Never judge a book by its cover.
Because if you were to look at the epic, Tolkien-esque painting of wolves and bat wings that adorn this record sleeve and imagine that you were in for some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal, you’d be disappointed.
…just like I was, when I first got this record because of the cover, and expected some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal.
After mentioning that only one person has ever taken me up on my offer to donate records that they want me to review, my friend Bill handed me a stack for the Cause.
Included was this disk from Swedish guitar virtuoso Ywngwie Malmsteen, who has long occupied space in my mind as the type of highly technical soloist who was more concerned with showing off his own chops than creating enjoyable compositions (see also: Joe Satriani).
Luckily, though there may be no shortage of sweeps and taps and blistering solos, Malmsteen is too much of a Classical music fanboy to let composition sit at the wayside.
Read more at ayearofvinyl.com #yngwiemalmsteen #heavymetal #metal #vinyl
There was only one record appropriate for this entry. And truth be told, I had to borrow it, bending the rules of the blog for a bit. But given the opportunity at hand, I’m not sure I had another option.
Numerical gimmicks aside, this is my first time listening to this record, or any Iron Maiden record, most of my previous exposure coming from the Iron Maiden pinball machine (though the self-titled track here is my favorite song on that machine).
That said, like most classic heavy metal before it (see also: Black Sabbath), it’s not nearly as evil as the controversy surrounding it would suggest. Instead, it’s just a great album filled with virtuosic performances and surprisingly catchy songs.
After the heavy melodicism of 2015’s Purple, falling in love with Gold & Grey was a pretty easy task.
But where Purple was a relatively brief affair, this record stretches out, making itself comfortable in its sonic space with a gravity that is solemn without being inaccessible.
For years, I’ve mistakenly thought of Black Sabbath as a one-trick pony—probably on account of the monotony of the horde of copycats citing their catalogue as their bible.
But after digging deeper into their discography, I can see now that the source material is much more diverse than I could have imagined. Vol. 4 is especially varied, and not just in comparison to their other records, but within its own tracklist.
For my great love of metal bands that are often described as “Black Sabbath worship” (see: Pallbearer, Elder, Baroness, Isis), I’ve never dug too deep into Black Sabbath themselves beyond some superficial listens to Paranoid.
But on a recent trip to the record store, I decided to change that. Trying to decide between this record and Vol. 4, I pulled up an article that called this record the “ultra-heavy” foundation of doom, sludge, and stoner metal.
I just wasn’t expecting so much overt Christianity.
Across their first four albums, Led Zeppelin had rocked harder and explored more than any band before them.
It was a double-edged sword. They had created some of the most indelible songs in rock and roll history. But how were they supposed to top “Stairway to Heaven”?
They wouldn’t, actually.
Having already asserted their dominance on their first two hard rocking, raunchy records, Led Zeppelin takes a step back on their third outing to flex their compositional chops.
And that means a surprising amount of ballads.
By the end of the 1960s, the peace and love of the decade had started to wear a little thin.
The Nixon Administration rose to power in the United States. The Troubles dominated headlines in the United Kingdom. The Vietnam War raged on.
And out of this chaos came a band whose sound was as fiery as the world around them.
Hand a guitar to just about anyone, and they will play the opening riff to “Smoke On the Water.” It’s instinct.
And that is a testament to Deep Purple’s indelible place in music history. Continue reading