"Wonder had gone away, and he had forgotten that all life is only a set of pictures in the brain, among which there is no difference betwixt those born of real things and those born of inward dreamings, and no cause to value the one above the other."
--H.P. Lovecraft, The Silver Key
Let's get that out of the way first. If you only know Whitesnake from "Still of the Night" or "Here I Go Again," here's one to broaden your horizons. It's a deep-ish cut, very early 80s, with a bit of 70s keyboard hangover clinging on.
Which is great.
I am tired of conversations about genre. I shouldn't be I suppose, considering I wrote a book about one ... but I am. I just can't wade into anymore conversations about what is or isn't sword-and-sorcery.
This song is something of the reason why.
Is Whitesnake heavy metal? I mean, maybe? Maybe not?
It doesn't matter.
What matters is, is the song good. Does it rock? Does it get your head nodding?
Answer--yes. David Coverdale is killing it.
What matters about a story is, is the story good? Does it move you and keep the pages turning? Get that down first, let geeks like me sort out where it falls.
Genre is a vague signpost. If someone is a Bon Jovi fan or a Scorpions fan, Whitesnake is pretty dialed in to that. Very safe referral.
But even for Maiden and Priest fans like me, this is awesome.
CEOs of major tech companies with a very high IQ… and zero sense, and zero empathy. Sam Altman defending AI’s energy toll by saying it also takes a lot to ‘train a human.’ “It takes about 20 years of life – and all the food you consume during that time – before you become smart,” he says.
Chilling.
Being “smart” is the top of his hierarchy of values. And because of the theoretical unlimited computing power of a machine, we know where this leads.
Machine over man.
Intelligence ≠ wisdom.
Bruce Dickinson sang about this eloquently in “Darkside of Aquarius.” Powerfully too, but we expect that. It is Bruce, the human Air Raid Siren.
Peaceful existence and love of fellow man, as symbolized by the wheel of Dharma, is under assault from four apocalyptic hellriders. We've got 5 in the real world but close enough. I don’t put a lot of confidence in the soothsaying accuracy of astrological signs, but the Dark Side of Aquarius is a helpful heuristic here. It’s a psychological state characterized by extreme emotional detachment, stubbornness, and a tendency to be aloof or unpredictable. Intellect is prioritized over emotion. It celebrates "progress" over human flourishing.
When unbalanced, Aquarians can act coldly and ruthlessly, frequently using their intelligence to justify any action. A God complex.
The second hellrider came, from flaming seas and molten sands
Pipers playing Hell's commands
Poured out his poison, with his promises of promised lands
Blackened tongues of lying leaders
We need a silver surfer to save us from Galactus about now. This bit is in the song too.
I’ve also heard that it is a reference to Shakespeare’s “Macbeth,” but it’s too long since I’ve read that to comment. And I have to run to a brewery.
… ANYWAY, grim stuff but a great song. That transition at 4:38 … chills.
I have said before Bruce’s solo stuff is criminally underrated. Accident of Birth is an incredible album for which I need to do a deeper dive at some point. I've covered "Man of Sorrows" before and there is a lot more to mine from this album.
This morning while working out under heavy-ish iron I found myself able to recite every line of Orson Welles dramatic lead-in to “Defender.” Before he said it, in my best Wells impression.
I hadn’t heard this monologue in years. Yet I could speak it aloud without error. How? It was burned into my brain when I was 15 and ready to run through a brick wall for Manowar. I had to go to war against false metal, you see.
This has something to teach us about oral culture.
Imagine dudes hearing Njal’s Saga, or the Iliad, in some smoky Icelandic 14th century feasting hall on the eve of some great real battle, where on the morn they’d be standing in the shield-wall with spear and axe.
Imagine their emotional state, their focus, as they channeled the bard’s song. They’d remember every word. And pass it down to the next generation, without error.
Warrior stuff, that Welles channels here. Oral cultures remembered epic poetry through a system of formulaic phrasing, rhythmic structure, and thematic repetition rather than rote memorization. There is a rhythm to Welles’ phrasing that makes it stick, IMO.
Manowar isn’t known for subtlety, but it was a masterstroke to hire the legendary actor and filmmaker. Read more about how that unfolded here. I love this detail from Ross the Boss/Ross Friedman’s recounting of the story. Welles stepping out of his chariot and walking in the studio was like the coming of Odin:
“Let me tell you something, this man was a big man, Orson Welles, a huge guy in latter days,” Friedman recalled. “When he got out of the limousine … on 57th Street in Manhattan by the Carnegie – y’know, that neighborhood has some hot shit over there. When he stepped out into that neighborhood, women in mink coats were throwing themselves on him. It was just like ‘Oh, Orson, oh.’ It was like Frank Sinatra in the 40s. Seriously, I saw it with my own eyes. People were in awe of this man because he was so incredible.”
“He was a legendary guy, legendary maverick.”
“Defender” has likewise passed into metal legendry.
If you can’t get fired up for this song you might need to have your pulse checked by a professional. At the 1:50 mark I’m ready for battle. And ready to fight again at 4:12, after Ross’ ripping guitar solo, when Welles comes back in to echo Eric Adams’ powerhouse chorus.
If you haven’t heard it, fix that now.
Defender
Ride like the wind
Fight proud, my son
You’re the defender, God has sent
Manowar is still on my mind after the loss of Ross the Boss (how’s that for rhyme)? This picture of these two men, no longer with us at least on this material plane, moves me on this Metal Friday.
Raise a goblet to Ross and Welles and heavy metal and Manowar and oral poetry.
RIP Ross the Boss/Ross Friedman, co-founder and ex-guitarist of the mighty Manowar. Ross played on Manowar's classic first six albums, Battle Hymns through Kings of Metal.
The news hit today that he has passed into Valhalla, age 72. He was diagnosed with ALS last month.
In honor of his mighty legacy, "Mountains," from Sign of the Hammer.
The lyrics for this one are particularly on point.
Like a man is a mountainside
Greatness waits for those who try
None can teach you, it's all inside
Just climb
I am in the ground, I am in the air
I am all, I live in the hearts of men
I am the call to greatness, not all can hear
I awaken the creator in those who dare
And the day will come when we all must die
And enter the mountainside
Ross climbed the mountain and experienced life at its very peak.
He is where eagles fly, and will live on in the hearts of men.
There comes, even to kings, the time of great weariness. Then the gold of the throne is brass, the silk of the palace becomes drab. The gems in the diadem and upon the fingers of the women sparkle drearily like the ice of the white seas; the speech of men is as the empty rattle of a jester’s bell and the feel comes of things unreal; even the sun is copper in the sky and the breath of the green ocean is no longer fresh.
–Robert E. Howard, "The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune”
I love that quote (who doesn't?) from Robert E. Howard's Kull ... and I really dig this obscure but fun metal take from Arkham Witch.
Not exactly an artistic marvel of a song as the main riff overindulges in repetition ... but damn if I don't love it anyway. Great groove, gets the head banging. A boozy, dreamy, loose vibe to the whole thing that pairs well with the original hallucinogenic tale and its examination of philosophical questions regarding reality, identity, and existence.
Am I Kull?
This awesome little band wears its Weird Tales influences proudly. With songs like "The Lord of R'lyeh," "Dagon's Bell," "Crom's Mountain," and "Kult of Kutulu" you know what you're getting here.
Are these guys still a band? Last album, Demos from the Deep, seems to be from 2014 but let's hope so.
I've got to give Nostradamus a proper go one of these days. Proper go as in, listening dozens of times to the album in full, locked in a room by myself with naught but beer, notepad and pen, and my thoughts.
Admittedly I was ... skeptical when Judas Priest announced it was putting out a concept album based on the life and works of the famous 16th century French astrologer and seer. It just didn't seem to align with the talents of a band that wrote "Living After Midnight" and "Painkiller."
And "Johnny B Goode" but we don't talk about that around here.
Lately though I've been paying closer attention to some of the songs from the album, and am discovering they're quite good. Check that... more than a few are epic, powerful, awesome.
In fact I'm starting to think they just might have pulled the damned thing off.
See for example "Revelations." This song kicks my ass. Crank it up this Metal Friday and it will kick yours, too.
I have the power
I have the choice
They'll hear my voice
For centuries
Yes, we will Rob.
In his biography Confess (highly recommended BTW, my review is here) Halford expressed a deep belief that the band knocked it out of the park with Nostradamus, though he acknowledges it's also the most divisive album in the band's oeuvre. Here's what he had to say:
I absolutely loved making it. It ended up as a double album and I am proud of every fucking word and note.... I think it contains some of the most accomplished lyrics I have ever written. I also believe it's one of the greatest suites of music in metal history. So there! I stand behind it 100 percent.
Not nearly enough Anthrax on the blog. Let's change that this Metal Friday.
I don't listen to a whole lot of this band these days, but back in the late 80s/early 90s they were very heavy in my rotation. "Among the Living" hit a sweet spot. Right in the midst of the thrash era Stephen King released the uncut The Stand. Which we all read, and discussed. And wondered if we'd survive the apocalypse. Not likely with the Walking Dude to contend with.
Pair The Stand with "Among the Living" and you've got a great time on your hands. This song gave Randall Flagg his due.
Anthrax had a knack for writing choruses with riffs that begged for a mosh pit to erupt. You get that here.
Anecdotally, readers of S&S listen to heavy metal in higher proportion than country or rap music. There are reasons for this.
The sound of S&S is heavy, and of battle. James Taylor cannot be the soundtrack of “Black Colossus.”
Another is the appropriation of sword-and-sorcery imagery by metal bands. Dangle Kings of Metal in front of a Robert E. Howard reader and you’ll get a grunt of recognition, if not appreciation, even though they might have never heard of Manowar. Some will go on to sample the music, discover that “Heart of Steel” is really fucking awesome song, and become a metalhead.
Ken Kelly and Manowar can be none more metal.
That’s partially what happened to me. Fantasy imagery—along with the influence of high school friends and what was going on in the broader popular culture circa 1987--led me to sample metal bands. The sound and fury hooked me. And the rest is history.
Metal and sword-and-sorcery also share some deeper DNA …. a thematic attraction to the Outsider. Some examples fired off over a beer:
Judas Priest with “The Sentinel”
Whitesnake and “Here I Go Again.” Like a drifter I was born to walk alone.
Helloween: I Want Out
Metallica: Escape (Life’s for my own, to live my own way)
Etc.
Metal does not have a patent on the outsider concept; rock has always contained its seeds. See Dion’s “Runaway” and Rolling Stones “Tumbling Dice.” But the combination of imagery+heaviness+outsider makes metal music a substantial overlap in the venn diagram of S&S.
Iron Maiden’s “Drifter” is another fine example. As Paul DiAnno sings:
Gotta keep on roaming, gotta sing my song… ‘cause I’m a drifter, drifting on.
I hope you drift into a fine weekend on this Metal Friday.
It's July, 7 o'clock in the evening. The New England night is warm. I'm sitting in my car, windows rolled down. The moon and stars are glittering above … and I’ve got an evening ahead of Judas Priest style heavy metal.
The Priest* is playing Uncle Eddie's Oceanside Tavern in Salisbury. A dive bar teetering on shithole, but one I happen to love.
I drive out of the garage, press play on my curated Judas Priest playlist, and hear this:
This song takes me to some desert plain, the stars wheeling overhead on a trip to nowhere and everywhere all at once. Nowhere to go and no responsibilities ... and everything ahead. I've got a life to live.
But tonight is the next best thing. Route 110, a straight line to the New England coast, toward the salt tang and deep roar of the Atlantic ocean. Sour black leather and cold beer and dude companionship, with good-looking chicks and a dumpy bar as the backdrop.
Heavy metal until midnight.
I've done this. Have you? I hope so. There's still time.
"Desert Plains" is the ultimate driving song. You heard this guitar tone in the mid-80s but you don't hear it anymore. This is it in its full glory. "Heading Out to the Highway" is comparable but it lacks the slow, stoned, ethereal vibe of "Desert Plains." Listening to it puts me on an Arizona highway, one of those flat, level, straight to the horizon stretches where you press down on the gas pedal and roar past 80 ... 90 ... and just keep going.
With Judas Priest as the soundtrack.
* The Priest is a New England based tribute band to Judas Priest.
I'm old enough to have bought Iron Maiden's Fear of the Dark on tape, very close to the day of its release in May 1992. If I'm correct my buddy Pete and I bought a copy at a long defunct Strawberries (RIP). Popped it in the car stereo on the drive home and listened all the way to the end, even after arriving at our destination. Our ears were alert to every note. This was Maiden! They deserved our full attention.
We were blown away by "Fear of the Dark," the last song on side 2. Which has since become a classic and concert staple.
... and unfortunately underwhelmed by the rest, and the album as a whole. A rare miss by Maiden.
Except for one other track on side 2.
Take a listen and I think you'll agree about "Judas Be My Guide."
Nothing is sacred
Back then or now
Everyone's wasted
Is that all there is?
Is that it now?
Short, barely makes it past 3 minutes. Powerful, almost no foreplay save for a bit of atmospheric guitar work, then straight in. I love Dave Murray's guitar work after the bridge between the second and third chorus. Bruce is singing at a high level here.
It rips. A great little overlooked song that deserves more attention in Maiden's catalog.
In hindsight "Afraid to Shoot Strangers" is pretty good too.
“Computer God” opens up the vastly underrated Dehumanizer with a bang. Dio saw what was coming, back in 1992, when he penned these prophetic lyrics:
Computerized God, it's the new religion
Program the brain, not the heartbeat
Onward, all you crystal soldiers
Touch tomorrow energize
Digital dreams and you're the next correction
Man's a mistake, so we'll fix it, yeah
My inconsequential machine rebellion has begun. I picked up this rig on Tuesday. A Yamaha RX-595 receiver with a pair of Boston Acoustics speakers and a DVD/CD measure for good measure. The price was right (zero). It sounds fantastic. I can now play my old CDs again. Remember what it was like to hear an entire album without commercials, comments, and digital distraction?
Name the CD for bonus points...
No internet, no algorithms, no copyright strikes, just metal. Dio would have approved.
Fuck... 2025 has been brutal. Rob Reiner deserved a much longer life. Horrible, tragic.
In honor of the man who brought us the finest rockumentary ever made, ladies and gentlemen, I present on this Metal Friday "Stonehenge." The ultimate heavy metal lampoon. Dwarves trampling what should be massive 18' stones (not 18") will never not be funny.
I do recommend A Fine Line Between Stupid and Clever. I'm particularly happy I have a copy with Reiner's signature, a little piece of a man who brought me so much joy with his celluloid visions.
If I were commanded by an extraterrestrial visitor to planet Earth, "Give me one song that best exemplifies this thing you call heavy metal, and I shall decide if thou speaketh true" with the fate of civilization and all we hold dear hanging in the balance, I might have to pick "The Sentinel."
This fucking song man. It's ridiculous. I'll take any singer you've got, and put him or her against Rob Halford in his peak, as we see in this video, and I'm coming out on top.
And the guitars! The tone! The way Rob orchestrates KK Downing and Glenn Tipton like a maestro, playing one off the other and drawing them out to ever greater heights of intensity.
The subject matter of the lyrics, combined with the feel of the music, transports you to some far-flung Blade Runner-esque postapocalyptic future. Where I don't want to be ... unless Judas Priest is the soundtrack.
It's an absolutely 10/10 performance.
Crank this one up on this Metal Friday, and glory in it, Defenders of the Faith.
Michael Moorcock’s stories are populated with characters ill-fitted to their world, outsiders in lands where betrayal and cruelty and sadism are woven into the very fabric of existence.
There is no truth, no golden age, but only the eternal struggle. All that we love—our creations, our friends, and ultimately, ourselves—cannot avoid immolation. We are doomed to die, and this doom is stronger than the will.
What do you seek in such savage worlds? The rest of equilibrium, a place which Moorcock gives tangible form in the elusive city of Tanelorn. Also known as “The City of Rest” or “The Eternal City,” Tanelorn is a sanctuary for Eternal Champions and their constant stuggles against the opposed forces of Law and Chaos.
Tanelorn is everywhere (and nowhere) in Moorcock’s multiverse. In The Quest for Tanelorn (which I admittedly have not read) Dorian Hawkmoon has been reunited with his true love Yisselda, but his two children are still missing. To finally reunite his family he must first find his way to the fabled city.
I described it in Flame and Crimson as an “El Dorado-like city” because it’s half legend if not fully so. It might only exist within. It’s a powerful and enduring symbol, influencing a generation of readers … including the German power metal band Blind Guardian, whom I got to see playing the Worcester Palladium on Wednesday. The Somewhere Far Beyond tour features the band playing the entirety of the 1992 album, including “The Quest for Tanelorn,” a song that packs a big chorus.
Sings Hansi Kursch:
On a quest for Tanelorn, we lose our way
We lose our way could mean physically lost, but that’s not how I read this. We lose our way because we cannot find an internal equilibrium. We fall short due to our own weakness.
But we keep looking. The Quest for Tanelorn continues.
“Tanelorn will always exist while men exist,” says the hermit at the conclusion of The Bane of the Black Sword. “It was not a city you defended today. It was an ideal. That is Tanelorn.”
As songs go I actually prefer Blind Guardian’s other song about the mystic city, “Tanelorn (Into the Void)” off At the Edge of Time (2011). That 20 years separate the songs speaks to its enduring power as a symbol and source of inspiration.
As for the show itself, it was awesome. If you’re a metal fan you simply must see Blind Guardian and sing along to “The Bard’s Song.” “Nightfall” is one of the all-time great concert songs. It’s not unlike “Fear of the Dark,” a terrific song that’s even better played live. Along with “Time Stands Still (at the Iron Hill)” these were the highlights of an overall excellent show. We had great seats, first row in the balcony with a fine sight line to the band and a bird's eye view of a wildly entertaining mosh pit.
Easy choice this week ... in honor of the eternal memory of Ace Frehley, buried this week in Brooklyn. "Strange Ways" appeared on KISS' second album Hotter Than Hell.
Ace wrote it, and I love it.
I've heard him play this one many times in concert, including as it turns out his second to last ever performance (Tupelo Theater, Derry NH, Sept. 4, 2025) which I was proud to have attended.
Moral of the story: Don't ever skip the opportunity to see your aging rock heroes when they come around, because it may be your last chance.
I have not heard this particular recording prior, live with Peter Criss 1995, post first KISS breakup. Cool.
Seems impromptu. A bit rough around the edges.
Definitely awesome. Especially his solo starting around 3:15.
RIP Spaceman.
Addendum: Seems you have to click through to Youtube to watch this. Which I recommend. But in case you're feeling lazy I'm also posting the fine studio recording.
A day late on Metal Friday but today a close look at Ronnie James Dio’s lyrics for “Atom and Evil,” the opening track off The Devil You Know (2009). These are sufficiently abstract that interpretation is required.
Blue skies, once upon a dream
All eyes, never in between
We all once looked to heaven for answers, not to this middle earth.
Then into the garden came the spider
“I’m here for you,” said the spider to the fly
And when I’m through, you can open up your eyes to see
Eden corrupted by the spider/serpent, offering honeyed poison as “truth.” We’ll be masters of the world if we just follow him.
Your world on fire, and the liar won’t let go
Atom and Evil
Atom is an allusion to the biblical Adam but also atomic energy, the development of weapons of Armageddon. And perhaps technology more broadly. The world is on fire as technofascist overlords develop AI Agents to unburden us from grocery lists.
One more promise
We can tame the sun
And then we’ll shine forever
The old promise, of Marx and Ray Kurzweil, that technology will fix all our problems, and we’ll have utopia. Also a reference to the scientists (many of whom were pacifists) who built the bomb, whose release was described as brighter than a thousand suns.
Someday you can cry for everyone
We’ll burn when you were clever
The technologists build bunkers; they’ll shed crocodile tears and count their money as we burn.
Expand your mind, we’ve got a place for you
Just make believe that one and one are always two
Science has all the answers, just “expand your mind bro” and listen to its words. The physical world is all there is, technology doesn’t require governance, or principle.
When into the parlor comes the spider
Just say no!
Atom and Evil
Don’t fall for the sale, the deadly pitch.
Falling’s easy
Rising will never be
So we must rise together
Here are the changes
Powerful harmony
But then there’s no forever
Atom and Evil.
It’s much easier to bend and accept “progress” (which leads to the fall) than to reject it, stand for principle, preserve and protect what is good, live by values. “But then there’s no forever” is a hard lyric to come to grips with; does rejecting atomic technology mean we reject the possibility of man-made utopia/singularity? Is there no way out? Unless…
Maybe if we cry together
Maybe if we cry as one
The tears will fall to chill the fire
And keep everyone from
Atom and Evil
… we unify.
Dio’s vocals are awesome BTW and I love the heavy doom of this track.
A fun aside; surely Dio must have been aware of the presence of another “Atom and Evil,” a gospel song performed by Golden Gate Quartet in 1946. It too is about the dangers of atomic war. “We’re sitting on the edge of doom” never sounded so harmonious and be-bop friendly:
I'm talkin' 'bout Atom, and Evil
Atom and Evil
If you don't break up that romance soon
We'll all fall down and go boom, boom, boom!
*Yes, Black Sabbath, not Heaven & Hell, because that’s what this band is.
If all Bruce Dickinson had was his solo career he’d still be remembered in the annals of heavy metal. Bruce’s best solo efforts—Accident of Birth, Tyranny of Souls, and The Chemical Wedding—comprise a power trio any metal band would be proud to have in their catalogue.
And oh yeah, he did that Iron Maiden thing too.
I got to see Bruce solo for the first time last night at the House of Blues in Boston. My buddy Scott and I battled through brutal Boston traffic to get in but it was worth it. We met up with another friend for dinner and a couple beers before meandering in.
Here’s the setlist. Yes, I got see him perform the “Star Bangled Banner” (which Bruce is performing at the Pittsburgh Steelers game this weekend) and “Flash of the Blade,” a deep cut off Powerslave. Unexpected and fun. I deliberately stayed away from any reviews so as not to be spoiled, and was pleasantly surprised by it all:
1.Accident of Birth
2.Abduction
3.Laughing in the Hiding Bush
4.Shadow of the Gods
5.Chemical Wedding
6.Star Spangled Banner
7.Flash of the Blade
8.Resurrection Men
9.Rain on the Graves
10.Frankenstein
11.The Alchemist
12.Book of Thel
13.Road to Hell
Encore:
14.Tears of the Dragon
15.Gods of War
16.The Tower
I’m semi-embarrassed to admit I’ve barely listened to Bruce’s new album The Mandrake Project, released last year. But I greatly enjoyed “Rain on the Graves” and “Resurrection Men” and will work to rectify that.
Bruce is a very creative, musical dude. Last night he at turns played drums and an instrument called a theremin, which is played without touch, detecting hand movement only. Weird, and fun.
Here is a little bit of probably my favorite Bruce solo song (though “Jerusalem” and “Return of the King” are in the running), “Tears of the Dragon,” off Balls to Picasso, recorded on my cell phone. It's tinny as all cell phone recordings are but you can still get a sense of his power and presence:
I owe Bruce’s solo stuff a proper essay. When I look at the lyrics of “Chemical Wedding” and “The Alchemist” he’s telling us a story about the nature of human existence, and the possibility of transformation.
And so we lay
We lay in the same grave
Our chemical wedding day
Also I'm 99% certain I saw Jeff Talanian, creator of the Hyperborea RPG. Jeff if you're reading this let me know if you were there.
Senjutsu has been out four years (Sept. 2021), long enough that I feel confident in selecting a favorite song.
That song is "Hell on Earth."
"Darkest Hour" and "The Writing on the Wall" are fantastic, but "Hell on Earth" is truly special.
When you get to be an old fart you get disgusted by the eternal hell we keep delivering unto ourselves. Steve Harris’ lyrics reflect this sad reality.
We’re unfortunately never going to have a heaven on this earth—I don’t think it’s possible, even though I think we could be doing far better as a species. We know how to live ethical lives; we have the wisdom of the ancients at our hands.
Yet we don’t bother to acknowledge it, let alone strive to learn it or live by it.
You dance on the graves who bled for us
Do you really think they'll come for us?
Knowledge and virtue, taken by lust
Live on the edge of those that you trust
You think that you have all the answers for all
In your arrogant way only one way to fall
Burning a lamp that is fire in your hands
Taking you further from these lands
We still have children waging wars for old men’s ambitions, vanity.
Despite its bleak outlook it’s a beautiful song. The composition is fantastic; at more than 11 minutes it takes you on a journey. It features some of Bruce’s most inspired singing of the album (“Lost in anger, life in danger”). And it offers hope that one day we’ll see our loved ones again, after death. We sense there is something better beyond, from our past, deep in our memories… far away from this hell on earth.
Dialing up a bit of Manilla Road this Metal Friday, one of the most swordly-and-sorcerous metal bands ever.
I love the atmosphere of "Mystification." Mark Shelton sounds like an evil sorcerer out of a Clark Ashton Smith story here.
Through the winds of time
A poet found The Key
To The Elder Rhyme
Some call the song mystic
With tales of gore
And terror in the night
His words, no more,
Have kept me mystified
Someone in an online group posted that they fail to see the aesthetic connection between metal and S&S (?) Sarcasm doesn't always come across well on the internet so I hope this was a case of crossed wires ... otherwise this is a really bad take.
Mystification is basically Weird Tales with guitars.
Manilla Road also has a song called ... Queen of the Black Coast.
This past weekend I was away celebrating the long July 4 holiday. My extended family is fortunate enough to own a seasonal camp on one of the small lakes that dot southern New Hampshire like lapis lazuli under the mountains. We watched fireworks on the beach, puttered around in the pontoon boat, drank spirits, and forgot about life for a while.
But my mind kept wandering. Far away, to Birmingham, England, where an old greying band dressed in black was taking the stage one last time. Saturday was “Back to the Beginning” and the beginning of the end for a band near-and-dear to my heart.
I’m talking about Black Sabbath, of course.
If you believe Rob Halford and Ozzy Osbourne (who wouldn’t? they are our metal gods, infallible, their word comes from on high), heavy metal’s distinctive sound and look derived at least in part from the sound of clashing steel machinery and billowing fire and smoke of the iron foundries of Birmingham. Birmingham was among the principal engines of the industrial revolution of the mid-18th/early 19th centuries. After the Luftwaffe bombed the shit out of it in WW2—which come to think of it is very fucking metal—it rebounded with a period of economic growth, before beginning a slow decline in the 70s.
Against this curtain of dirty steel and fire heavy metal was born.
Ozzy was born in Aston, a ward in the city, in 1948, growing up in a row of terraced houses. Not a lovely place to spend your childhood. “Unless your life’s ambitions was to work in a factory, killing yourself with all-night shifts on an assembly line, there wasn’t much to look forward to, growing up in Aston. The only jobs to be had were in the factories,” he says in his 2009 autobiography I Am Ozzy.
From this cauldron of crashing iron, molten steel slag and urban decay came Black Sabbath and Judas Priest, the alpha and omega of heavy metal. And others besides. Ozzy escaped the slaughterhouse in which he worked, and hitched to Tony Iommi his star quickly ascended.
Sabbath is regarded as the first metal band by almost everyone; if you think it was actually someone like Blue Cheer you are more than a little pretentious; if you think it was Led Zeppelin you’re an amateur but us metalheads can work with you, young grasshopper, and get you on the path to enlightenment. Those bands made metal sounds, sprinkled in metal chords, and sometimes wrote metal songs: “The Immigrant Song” is thoroughly metal, for example. But Zeppelin as a whole is not. They are blues-based rock. Likewise Blue Cheer may have made songs with heavy metal elements, but they did not start a movement. Black Sabbath did, by going all in with the sound and the look, consistently, album over albums. Their self-titled album debuted on Feb. 13, 1970, and with it heavy metal was born.
If a band is to be considered heavy metal it must embrace that identity all the way--thematically, visually, and most of all, unapologetically. Without irony, unless you are Steel Panther or GWAR. This describes Black Sabbath. The quartet of lead vocalist Ozzy Osbourne, founder and lead guitarist Tony Iommi, drummer Bill Ward, and bassist Geezer Butler, went all-in with crunching, guitar-forward riffs, demonic imagery and lyrics. To get a sense of his sound and how different Black Sabbath is than say, the Rolling Stones—who rock hard but are not heavy metal—you must listen. Words are inadequate. I recommend pulling up “Into the Void” on Youtube or Spotify. You might at first think you’re stoned; the drawn-out intro is downbeat, slow, murky. Coupled with a trippy album cover you might think you were listening to some obscure act who had their heyday at Woodstock and burned out on acid. But then, suddenly, at the 1:14 mark, the song takes a hard right turn into the primal. A primitive downshift to an entirely new type of thing altogether. If you have a pulse this is guaranteed to cause a few involuntary reactions. Your mouth will harden into a rigid, righteous attitude. Your lips will purse. In short order your head will begin nodding to Ward’s driving drumbeat. You may break out into air guitar, mimicking Iommi’s inimitable guitar tones, or you may air drum, swinging your arms to hit an invisible snare. No one seems to play air bass but if that’s your thing, have at it. Go do this now; I’ll wait here. If you experience no involuntary reaction to “Into the Void” or “War Pigs,” you are not metal and never will be.
Sabbath were the torchbearers for metal from 1970-1976, putting out classic after classic album including their self-titled debut, followed by Paranoid (1970), Master of Reality (1971), Vol. 4 (1972), Sabbath Bloody Sabbath (1973), and Sabotage (1975). Sabbath’s distinctive sound came from its tuned down guitars; Iommi needed to loosen his guitar strings after losing the tips of two fingers in an industrial accident (a story that is so metal it has passed into legend, or True Myth). Although they received little commercial airplay Black Sabbath built a massive following with hits like “Paranoid,” “War Pigs,” “Iron Man” and “Children of the Grave.” Their sound would influence subsequent waves of American thrash bands across the Atlantic, including the most commercially successful metal band ever, Metallica. Said Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich during Sabbath’s Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony,:“Bill, Geezer, Ozzy and Tony, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here. Obviously if there was no Black Sabbath, there would be no Metallica. If there was no Black Sabbath, hard rock and heavy metal as we know it today would look, sound and be shaped very, very differently. So if there was no Black Sabbath, I could possibly still be a morning newspaper delivery boy.”
Sabbath was also the first metal band to feel the unending attacks of self-righteous and pretentious critics, who were unable to appreciate this groundbreaking genre of music because they had their heads jammed firmly up the Beatles’ asses. Rolling Stone critic Lester Bangs in September 1970 panned Black Sabbath’s self-titled debut—the same album that launched thousand metal careers and today remains a stone-cold classic—with the following bucket of ice water: “Over across the tracks in the industrial side of Cream country lie unskilled laborers like Black Sabbath, which was hyped as a rockin' ritual celebration of the Satanic mass or some such claptrap, something like England's answer to Coven. Well, they're not that bad, but that's about all the credit you can give them. The whole album is a shuck.”
55 years later the laugh is on him. Apparently all 45,000 tickets for the concert sold out in 16 minutes. I was giving the streaming pay-per-view serious consideration but again, family comes first.
Sabbath’s last live performance as the original four was at Ozzfest in 2005, although a new incarnation picked up in 2006 as Heaven and Hell (I do consider H&H Sabbath in all but name—Iommi drives the boat, Chief. Not Sharon).
But no original four for a stretch of 20 years. Until Saturday, when they took their final bow. Back in Birmingham, as it should be.
Seated on his black throne Ozzy managed to summon some of his old power and haunting vocals, the unmistakable keening wail. I was pleasantly surprised by their performance, both the Sabbath final set and Ozzy’s solo material prior. Seeing him struggle through “Mama I’m Coming Home” brought a tear to my eye. I think he was struggling because of the words and what they represent, not the effort.
Some of the old guard summoned some great performances, too, pieces here and there I’ve been able to catch. Slayer was great. Steven Tyler was fantastic though he did not perform any Sabbath songs. Metallica rocked (“Johnny Blade”? Are you kidding? Awesome). Jake E. Lee, Nuno Bettencourt, and KK Downing shredded. I was also impressed by some young blood/Yungblud. Whew, that dude can sing. I’ve heard great things about Rival Sons cover of “Electric Funeral.”
I haven’t seen all the performances yet, just what I’ve been able to find on YouTube. I’m sure there will be some special DVD release and I’m looking forward to seeing it in full.
We also had some great recorded performances. Jack Black’s School of Rock version of “Mr. Crowley” made me smile, and nod… and cheer. He played it straight, rare for him. Over the top in an early 80s Ozzy tribute costume, but not straying into buffoonery or mockery, and he sounded great. I’ve already mentioned Judas Priest’s cover of “War Pigs,” which was sort of a separate thing though obviously timed for the show.
I don’t believe another metal band will ever receive this sort of all-star sendoff. Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Metallica are rivals in influence (though I think Sabbath still gets the nod here) and Metallica is more commercially popular, but by the time Metallica retires—they are still in their early 60s and could have another solid decade ahead of them—the old guard will have slipped away, either into musical senesce or their mortal coil. We won’t have Slayer and Steven Tyler to perform; we won’t have Judas Priest to create a video tribute.
Metal is going, boys. Its passage had already begun with the deaths of Ronnie James Dio and Lemmy, but with Sabbath’s departure from the stage we’re truly seeing the beginning of the end.
And it makes me sad.
Classic heavy metal is tied to the romance of my life. Growing up I discovered its magic. For me heavy metal was a release from conformity. When I joined the ranks of metal warriors I wasn’t scared; I was part of something powerful, unique, wild, weird. I wore the denim, and the black.
