Slayer - Show No Mercy

by Cosmo Lee

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be Brian Slagel. Does he go to bed each night with a smile, thinking, "Damn, I introduced Metallica and Slayer to the world"? Or does he lie awake in a cold sweat wondering, "Why I did I sign Goo Goo Dolls and I Killed the Prom Queen?" Slagel generally has sharp A&R instincts, though, and Slayer was his plum signing. To see enough potential in them as a cover band to coax originals from them - what a master stroke.

Die by the Sword
Crionics

I wish I had heard Show No Mercy when it came out 25 years ago today. It must have blown minds at the time. Even now, it's electric. Slayer didn't sound like Slayer yet - Venom and NWOBHM influences were still explicit - but they were already deadly. Dave Lombardo's kicks were already thundering, and the guitars were fluently precise. Reportedly this album took anywhere from eight hours to a week to record. Whatever the case, it wasn't long. Since studio magic was not in its budget, the band worked the old-fashioned way, with songs and performances. "The Antichrist," "Die By the Sword," and "Black Magic" hung around on setlists for a while. I'm partial to the galloping NWOBHM-isms of "Crionics," which was sadly mothballed after 1984. Maybe south of heaven, Slayer will roll it out again.

Buy:
Metal Blade (CD, MP3)
Metal Blade (Japanese sleeve edition)

Black Sabbath - Sabbath Bloody Sabbath

Inside gatefold, Japanese edition

Do yourself a favor. Take out your CD/LP/cassette tape/MP3 folder of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. Listen to it. It turns 35 today. That's older than me. Things older than oneself deserve respect. Especially if they're still kicking their progeny's ass 666 ways 'til Sunday. 95% of sludge/doom metal might as well give up. Sabbath did it first, and better. "Crushing," "heavy," and all that - sure. But people forget: Ward and Butler were two of the funkiest white boys ever to wear loon pants. "A National Acrobat" slinks behind the beat, then slathers "War Pigs" in wah-wah. Hendrix would have dug it. "Sabbra Cadabra" is boogie woogie from the nth dimension, swirling together astral synths and barrelhouse piano. I love Rise Above and Tee Pee Records, but, really, they're just chasing Sabbath's ghost. That's OK, though. All of metal's still playing catch-up.

A National Acrobat
Sabbra Cadabra

The promo for "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath": the worst music video ever?

Death - Leprosy

by Cosmo Lee

Death's Leprosy turned 20 yesterday. In 1988, I was deep in the thrall of glam and thrash metal; I didn't hear Leprosy until long after the fact. When I did, I was underwhelmed. I got into Death through their later records (Individual Thought Patterns onwards), and Leprosy seemed kind of boring. It wasn't otherworldly like the later stuff, and it wasn't vicious and raw like Scream Bloody Gore.

Left to Die
Open Casket

But after revisitation, I "get" Leprosy more. It's a transitional record - just like every other Death record after SBG. The thrash influences are intact, and Chuck Schuldiner's growl is still amazing. (My only gripe with later Death is that Schuldiner's voice had considerably thinned out by then.) But Leprosy feels so different from Scream Bloody Gore, no doubt due to the new lineup: Schuldiner + 3/4 of Massacre. Rick Rozz's Kerry King-esque whammy bar divebombs contrast sharply with Schuldiner's more technical solos. Some riffs foreshadow the melodic later records, and Schuldiner's lyrics start dealing with real life death ("Now you're in the real world / Where pain and death are felt") as opposed to the fictional, zombified kind.

The snare sound is awful, and I'm not a fan of that old-school pillowy reverb. But there are loads of killer songs here - "Born Dead," "Left to Die," "Pull the Plug," "Open Casket." Like every other Death record, Leprosy has a definite identity. It's softer than Scream Bloody Gore and not as technical as Spiritual Healing. Ed Repka's cover perfectly fits this atmosphere. And, hey, Dan Swanö likes it: "Personally, I take Leprosy for the only real perfect death metal album." A lesser classic, but a classic nonetheless.

"Pull the Plug" live in Philadelphia, 10/23/88

Carcass - Heartwork

by Cosmo Lee

Carcass' Heartwork turns 15 today. It and Entombed's Wolverine Blues, which came out the same month, were the main soundtracks to my college freshman year. (Earache's licensing deal with Columbia, which exposed Carcass, Cathedral, Entombed, Fudge Tunnel, Godflesh, and Napalm Death to much wider audiences, was directly responsible for introducing me to death metal. Before the Internet, record store distribution mattered.) I've listened to Heartwork only several times since. Hearing it now, I think I know why. It's cold and massive (except for Ken Owen's curiously wobbly drumming). The abstract lyrics ditch the ridiculous medical dictionary-isms that earlier defined the band. Heartwork isn't very "lovable."

Buried Dreams
Heartwork

Yet it remains the Carcass record with which I'm most familiar, if not most affectionate. (That would be Necroticism (Descanting the Insalubrious).) This is due to its catchiness. It's a continuous onslaught of memorable hooks. Returning to this record after years away, I found I still knew it by heart almost entirely. And "Buried Dreams" is one of the mightiest beginnings any record has ever had. It's safe to say that without Heartwork, many bands wouldn't exist today. Arsis' A Celebration of Guilt picks up where Heartwork left off. The Black Dahlia Murder would be nothing without Heartwork. Arch Enemy is sort of a watered-down version of this record; there's a lot of Jeff Walker in Angela Gossow's voice. And, of course, Carnal Forge, in name if not sound.

Earache recently completed its second round of reissuing Carcass' catalogue. This time, though, there's a legitimate excuse - Carcass' reunion tour. Has anyone picked up these latest reissues? Are they worth it? How is the remastered sound? (This record doesn't need remastering.) How are the the bonus materials - the Heartwork demos and the documentary DVD?

Forbidden - Forbidden Evil

by Cosmo Lee

Forbidden's debut, Forbidden Evil, turns 20 today. Its maturity is still startling. The band emerged almost fully-formed, refining their technical thrash only slightly on their 1990 masterpiece Twisted into Form. Forbidden were a second-tier band in prominence, but more than matched their first-tier peers in competence. As a duo, Craig Locicero and Glen Alvelais were easily on par with Holt/Hunolt or that other H-team, Hetfield/Hammett. With an amazingly large range, Russ Anderson was perhaps thrash's most underrated vocalist. There was also a fellow on drums named Paul Bostaph.

Chalice of Blood
Forbidden Evil

The unpredictability and attention to detail on this record is astounding. Even today, it feels forward-thinking, unlike today's retro clones. One good thing has come from the retro thrash trend, though - older bands have receptive markets again. So many Bay Area thrash bands have reunited and released strong records, or are writing new material: Forbidden, Heathen, Laaz Rockit, Defiance, Death Angel, Exodus, Testament. Someone once commented that Metallica's new record is a (by)product of today's retro thrash environment. An interesting theory, for sure. In any case, I like the idea of old soldiers strapping on boots for one last hurrah.

Cynic - Focus

by Cosmo Lee

Cynic's Focus turned 15 yesterday. Plenty of ink has been spilled on it, so I need not discuss its importance, except to point out that without it there would be no Alarum, Behold...The Arctopus, Between the Buried and Me, Intronaut, Spiral Architect, and many other bands today. I don't remember when I first heard it, but my impressions now are distinctly different from then.

The Eagle Nature
The Eagle Nature (remastered)

First, the record seems transitional. Yes, its innovation was combining death metal and jazz fusion, but the mix isn't seamless. Some of the parts are quite messy. Often, the pretty jazz bits drop in out of nowhere, and I don't think the band had a complete grasp on its sound. Of course, such unpredictability was part of the appeal, the sound of exploring new territory. Even the brevity of the record (36:14) suggests unfinished business. The 2-song promo leaked earlier this year (downloadable here) seems more like the direction the band was heading - less metal, more jazz fusion.

Second, Scott Burns wasn't the right guy to produce. This is probably obvious - but it does make me wonder if I would love the record, rather than just like it, if it had gotten the widescreen production it deserved. Nothing against Burns, as he helmed some of my all-time favorite records. It's just that the Death Metal Guy wasn't ideal to produce a record that was hardly Death Metal.

Uroboric Forms
Uroboric Forms (remastered)

Third, the Roadrunner remaster from 2004 sounds like shit, as Roadrunner remasters usually do. It's harsh and shiny, yet the low end is booming and muddy. Sean Reinert's drumming is crisp and nuanced, and that's completely lost in the remaster. But the remaster does include three way-cool Portal demos (as well as three pointless "remixes") and the expanded liner notes typical for reissues. Nice-looking package, if not a nice-sounding one.

I'm really excited to hear Traced in Air (out on October 27/28). It'll likely have a Cynic-worthy production, as well as low metal content. Normally that's a minus, but I think metal was only holding Cynic back. The jazz/prog parts of Focus were so much stronger than its metal, and I think they're where the band's heart lies.

Traced in Air album teaser

Invisible Oranges turns 2

by Cosmo Lee

Invisible Oranges turns 2 tomorrow. This really isn't a big deal, especially given that this site's inspiration, aversionline.com, has been going in some form or another for 8 years. That boggles my mind. The headaches involved in running such a site are immense (Invisible Oranges is held together mostly by tape and hope). I'm amazed Andrew @ Aversionline hasn't gone completely insane yet.

Judas Priest - Heavy Metal

Still, when I consider the thousands of hours I've put into IO, the countless distraught emails sent to tech support, the innumerable crappy albums endured in order to find good ones to feature, and the fact that this site has replaced anything resembling a "life" for me, I feel good about it. People seem to be reading (and caring). The addition of Jess Blumensheid has brought a fresh voice and much hipper taste to the site. It's generally a place I want to visit.

So, how can the site improve? ("Suck less" is not helpful.) What features should be added or dropped? How can the site be better organized? In terms of coverage, what would you like to see more or less of? What have you liked or disliked? Should more writers contribute to the site? Would advertising ruin the experience? As Rob Halford sang 20 years ago, "Heavy Metal - what do you want?"

Suicidal Tendencies - Self-Titled

by Cosmo Lee

Tomorrow's a big day for metal anniversaries. Overkill's Under the Influence and Slayer's South of Heaven both turn 20, and Suicidal Tendencies' self-titled debut turns 25. Now, Suicidal Tendencies isn't a metal record. Other than a few metal-ish leads, it's hardcore punk. It's also Suicidal Tendencies at their most vicious - and fun. They weren't weighed down yet by a subconscious, radio concerns, or experimentation with metal and funk; they were just snotty punks going for it. The video for "Institutionalized," where Mike Muir looks like he's 15, is one of the great treasures of the '80s. (That's Slayer's Tom Araya pushing Muir at 0:35.) Between it, Black Flag, Repo Man, and Dogtown and Z-Boys, I have this warped image of '80s SoCal as a beachfront heaven of punk shows filled with dudes in plaid and skaters doing that old-school, horizontal, hand-on-the-ground style. Happy 25th to one of the most awesomely juvenile albums ever.

Institutionalized
I Saw Your Mommy

Voivod - Dimension Hatröss

by Cosmo Lee

Last weekend marked the 20th anniversary of Voivod's Dimension Hatröss. The core of Voivod's golden era trilogy, it bridged Killing Technology's departure from prior Motörhead worship and Nothingface's prog polish. The record remains revelatory today. That's because it's elusive; it hits you and runs away at the same time. So much metal feels like an end game: head for death as fast and hard as possible. Voivod did that early on, but then they started poking and prodding and turning things inside out. By Dimension Hatröss, the band had twisted thrash into strange, futuristic forms. (Perhaps it was a spiritual forebear of Meshuggah.) Denis "Piggy" D'Amour (RIP) was recognizable within a few notes, a distinction few guitarists ever reach. Other things were going on here, particularly conceptually with regard to the band's Voivod mascot - see this interview - but for me, this is where Piggy found his six-string voice.

Tribal Convictions
Macrosolutions to Megaproblems

The Dimension Hatröss demos are available here.

Dio - Rainbow in the Dark

Yesterday marked the 25th anniversary of Dio's first solo record, Holy Diver. The title track has made inroads into popular culture (South Park, the Judgment Night soundtrack, Killswitch Engage's cover and its ridiculous video), but "Rainbow in the Dark" inspires more love, even though no one really knows what it's about. People have tried to parse it (attempt #1, attempt #2); the most cogent explanation seems to be Dio's feeling of alienation after leaving Black Sabbath and/or Rainbow.

The song's video is beyond explanation, though. A creepy man follows a woman into a Soho sex shop, whereupon he is repelled by a ferociously youthful Vivian Campbell. Bassist Jimmy Bain joins Campbell in the street, while their boss lip syncs on some rooftop. It's all quite baffling. Evidently, Dio is not fond of the song - it's the poppy aberration on Holy Diver - but he is in the minority. "Rainbow in the Dark" has the second greatest synth hook of all time (#1 and #3 would be Europe's "The Final Countdown" and Usher's "Yeah!"); it and Dio's purple boots are beyond reproach.

Living Colour - Stain

Speaking of black metal, Sunday marks the 15th anniversary of Living Colour's Stain. I'm admittedly not a huge fan of the band, as their records are wildly disjointed. They have a soul singer for a vocalist (Corey Glover), Ornette Coleman-meets-Eddie Van Halen for a guitarist (Vernon Reid), and an avant-funk rhythm section (Will Calhoun and Doug Wimbish/Muzz Skillings), with songs that range from reggae and afro-pop to full-on metal.

This Little Pig
Go Away
Bi

But Stain is by far my favorite Living Colour record. It's their heaviest, darkest, and most focused work. This was perhaps partially due to the departure of Skillings, the bassist on the sunnier first two records (the Living Colour most people know). Wimbish replaced him with an assault of slapping and harmonics; when he and Calhoun launched into phrases, they sounded like exploding shells. Reid had probably been listening to thrash; check out the Megadeth-esque riff at 2:15 in "Go Away" and the frantic riffing in "This Little Pig." Glover, too, was pissed off and alienated - see titles like "Go Away," "Mind Your Own Business," and "Auslander."

Yet things aren't all black, so to speak. Despite its lyrics ("All I have to feel is my loneliness / Nothing in the attic except an empty chest"), "Nothingness" has lush, '80s-esque synths. "WTFF" could have been a Public Enemy instrumental. As an ode to bisexuality, "Bi" beat Blur's "Girls & Boys" by a year: "My lover told me, well, that she's bi / I wanted to scream, there were tears in my eyes / She said, baby, baby, don't you cry / 'Cause the one I am with, you've been seeing on the side." Some very straight white boys and I covered "Bi" at a high school battle of the bands. You had to have been there.

Amazon has Stain digitally and extremely cheap physically.

Immolation - Here in After

This month marks the 20th year of Immolation's existence. I saw them play last night alongside Averse Sefira, Belphegor, and Rotting Christ. My expectations were high, and the band far exceeded them. Like many, I've burned out on death metal in the last few years - or maybe it's burned out. But recent strong shows (and records) by Decrepit Birth and Hate Eternal, and now Immolation, have convinced me death metal's not dead yet.

Burn with Jesus
Here in After

Ironically, such life comes from the old school. Bands like Cannibal Corpse and Suffocation weren't influenced by death metal because they were inventing it. Thus, early Cannibal Corpse was like early Kreator revved up, and Suffocation incorporated all kinds of "-core" long before "deathcore" was a last.fm tag. They were unique, a quality sorely lacking in today's bands. The whole goregrind subgenre is pointless when there's already Carcass and Cannibal Corpse. Given parity in execution, innovation trumps imitation.

Last night's show reinforced the uniqueness of Immolation. Their sound is recognizable almost instantly, which isn't even true for, say, Cannibal Corpse or Deicide. The key is guitarist Robert Vigna, who should have ranked much higher on Decibel's Top 20 Death Metal Guitarists. As an idiosyncratic stylist, he's Trey Azagthoth's equal. His pinch harmonics and nagging bends give Immolation an atmosphere usually found only in black metal; Hate Eternal's Erik Rutan has also mined such territory in recent years.

Vigna at left

Vigna's live performance adds another dimension to his sound. Normally, I'm skeptical of axe-waving guitarists; I have seen bands do incredibly lame choreographed guitar-waving. But Vigna's punctuating spaces and physically embodying his riffs. He does something I've never seen anyone else do - claw out chords with upstrokes, even on lower strings. He looks like he's ripping notes out of his guitar. This is probably for show, but what a show it is. His pick hand flies one way, and his fretting hand the other way; he carves shapes in the air like an orchestral conductor. It's thrilling to watch - see this short YouTube clip, as well as this one.

Many cite 1991's Dawn of Possession as their favorite Immolation record. It's good, the archetypal feral debut. But Immolation didn't sound like Immolation until 1996's Here in After. The record brought out pinch harmonics and nagging bends in full force; check out the groaning riffs at 0:13 in "Burn with Jesus" and the intro to "Here in After." At this point, Immolation still packed too many riffs into songs - later streamlining would arguably culminate in the monolithic Harnessing Ruin - but they were undeniably fresh and hungry. Today's robotic Necrophagist acolytes would do well to take note.

Van Halen - Self-Titled

Yesterday marked the 30th anniversary of Van Halen's debut. I'm reading Everybody Wants Some, Ian Christe's fine biography of the band, and I've had fun revisiting the old records (that is, until the Sammy Hagar era; 5150 is fucking repulsive). They're fascinatingly varied (Fair Warning and 1984 are almost polar opposites), but I keep coming back to Van Halen. I cannot tire of this record.

On Fire
Ice Cream Man
Ice Cream Man (John Brim original)

Robert Christgau's Consumer Guide review:

For some reason Warners wants us to know that this is the biggest bar band in the San Fernando Valley. This doesn't mean much--all new bands are bar bands, unless they're Boston. The term becomes honorific when the music belongs in a bar. This music belongs on an aircraft carrier. C

What music, exactly, belongs on an aircraft carrier? (And why does aircraft carrier music get a C?) Perhaps Christgau meant music of macho-ness and/or athleticism. Van Halen is guilty of both, of course. "You know you're semi-good lookin'" comes to mind, as does every other lick Eddie Van Halen plays. But that's not the point. This record is about being full of cum, noize, and hunger, and putting up with David Lee Roth long enough to harness his ADD-led zing.

Of Van Halen's four singles, only "You Really Got Me," a Kinks cover, would make it on today's originality-bereft radio. "Runnin' With the Devil" is too dark and plodding (I never got why Van Halen records often began with plodders, as the band wasn't good at plodding - which was all it did with Hagar). The chaste heroine of "Jamie's Cryin'" would never make it on radio now - but her slutty doppelgängers in Tone-Loc's "Wild Thing" definitely would.

On second thought, "You Really Got Me" might not be a hit today. Eddie's sound is too edgy. His tone here is monstrous. The intro to "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" is breathtakingly orgasmic. Its barbed palm-muting charged with phaser and delay, with a stinging pinch harmonic goosing the end of the riff - that intro is the song.

On Fire

In general, Eddie's playing here would never make it on radio today. He crosses bar lines. Radio today - neutered, polished, formatted - doesn't cross bar lines. In the cover of bluesman John Brim's "Ice Cream Man," Eddie rockets into his solo with stratospheric major key licks, then zooms back down by moving the same fretting shape across the strings (an EVH trademark - see also "Hot for Teacher").

It's not diatonically "correct" - and that's why it's so electric. At his best, Eddie launched into nail-bitingly implausible acrobatics, yet always stuck the landing. Other guitarists have been faster or more technical, but few have conveyed the same fire (Trey Azagthoth and Dimebag Darrell have come close). A guitar solo, "Eruption," as the second track? That would never happen on a major label record today.

The most underrated aspect of early Van Halen was the backup vocals. When "I'm the One" morphs from a smoking solo to perfect barbershop harmonies - rival bands must have heard that and thought, "Fuuuuuck." "Feel Your Love Tonight" has backups so awesome, they make me headbang. The "tonigh-igh-igh-ight" melismas circling as a round - heaven in the backseat indeed.

Van Halen saves its best for last. "On Fire" is front-to-back mindblowing, from Eddie's tick-tock harmonics, to the "I'm on fiyaaah" backups that damn near make my head explode, to the crushing riff after the first chorus, to the evil, King Diamond-esque "fire" refrain afterwards, to Alex Van Halen's juggling act of a fill coming out of the bridge - how many babies were conceived to this song??? Van Halen II mimicked its predecessor, replacing "Runnin' With the Devil" with "You're No Good" and "Eruption" with "Spanish Fly" - but the band would never recapture such magic.

Invisible Oranges turns 1

Invisible Oranges turns 1 today. It's come a (somewhat) long way since its start as a dumping ground for reviews that didn't fit into publications for which I write. The first entry wasn't that bad, actually. I'm pleased that the featured band, The Sceptic, now has a human drummer and a killing new demo track up on its MySpace.

What started as an afterthought has turned into my favorite place, by far, to write on metal. While it's nice to see my "real" work online or in print, here I'm only beholden to myself. The website is probably frustratingly schizophrenic to read, what with demos and signed bands mixing it up with YouTube videos and random think pieces. But that's just the nature of my experience with metal - fragmentary, catch-as-catch-can, but ultimately a pleasure...to kill (cue rimshot).

I tried to think of appropriate metal songs for the birthday theme. Unsurprisingly, few came to mind. Not much metal deals with the joys of youth (not counting nearly an entire Motörhead catalogue that celebrates drinking, brawling, and so on). Also, not much metal is about aging, as it usually skips ahead to the death part. Thus, here are two cheery anthems about...time. Thanks for reading.

Death Angel - Seemingly Endless Time
Iron Maiden - Wasted Years

Disincarnate - Dreams of the Carrion Kind

James Murphy (not the LCD Soundsystem dude) is like the Pharrell Williams of metal (bear with me on this one). You want him behind the boards, and he can give you a hot 16 bars. But let him loose on his own, and shit gets unpredictable (my simile pretty much breaks down at this point). Since today is Murphy's birthday, I was originally going to post about one of his two solo records.

Stench of Paradise Burning
Monarch of the Sleeping Marches

Then I listened to them. Man, were they tough going. When you go from a turgid power ballad with Chuck Billy and some woman on vocals to a jazz fusion instrumental to an eight-minute Alice in Chains grungefest, the ride ain't easy. The dude can shred, as Decibel observed in its Top 20 Death Metal Guitarists feature. But songwriting skills? Not so much.

The big exception is Disincarnate, his one-off death metal band back in the '90s. I bought Dreams of the Carrion Kind (Roadrunner, 1993) when it first came out, mostly because of its Dave McKean artwork. At the time, I didn't get it. The album seemed gray and faceless, nowhere near as immediate as my beloved Carcass and Entombed.

Disincarnate

But I'm hearing it again with fresh ears, and damned if every song doesn't kick my ass. I dig Murphy's work with Death and Obituary, and especially on Testament's Low. But for sheer sustained Murphified awesomeness, I'll put my money on Disincarnate.

The riffs are like steel locomotives, and Murphy constructs amazingly monolithic, abstract harmonies. Suffocation only wish they wrote that breakdown in "Monarch of the Sleeping Marches." Best of all, the record isn't too fast. The speeds vary, but they leave space for heaviness, letting double bass carry the grooves.

Quite simply, this shit rules. One of the best death metal records of all time? Perhaps. Happy 40th, James - please bring this band back!

Insanity - From the Grave

The sticker on From the Grave says, "Classic Underground Death Metal as Covered by Napalm Death on 'Leaders Not Followers II'!" This may not seem like much to hang a hat on, but Napalm Death does a fierce, downtuned version of "Fire Death Fate," which it heard on an '85 demo via the tape-trading circuit.

Morbid Lust
Fire Death Fate ('85 demo)
Fire Death Fate (Napalm Death cover)

That three-song demo leads off this compilation, which also includes the Death after Death full-length. German label M.B.R. originally released it in 1994, but Insanity redid the album in 1997 with new vocal and guitar tracks. The compilation closes with 8-track demos with likewise patchwork recording histories.

To further complicate matters, 2004's Ultimate Death compilation contained most of these demos, and the '85 demos also appeared on a 7" that came with Snakepit magazine #15. However, From the Grave seems to be the most comprehensive collection of this material, and it comes with a band history and liner notes by Napalm Death's Barney Greenway and Exhumed's Matt Harvey.


The latter evidently put this out on his Parasitic Twin label in 2005. However, the publicity for it seems fairly fresh, and Decibel recently reviewed it, so maybe it's been reissued, or gotten new distribution?

Record nerd info aside, Insanity never got the recognition its demo seemed to portend. With ripping riffs and howling vocals, the band might have become death metal legends alongside Death and Possessed. But vocalist/guitarist Joe DeZuniga passed away 20 years ago today, and the band never recovered momentum. However, Dave Gorsuch, whose vocals appear on every non-'85 demo track here, has kept Insanity going; evidently a new full-length is in the works.

With copious photos and liner notes, From the Grave is a worthwhile slice of death metal history. You can get it at Black Lung Productions.

Ozzy Osbourne - Tribute

Suicide Solution (with guitar solo)
Dee (Randy Rhoads studio out-takes)

Epic
1987


Today marks the 25th anniversary of Randy Rhoads' passing. Five years afterwards, Ozzy Osbourne released Tribute, featuring live cuts recorded while on tour for Blizzard of Ozz. They're good, not great. The band isn't tight, and Tommy Aldridge turns in an amazingly boring drum solo. Amusingly, Ozzy keeps telling the crowd to stand up. But, of course, the focus of the album is Randy Rhoads.

His short discography (two albums each with Quiet Riot and Ozzy) documented an incredibly meteoric rise. In 1977, the first Quiet Riot album came out, a pleasant collection of glam rock. One could tell Rhoads was good, but he was just playing for the songs. His playing was slightly more colorful on the more accomplished, yet more jaded Quiet Riot II. Two years later was Blizzard of Ozz, an immense step up. Rhoads' classical influences were coming out, and his playing felt much more "serious." Working with Ozzy instead of Kevin DuBrow must have helped in that regard. Then came the mindblowing Diary of a Madman. That solo in "Over the Mountain" - jeezus!

Rhoads' style was a lot like Eddie Van Halen's. In fact, they had similar backgrounds. They were both classically trained, switching to electric guitar from other instruments, and they were the only guitarists in their bands, which gave them room for noises and embellishments. Their legacy was firebreathing guitarists who played rhythm, lead, and everything in between (e.g., Dimebag Darrell). Van Halen was bluesier, though, and if Rhoads had remained alive, he would have continued further on his classical path. There's a great picture in a slideshow by Rudy Sarzo that shows Randy looking up classical guitar teachers in the Yellow Pages. While on tour, he would take lessons from local teachers - imagine getting that phone call!

The Rhoads-related bits on Tribute actually aren't his best moments. His unaccompanied solo in "Suicide Solution" is rather short (for some reason, the song was edited so Ozzy gave the same intro twice). I haven't heard the "Laughing Gas" solo from Quiet Riot's The Randy Rhoads Years, but I've read that it's longer, yet substantially similar. As a child, I saw a transcription of the "Laughing Gas" solo and was in awe of how physical it was, with hammer-ons, pull-offs, two-handed tapping, and bending at the headstock (I think). The studio outtakes of "Dee" are kind of painful. You hear Rhoads screw up for four minutes, with tons of reverb. However, you also hear him talk, which is a treat. The guy was human, yet he somehow made polka-dotted guitars seem cool. RIP Randall William Rhoads (December 6, 1956 - March 19, 1982).