeling, doomy stoner sludge with the most powerful, ripping high range vocals (that could dip into gnarly mids/lows) I’ve heard to this day. This album is killer front to back but the standouts to me are “Big Loader,” “Black Aspirin” and “666 Pack.”

Neurosis – Through Silver in Blood (1996)

It was around the time I joined Zao in that I was quickly introduced to not only Neurosis but this specific album. I then learned that Neurosis is their own genre and their own experience to be had. This album was dark and heavy in ways I had never heard before. It’s like it was haunted. This sounded like what panic attacks felt like. No band can come close to creating atmosphere like Neurosis. It was a toss-up if I would list this album or Times of Grace as my favorite album from them. One of the things that tipped the scales in favor of Through Silver in Blood was Dave Edwardson’s vocal performance at the end of “Locust Star.” I can’t even put into words how that end section makes me feel. It’s like the whole song builds just to serve that moment and then explodes with uncanny power. His voice/vocals are amazing and my all-time favorite low-range vocals in any heavy band.

Slayer – Seasons in the Abyss (1990)

I have always had crippling social anxiety. High school was a nightmare. Every morning in ninth grade I would chain smoke cigarettes and listen to “War Ensemble” over and over at the bus stop trying to psych myself up to deal with the nightmare of the upcoming school day. Then, on the bus I would space out and start bobbing my head to the riffage and by the time I would realize I was doing it, people would be staring and laughing at me. I really didn’t care, though—that record made fear melt away and replaced it with adrenaline. Every song on that record slays (no pun intended). I listened to the Seasons in the Abyss tape in my car for years, until it eventually snapped from wear. Side note: I always wished back in the day Slayer would have put out a doom-centric record where everything sounded like the title track of this album.

The post Five Heavy Albums that Changed My Life with Dan Weyandt of Zao appeared first on Decibel Magazine.

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