And here it is, the first book review on this blog! The honors go to Bruno Lombardi’s debut science fiction novel “Snake Oil”, a very enjoyable and humorous look at first contact that is bound to entertain and amuse in equal measures.

Having had a chance to read an early draft of the novel, I was privileged to see its development into an excellent work of tongue-in-cheek science fiction it is today. The story starts out strong and does not let go, incorporating a varied and unique cast of characters and interweaving plot lines that all come together in the end. Amongst the novel’s protagonists are secret agents, UFO believers, and (literally) tinfoil-wearing conspiracy theorists – and that is only tip of the iceberg. Each archetype is played up for humorous effect, and when they do interact with each other, the results are often hilarious, and yet still believable.

The plot of “Snake Oil” thrives on taking fiction and pop culture clichés and spinning them with new, unique twists. The aliens come to Earth not as conquerors, but as – rather sleazy – salesmen, all answering to the name “Bob”, and interactions between the aliens and various stratas of human society take on a decidedly commercial bent, up to and including a bidding war between governments lining up to purchase alien technologies. And while the aliens do have questionable intentions, the nature of their intentions and methods was refreshingly different from many science fiction clichés.

Lombardi’s writing is witty and fast-paced, and his characters are instantly memorable, with each having a distinct persona and interesting influence on the book’s events. The protagonists are intentionally written as caricatures of certain archetypes for great comical effect, however, the book never descends into cheap parody. “Snake Oil” is a smart, funny, and imaginative romp through unconventional first contact scenario, and is highly recommended.

Buy it now at Amazon.Com

To this day, Iron Maiden’s 1982 opus “The Number of the Beast” is considered one of all-time metal classics, and it is not difficult to see why. The album’s seamless mixture of raw, punk-infused NWOBHM energy with more complex, ambitious songwriting that owed equally to Led Zeppelin, Queen, and even Yes and Genesis produced a blueprint for the band’s ultimate sound, as well as unleashing several successful singles that still get obnoxious amounts of airplay in 2013. Out of the album’s eight songs, no less than three (“Run to the Hills”, progressive epic “Hallowed Be Thy Name”, and the title track with its then-provocative name and lyrics) are still an integral part of Iron Maiden’s live show.

While the guitar work of Dave Murray and Adrian Smith became one of Iron Maiden’s trademark features, it was the arrival of Bruce Dickinson on vocals that defined Iron Maiden as most of us known it. Often imitated but never equaled, Dickinson’s operatic howl finally gave the songs the dramatic tension they needed, morphing them from raw byproducts of NWOBHM into mini-narratives, reaching operatic climax on tracks like “Children of the Damned” and aforementioned “Hallowed Be Thy Name”.

Looking back at “The Number of the Beast” in 2013, the album is far from perfect, and contains its fair share of lesser tracks – after all, not many people would actively scream for “Gangland” or “Invaders”, while Adrian Smith-penned “22 Acadia Avenue” feels like a throwback to the earlier, less developed form of the genre. That said, it was also the first Iron Maiden album on which everything came together – performances, songwriting, energy and drama that made the band a success in the 1980s and beyond. For that reason alone, it is a bona fide classic in the metal community, and many still consider it their finest hour despite the subsequent albums correcting its shortcomings.

I must admit – it was pure dumb fun to scream the chorus of the title track when I was sixteen and wanted to shock parents and non-metal friends. While Iron Maiden were never the most extreme band, there is a certain attraction to yelling out comprehensive lyrics that invoke everyone’s favorite fallen angel, not because of any inherent belief, but rather out of desire to challenge the status quo. For a still-awkward teen, it was the means of forging one’s identity as distinct from the others’ expectations, creating a self-image as a member of heavy metal subculture with all its idiosyncrasies. It was a declaration to the world that I have arrived, and this was the sound and the imagery that spoke to me, a superficial sign of identity as a metal fan.

As an adolescent, I remember separating the world by musical genre, just like others may separate it by literary interests, preference of Star Trek versus Star Wars, or any other criteria. Music was a form of identity, a form of knowing friend from foe, a way to meet others with similar persuasions. As a recent immigrant at the time, it was the latter function of the music that proved decisive in my life afterwards, as the Russian-speaking community in this area has never been very interested in metal, prompting me to seek friendships outside of it, to acquire greater degree of fluency in English, and to eventually have most of my social circle comprised of non-Russian speaking individuals.

Discovering Iron Maiden in the 1990s gave me the luxury of picking and choosing the order in which I listened to their albums for the first time. As such, I recall buying copies of “The Number of the Beast”, “Piece of Mind”, and “Powerslave” at roughly the same time, and my memories of three records are thus intertwined. And yet, the albums have sufficiently distinct moods and structures to still stand apart from one another, and to appeal to different aspects of growing up and discovering oneself.

Where “The Number of the Beast” was the soundtrack to rebellion and forming an independent identity, “Piece of Mind” was the sound of development and growth. The songs were more mature, the playing was tighter, and the lyrical themes reached for science fiction, history, fantasy and mythology. While the opener “Where Eagles Dare” was a relatively straightforward narrative based on a movie about the second World War, “Flight of Icarus” was no mere retelling of the myth, instead becoming a tale of ambition and pride. The titular Trooper of the Crimean War is not a mindless automaton killing for glory or excitement, but a man swept in a desperate charge of the Light Brigade, lamenting his own demise in the chaos of combat.

Bruce Dickinson’s involvement with the writing process produced several tracks with darker, more pensive feel, such as “Revelations”, or often overlooked “Sun and Steel”, while the lyrical themes began to involve darker side of mysticism and prophecy on “Die With Your Boots On”, “Still Life”, and epic “To Tame a Land”, the latter of which was inspired by Frank Herbert’s science fiction triumph “Dune”. Simultaneously, the arrival of Nicko McBrain on drums was the final piece of the classic-era lineup, serving as a solid background for Steve Harris’ always adventurous bass lines.

To this day, “Flight of Icarus” is one of my favorite Iron Maiden tracks, to the point of inspiring a scene in the first novel I managed to finish. The titular character’s declaration to “fly as high as the Sun” resonated with my then-teenage self as the unattainable yet worthy goal, something to strive for no matter the adversity. And while my teenage mind put a pessimistic span on it (after all, Icarus’ story did not have a happy ending), something of that ambition remained, enough to still be meaningful almost two decades later.

As “Revelations” foreshadowed interest in the esoteric (to be developed on latter-era Iron Maiden records), it held a special sort of appeal. Many youths wonder about their place in the world, and it is even more poignant in our age, where some form of apocalypse is always around the corner – 1999, 2012, nuclear holocaust, zombie plague, alien invasion… We as a culture have developed an unhealthy fascination with the end to our way of life, and when our art evokes it, it pulls at the heart strings and fascinates, amuses, and even entertains. To a bookish teenager with a long-standing addiction to science fiction and fantasy (an addiction that, if I may add, is something I actively feed to this day!), the song’s literary references and darker theme were, if you excuse the bad pun, a revelation.

“The Trooper”, though far from my favorite Iron Maiden song, holds a very special place in my heart. My first introduction to Iron Maiden was through a broadcast of “Live After Death” live album on Ukrainian television at some point in 1994 or 1995. Up until that point, my musical interests tended to remain on the rock side of things – Queen, Guns’n’Roses, Nirvana, and whatever was making waves in Europe at the time. “The Trooper” changed it all, courtesy of twin guitar harmonies played by Dave Murray and Adrian Smith that, at the time, seemed out of this world. Even after I have learned to play that song (and actually performed it live in a very early incarnation of Midgard), hearing those melodies played by Murray and Smith still gives me chills. Ultimately, those few seconds of one song started me on a path to metal, a truly life-changing event the magnitude of which I did not realize until much, much later.

It is then fitting that “Powerslave”, with its expansive songwriting and further development on “Piece of Mind” themes, was the album responsible for “Live After Death” tour, and, ultimately, for my fascination with Iron Maiden. Taking the basic formula of “Piece of Mind” and distilling it into even more epic, more diverse form, the album is rightly considered one of the finest heavy metal releases of all time, and many fans point to it as being the pinnacle of Iron Maiden’s sound. From World War II and contemporary fears of nuclear showdown to Egyptian mythology and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “Powerslave” easily transitions between mythological and socially relevant, between rhyme and reason, between catchy singles like “Aces High” and “2 Minutes to Midnight”, martial “Flash of the Blade” and desperate “Back in the Village” (a sequel of sorts to “The Number of the Beast”’s freedom anthem “The Prisoner” and the TV series it was based on) and epic title track and “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” with their forays into supernatural and religious themes.

In my opinion, “Powerslave” is the sum of everything Iron Maiden did until that point, and perhaps the best summary of NWOBHM taken to its logical conclusion. Merging youthful energy and exuberance with accomplished musicianship and intelligent lyrical approach, the band created something special that resonates almost three decades later. As a teenager, I was mightily impressed by Iron Maiden’s ability to take the genre of music usually characterized by excess (and, at the time, usually associated with the glamorous offspring of Sunset Strip) and turn it into something more, something intelligent that piqued curiosity and prompted the listeners to seek out the inspiration behind the songs. Each song had a story behind it, and each story pointed to something more than a run-of-the-mill exercise in melodic riffs and soaring vocals. Even now, as a thirty-something year old, I can listen to “Powerslave” along with its predecessors, and still get the same fresh, innovative feel from the music.

Now that the band was at the peak of its creative prowess, with the worldwide fame to match, the only question remaining was how it could possibly top “Powerslave”. Would it go for a radical redesign of its sound, or would it attempt to recapture the magic at a risk of producing a pale imitation? As it turned out, Iron Maiden did something different – in fact, their next step was sufficiently distinct to warrant a separate chapter in this narrative.

Up next: Into the Future (“Somewhere in Time” and “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son”). Stay tuned!

It is the unspoken truth of any creative endeavor – if you release it to the public, someone out there will not like it. Sometimes, it may take form of academically written, grammatically correct, exhaustive analysis of everything that went wrong in the reviewer’s opinion. Sometimes, it may take form of a foul-mouthed Internet simian failing to string together two word sentences without constantly invoking obscenities and CAPS LOCK KEY (because it has a magic power of validating even the most asinine of opinions). Most often, criticism will be somewhere in between, and it is the author’s (or the artist’s, if that happens to be the case) job to sift through it, and to distinguish between valid critique and barrage of proverbial feces from the monkey cage.

I can see this debacle from both ends, as a musician and author, and as a reviewer. In all honesty, it is rare musician or author who does not get dismayed by bad reviews, but they can also be a good reality check. If I were to spend months of my life writing or making music, I am almost certainly going to have a strong opinion about its quality and merits. It is not hard for an author to miss things that he might have rationalized or consciously chose to overlook. And as such, it is the reviewer’s job to catch those things – this is why the rest of us read the reviews, right?

As a reviewer, I am also held to certain standards. More often than not, the music I am reviewing (and, eventually, the literature) represents someone’s hard work and dedication. Moreover, a reviewer rarely purchases what he or she reviews – in my experience, most records I have reviewed were provided to me free of charge by the artists or their record labels, essentially as a marketing expense. If someone is willing to give me their work for free in return for critique, I will spend time and effort to respect that person’s work, and to give them constructive criticism if any is warranted. It does not mean that I will give only positive reviews, but it does mean that even in my negative reviews, I will point out to where improvements can be made, and not be dismissive of the effort that went into creating the work under review. As a musician and a writer, I hope to receive the same treatment.

So, if a negative review states precisely what is wrong, what could be better, and what is right, then it has accomplished its goal. I may or may not agree with the points it makes, but I will give them serious consideration instead of acting like a delicate flower with hurt feelings. Let’s face it – hurt feelings alone do not contribute to artistic or literary development. A thick skin, and willingness to learn from criticism does. Therefore, an honest critic who holds nothing back is worth his weight in precious metal of your choice.

Even when the review is not ideal in this respect, there is something to learn from it, as there will be kernels of constructive criticism even in less flattering reviews. Sometimes it takes thicker skin to dig for it – and while considering oneself an infallible creative genius is good for self-esteem, it is not very conducive to successful creative endeavors.

And then, there are the people who completely miss the point.

Over my musical career, I have received several reviews that blasted my albums because they were not “extreme” enough. In my humble opinion, it is an equivalent of criticizing steak for not being made of chicken. That said, there is a valuable lesson to it: sometimes, the reviews are just sent to wrong people who are not the target audience for the work in question. Further, it stresses out the importance of doing your research before submitting materials for review, and only targeting the publications that actually cover the genre, and can provide useful feedback.

Finally, there are the troglodytes, hailing from troll-infested basements and studio apartments worldwide. You know the kind – them of perpetual CAPS LOCK, incomprehensible scribbling, and vocabularies limited to insults and obscenities. These are the critters who alternate between misspelled not-so-witty one-liners and verbal equivalent of diarrhea, the definite proof that a million monkeys given infinite time will never reproduce the works of Shakespeare. These are the freeloaders who actively solicit the artist or the author to send them materials for review, even when they are very clearly not the target audience, and when they have no intention of providing anything resembling constructive critique, or even any critique at all.

The absolute worst case scenario for any author or musician is when one of these critters manages to acquire your works, posing as a legitimate reviewer, only to post something very poorly written and incomprehensible (and sometimes, to boot, in a language the author/musician does not understand). For all intents and purposes, it is a waste of perfectly legitimate promotional materials that could have been put to better use somewhere else, and money thrown away on postage (if the troglodyte asks for a physical copy). It is these “reviewers” who are most frustrating, because while almost all other negative reviews have a point, the troglodytes go out of their way to break every rule of reasonable discourse.

But wait! Even these bottom-dwellers have a purpose. They serve to illustrate how important honest critics are, and how much any creative individual should appreciate true constructive criticism. So ultimately, a negative review is usually going to be pretty valuable; a review that misses the point might be telling; a review by a troglodyte is a reminder to appreciate your friendly (or not-so-friendly) critics who will tell you what is wrong.

Hail Critics!

Vermiform
“Of Chaos and the Void”
Masters of Metal Productions, 2012
Rating: 8.5 / 10

One could be forgiven for thinking that Vermiform’s sophomore record, “Of Chaos and the Void”, is the work of a completely different band from the one that released “Everlasting Horror” three years prior. Where the debut album reveled in a distinctly American type of old-school death metal pioneered by bands like Obituary, the follow-up is an entirely different beast despite maintaining the core of the band’s lineup. The second coming of Vermiform is an entirely different take on dark, aggressive music that borrows heartily from black and melodic death metal without compromising atmosphere and intensity.

“Of Chaos and the Void” sounds like a result of some particularly misanthropic residents of Gothenburg, Sweden taking a long sabbatical in a Norwegian forest with nothing but their instruments and recording equipment. It dwells roughly in the same territory as latter-day Dissection, Naglfar, or maybe Dawn, if the latter took greater interest in melodic death metal. While for many bands stylistic changes represent trouble, this is definitely not the case of confused identity, as the album is cohesive and focused. The band has obviously approached the writing process with a very clear idea of what they wanted to accomplish, and managed to produce a grim yet entertaining record for all of our shriveled black hearts.

In this, the idea behind Vermiform’s second album is similar to what they did on “Everlasting Horror”: take a genre they are fans of, and serve up a reverent tribute to it, while embellishing it with occasional catchy choruses (“All That I Despise” or “Children of the Darkest Night”), memorable riffs (“A Black Ash Inheritance”), sinister interludes (intro track “Entering the Void” and “Dreams of the Abyss”), or even an atmospheric, lengthy closer (“The End of All”). The band employs a number of guest soloists, who contribute to varied lead guitar stylings and give each song a distinctive edge. Vocally, Bryan Edwards still employs a sickening, gut-wrenching growl, which conveys the album’s misanthropy very well, and which serves as yet another weapon in Vermiform’s arsenal.

The album mix is a bit unusual, as it brings the drums forward over guitars, and may occasionally detract from the overall impression, as it takes some time to get used to. At times, the mix feels as if it was intended for a rawer, less melodic form of music, but it also serves to prop up the black metal feel on “Of Chaos and the Void”, so it might be a matter of personal taste. Similarly, the programmed drums are an occasional distraction during blast beats, particularly on “All That I Despise”, but it is a minor complaint, since the songs are strong enough to overlook these issues.

Once again, Vermiform delivers the goods with “Of Chaos and the Void”. The record is full of good songs, impeccable playing, and the kind of grim atmosphere that Dissection was famous for creating. Another highly recommended offering from Masters of Metal Productions.

Vermiform
“Everlasting Horror”
Masters of Metal Productions, 2009
Rating: 8/10

This is the album I should not have enjoyed as much as I did. While I occasionally enjoy few songs by bands like Malevolent Creation or Obituary, old school Florida death metal has never been my favorite genre, so Vermiform’s debut album took me by surprise and refused to let go.

Sometimes, a genre might need a decade or two in order to mature (or, as might be the case with some of the intentionally uglier styles, to fester in the ground) before it can become fresh again. “Everlasting Horror” is a result of musicians with appreciation for the genre getting together to pay tribute to everything that was good about the genre, and as such, it succeeds. This is raw old school death metal as seen through the eyes of the fans, but regurgitated into the XXIst century in all its primitive, ugly glory.

From buzzsaw guitars to gurgling low-pitched vocals, Vermiform makes no excuse for what they are trying to do. There are more than a few (intentional) parallels between “Everlasting Horror” and early works by Obituary or Morbid Angel, more so the former than the latter. And while I must confess that Obituary tends to lose my attention after a few songs, Vermiform has enough sensitivity for smart, hook-laden (as much as this can apply to death metal of non-melodic variety) songwriting to keep things interesting.

The songs have a certain charm and enthusiastic energy about them, raising them beyond the level of mere imitations and making them into credible contributions to the genre. The lo-fi nature of production is an asset to the raw atmosphere of the album. Whether Vermiform remains within the genre confines or ventures away from the safe grounds into more melodic territory (“At the Mountains of Madness”, which utilizes some melodic riffs and even occasional clean vocal), the result is a very satisfying experience. It may not be the most innovative or unique offering in the realm of old-school death metal, but “Everlasting Horror” knows its limitations, and delivers on all accounts.

Happy 2013 to all of you! For those of you who follow this blog with any degree of regularity, there will be a number of new and exciting updates coming your way shortly. The Iron Maiden series will be concluded, and a number of music and even literary reviews will be posted. Furthermore, expect a few more things of note, including a webzine coming soon, and maybe, just maybe, some new literary endeavor or two. Sounds interesting? If so, watch this space!

There must have been something in the water.

Maybe it was the cynicism that overtook the younger siblings of the Woodstock generation. Or maybe it was the mounting number of warheads and troops on both sides of the Iron Curtain, the spirit of the times, always seemingly one minute away from nuclear midnight. Maybe it was the bleakness of industrial Britain coping with the world in which the sun set on the Empire, a liberal helping of Hendrix and the Fab Four paving the way to a shift in public thinking. This was the new world, a world where many concepts of morality and righteousness were turned on their head; the world where no one was infallible; the world where ideologies fought for hearts and minds as much as they vied for territory and resources.

Out of this world of perpetual conflict, heavy metal arose like a bastard offspring of darker aspects of the 1960s, becoming a mirror through which the new generation painted a picture of their reality. While the earliest purveyors of the genre still often thought in terms of complex structures and technical playing, even that was further deconstructed by the advent of punk movement, which took a stand against the musical excesses and often idealistic worldviews espoused through early metal lyrics. By the late 1970s, the marriage of earlier metal musical proficiency with rawer, punk-influenced energy produced the movement we came to call the New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM).

While Iron Maiden is the most commonly recognized name from the movement, they were far from the only band that carved a notable career from it. Stalwarts such as Saxon and Diamond Head still ply their trade even now, while Def Leppard, though only vaguely relevant in a metal discussion in 2012, got their start in the same scene. All shared the hallmarks of the style – energetic sound that owed much to Deep Purple and Black Sabbath, but given a faster, edgier treatment, at odds with the contemporary punk scene and yet undeniably influenced by it.

Iron Maiden’s first, self-titled effort, is a sign of the times. The songs are generally short and to the point, bursting with energy and excitement of a band hungry for recognition (although even at this early stage, the seeds of future complex compositions are sown with “Phantom of the Opera”, or the balladry of “Remember Tomorrow” and “Strange World”). The raw sound of music is complemented by vocals of Paul Di’Anno, whose approach was essentially a tuneful take on punk style. While Di’Anno would never be known as a technically great vocalist, his youthful enthusiasm sells the songs well, while multiple guitar harmonies straight out of Thin Lizzy’s arsenal harken to arena rock staples.

For an album released in the year of my birth, the self-titled Iron Maiden record is still a surprisingly relevant listen, and it is no wonder that the band still frequently includes songs from it in their setlists. The music ranges from relatively simple riffs and melodies to challenging, ambitious compositions requiring perfect synchronicity between instruments and vocals. Some of the songs, such as “Remember Tomorrow”, are almost deceptively simple – easy enough for a sixteen year old with rudimentary guitar skills to learn, and yet taking skill of progressive giants such as Opeth to truly master, as anyone who heard their version of the song could attest. It is not the best thing ever released under Iron Maiden name, but it still holds certain appeal to me, as it was the album playing in the background when my group of high school friends started separating into those who listened to heavy music, and those who did not; those who wanted to play instruments, and those who chose other interests and pursuits.

But there is something else to it, too. I came to the United States a few months short of my sixteenth birthday, speaking mediocre English and having little to no idea on what to expect. The youthful alienation of Iron Maiden’s early material spoke to me in a way few other pieces of music could. The song themes echoed self-discovery of someone still learning to be an adult, being in a strange place and seeking an escape from reality within your own head. While some songs are downright silly (“Prowler” and “Charlotte the Harlot”), others, such as “Running Free” and “Sanctuary”, exude a rough charm of teenage rebellion that stood the test of time, and elicited much of the same emotions even at the time when the band members themselves were firmly in the middle age.

In this sense, “Iron Maiden” (the album) has a unique place in my heart. While the follow-up, 1981’s “Killers”, was largely similar in style, mostly consisting of songs that were left over from the first album sessions, the fantasy themes did not hold the same resonance to my teenage self, and some of the songs lacked the unique feel of the debut. As a result, “Killers” does not find its way into my playlist as often as other Iron Maiden releases, even though it is still full of good music. The title track recaptures the rough-around-the-edges feeling of the self-titled debut, and “Twilight Zone” (a bonus track included on the US version) sounds like the band is already outgrowing its rough beginnings. “Wrathchild” is a song exemplifying where Iron Maiden was in their evolution at the time, and a very fun track to play on either guitar or bass. I still have many fond memories of trying to learn this song with a friend – him playing bass, me playing guitar and trying to sing.

For all its positives, “Killers” does suffer from several issues. At times it sounds as if the band recorded their strongest material for the self-titled album, and used the leftovers for follow-up. Some of these songs (“Purgatory”, aforementioned title track, and “Wrathchild”) are amongst Iron Maiden’s best, but others feel unfinished (“Another Life”), or display a work-in-progress rather than an artist with developed sound (“Innocent Exile”, which was apparently one of the first songs written by band leader and bassist Steve Harris). The newer songs, “Murders in the Rue Morgue” and “Prodigal Son”, represent two very different directions, with the former foreshadowing the style popularized during the band’s ascendancy to global stardom, and the latter taking a folky, progressive approach that would not be revisited until much later in Iron Maiden’s career.

Finally, and most tellingly, the addition of Adrian Smith on guitar, soon to be a part of one of the most famous guitar teams in all metal, added to the intricacy and the quality of playing. As the arrangements began to rely more on twin guitar heroics of Smith and stalwart Dave Murray, one member of the band began to sound increasingly out of place – vocalist Paul Di’Anno. As much as Di’Anno’s rougher style made the debut a hallmark in NWOBHM movement, his delivery was often at odds with songs on “Killers”, where the dramatic feel of many songs clashed with his gritty, blue-collar approach. It was little wonder that by the end of 1981, Di’Anno was gone, moving on to a middling career trying to recapture former glory while finding new ways to get in all sorts of trouble. In his place, Iron Maiden chose to recruit a then-unknown vocalist by the name of Bruce Dickinson, who became the last piece of the puzzle necessary to launch the band’s career to the next level.

Next up: Forging the Legend (“The Number of the Beast” through “Powerslave”). Stay tuned…

Iron Maiden are an enigma. To a casual observer, they embody the worst of heavy metal’s excesses, a bygone era of Bill and Ted, big hair, leather and spikes. To the countless legions of metal fans, they are almost universally revered as a formative force within the genre, influencing the mainstream and the underground musicians alike, and commanding respect reserved for very few metal icons.

Whatever point of view you may espouse, it is undisputed that any artist whose career has remained vibrant and relevant almost four decades after inception must be doing something right. Over the next several posts, I am going to spend some time reflecting on Iron Maiden’s recording career, both as a would-be music critic, and as a fan of the music. This is not a series of reviews, but rather a look at the band’s discography in the context of what it meant to me, where the music fit into my life – and what meaning it still has, many years later.

Having first heard Iron Maiden as a teenager in the 1990s, I could have hardly imagined that their music would be a frequent fixture in my playlist at a point in life when most people shop for minivans and learn the intricacies of children’s TV shows and parent-teacher conferences. And yet, as a thirty-something father of two, I find myself as drawn to Iron Maiden’s musical output as ever. What is it about the band that explains this longevity, and why would it still hold as much appeal to me now as it did to onetime scrawny fourteen year old?

Over the course of this series of posts, I will try to answer this question, as well as to share my thoughts on different stages of Iron Maiden’s career. So, let’s get started – at the beginning.

Evergrey

“Torn” (2008)

SPV/Steamhammer

Rating: 8.5/10

Ah, Evergrey, everyone’s favorite gloomy bastard offspring of progressive and power metal out of Gothenburg, Sweden. At this point in their career, they have established a distinct sound, and more likely than not, those who have heard them either like them, or have never bought into what Evergrey is trying to accomplish. With the mixed reaction to their previous effort, somewhat more streamlined and song-oriented “Monday Morning Apocalypse”, a change in record label, and an addition of a new bass player (whose pedigree includes much happier-sounding Stratovarius), the expectations were naturally high for “Torn”. The question is, does it deliver?

To answer this question, one has to decide whether they have bought into the entire Evergrey concept to begin with. Tom Englund and the crew have always been a band capable of writing album with subtle (or not-so-subtle) conceptual overtones, perfecting their craft on such excellent pieces of work as “In Search For Truth” and “The Inner Circle”. While they have had numerous standout songs, Evergrey’s music has always worked better when accessed at the level of an entire album; when the conceptual focus was lessened on “Monday Morning Apocalypse”, the results showed. Therefore, a good Evergrey album is more likely than not to embrace the conceptuality, even if at the expense of toning down the impact of some individual songs.

In that respect, “Torn” delivers. Songs like “Broken Wings”, “Fail”, or the title track provide more than enough standouts, while the rest of the material fits nicely into the conceptual framework. While not a true concept album per se, there seems to be a common thread connecting the songs, both musically and lyrically, generally dealing with disappointment, frustration, and other appropriately gloomy topics. Tom Englund’s vocals are a perfect fit for this kind of music, not overly technical and much lower-pitched than the vast majority of his peers, but able to carry the emotion of the songs well. On two of the tracks, the female vocals are used to great effect, accentuating Englund’s rougher delivery on “Broken Wings” and taking lead on parts of “These Scars”.

Musically, “Torn” occupies the middle ground between the song-oriented “Monday Morning Apocalypse” and conceptual pieces such as “In Search For Truth”. That said, the quasi-conceptual thread does bind the music together, resulting in an overall more enjoyable experience than “Torn”’s predecessor. More so, “Torn” sounds every bit like an Evergrey record – melodic, dark, heavy when it needs to be, showcasing impressive degrees of musicianship from the band members when needed, but also knowing when to subside and let the song breathe, topped off with Englund’s instantly recognizable voice. While it does not necessarily touch the best of the band’s efforts due to some of the songs falling prey to overt dramaticism, it is much of an improvement on “Monday Morning Apocalypse”, and is a step in a right direction. Even the lesser moments of Evergrey records are still very good music by the standards of any other band, and there are not many of those on “Torn”. And while it may not be the band’s grand musical statement, it is an Evergrey record through and through, and any who have enjoyed their music before will not be disappointed.

Deathstars

“Termination Bliss” (2006)

Nuclear Blast

Rating: 8.5/10

File this one under “guilty pleasures”. On their second full-length album, Sweden’s Deathstars have further fine-tuned their style of semi-industrial, gothic metal with periodic injections of pop hooks and sensibilities, and the end result is one of the most enjoyable albums I have heard over the last few years.

The story of this band might confuse some, and lead them to wrong conclusions before they even heard a note of music, so let me put it straight. It is true that two of the members have at one point been in Dissection (one of whom happens to be Jon Nodtveidt’s brother), and at least three of the members, including the vocalist, have once been a part of Swordmaster, a death metal act. Deathstars have nothing in common with Dissection or Swordmaster, or any death or black metal altogether, other than an occasional death/black metal backing vocal here and there. So, fans of the aforementioned bands should not be looking here for a second coming of Dissection, or even anything remotely similar in terms of style. Instead, this is clearly geared for the fans of Rammstein, The Kovenant, or even more commercial offspring of the genre such as Marilyn Manson.

All the necessary elements of the style are here – industrial-sounding beats, heavy rhythmic guitars, deep male goth vocals accentuated with occasional angelic female singing, and enough electronics, samples, keyboards, and the like to remove any semblance of death metal from the mix. Is it particularly deep and engaging in terms of music? Not really, but that was not the point. “Termination Bliss” is a very fun record to listen to, as it hits the mark pretty much spot on, and maintains consistent level of quality throughout.

Sure, maybe The Kovenant did it better at one point, and Rammstein is more renowned worldwide (although, last I have heard, Deathstars have amassed quite a following in Europe), but there is not many things wrong with “Termination Bliss”, and more often than not, it gets the style right, reminding me of how good it can be when done the way it was supposed to.

Another thing that helped Deathstars on their second record is lessening their reliance on aggression found in spades on the debut “Synthetic Generation”, and letting more poppy, melodic elements creep in. In a perfect world, “Blitzkrieg” would have replaced Marilyn Manson’s “Beautiful People” on the mainstream radio with its driving rhythms and pop hooks, while “Virtue To Vice” is an industrial-gothic version of a “soft”, ballad-like song. “The Greatest Fight On Earth” reminds one of prime The Kovenant with the semi-spoken vocals accentuated by a semi-operatic female choir backing vocals, while “Death In Vogue” is a true hidden gem of the album, a glam-rock song masquerading as industrial or gothic metal track with one of the catchier choruses present.

All in all, “Termination Bliss” delivers on all accounts. Yes, it may not be Music with the capital M, but it is great entertainment, and for that alone it deserves a higher rating than many musically pretentious offerings that do not provide that.