546: Return of the Warlord

Song of the day:

Manowar, Return of the Warlord

"Time to burn, you losers better learn

No one controls our goddamn lives,

We do just what we feel,

riding horses made of steel,

We're here to burn up the night"

I remember when this was new. My friend would tape Headbangers' Ball of MTV and then we'd watch it 'round at my house. It was presented by some random blonde. I think it might still be on now, but its probably crap what with all this lame ass pussy pop-metal that all the kids, with safety pins in their school ties, are bopping to. Back then metal was Pantera, Metallica, Sepultura; it was Judas Priest, Iron Maiden. It was Napalm Death, Cannibal Corpse, Anal Cunt. All the greats. And suddenly it was Manowar, a band I had never heard of; get with the 90s grandad. We had giddy fits of laughter at this unbelievably cheesy video; bikes, big-titted blonde bimbos, leather, shooting pool, counting dollar bills on saddles, and pointing. Lots of pointing. He's pointing at you, ha ha ha, we'd laugh and tease each other. No, he's not, fuck off. He's pointing at you.

Fifteen years later and I'm still rocking the Manowar. They're like a good version of Led Zepplin, without all the shitty bongo bits and meaningless hippy-drippy soundscapes. Led Zepplin suck, sorry people, it's true. Anyway, why am I going on about Led Zepplin? (I bet in ten years time I'll be writing a blog about how I've just discovered how great Led Zepplin are. I used to hate The Who, and you know what? Now, I don't think they are too bad. I digress.)

DEATH TO FALSE METAL is the phrase so associated with Manowar, emblazoning their album covers and peppering their lyrics like themes and sword wounds. DEATH TO FALSE METAL. Say it loud, I'm metal and I'm proud. If Manowar wrote national anthems we would all be nationalists. Warriors of the World United should be the national anthem for a United Earth to help stir the blood in defence of this great planet against the attacking might of the Moonmen from Mars. With their green skin and their weird facial suckers. And that nasty probiscus thing they've got. And that what-the-hell-is-that hanging between those... leg... things:

We alone are fighting,

for Metal that is true.

We own the right,

to live the fight.

We're here for all of you.

Now swear the blood

upon your steel will never dry.

Stand and fight together,

beneath the battle sky.

Brothers everywhere

Raise your hands into the air.

We're Warriors.

Warriors of the World.

Soon after discovering Manowar, I went to the Market in Lancaster (which used to be great, before idiotic mismanagement killed the decades old trading ground), to the record shop run by the big sullen long-haired old headbanger in the Metallica t-shirt. That guy. He had three 12" records tucked away behind the counter, in his special spot. They were Sign of the Hammer, with it's boring cover art, and Fighting the World and Into Glory Ride, with their magnificently silly macho-barbarian band pictures. Into Glory Ride contains, to this day, my favourite Manowar song, Gloves of Metal. At one point the music stops and singer Eric Adams screams five words which sum up Manowar and 80s Metal better than anything:

LEATHER, METAL, SPIKES AND CHAINS!!!!!!

"We are the undefeated,

We're not living in the past,

We're here tonight to

KICK SOME GODDAMN ASS!!!!

Feel the power of the wheel,

Let's drink to riding steel,

LIVING HARD AND RIDING FAST!!!!!!!"

-Manowar, Return of the Warlord

DEATH TO FALSE METAL 

132: back when music was metal, metal was METAL and mtv was Headbanger's Ball

Get me a reflective surface and a deodorant stick, or remote control that can stand in for a microphone, and in my head I’m a shirtless longhaired tattooed roaring screaming metal singer belting out the classics by Pantera, Fear Factory, Cradle of Filth, Sepultura, White Zombie, Marilyn Manson...  It’s time to re-plaster my bedroom walls with articles on Insane Clown Posse, home-made Anti-Christ Superstar banners and posters of female bass players in below average metal bands. 

Every time I’m feeling low a suicidal-headlights-off crash down darkest memory lane always cheers me up.  Back when metal was exciting; all sorts of new ideas were creeping in like the Power Groove from Pantera, the occasional melodic vocal section of Fear Factory, even the attempted rapping of Limp Bizkit held the briefest of appeals.  For a moment in time these stylistic flirtations were perfectly in balance; they added to the metal without detracting. 

Now we are in the doldrums.  All the old bands are shit: Marilyn Manson, Insane Clown Posse, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Cradle of Filth... Some of these bands are still going, but it is an incontrovertible proven fact that not a one of them has released a single scab of good music since 1997.  All the best songwriters are dead: Dimebag Darrell, Pete Steele.  All the great ideas have gone too far and been milked to death; METAL turned to Metal, then metal, then (metal)... then emo.......... 

I’ve only myself to blame for not paying attention for most of a decade.  Perhaps if I’d kept watch none of this would have happened.  Instead I was off gallivanting with IDM, hip hop, country, post-rock, pop, sometimes even just generic rock.  Oh, what was I thinking?

Where has all the anger gone, the rage, the screaming?  STOP FUCKING SINGING YOU SILLY CHILDREN.  Occasionally a band like Trivium or Mastadon will grab my attention; oh, is metal back on form?  It’s got screaming, dizzying solos; is this it!?  Oh no, singing.  Wimpy shitty singing has gone and ruined another piece of perfectly good music.  (Aside:  I better give these two bands another try before I dismiss them completely.)

 Blah.  Here’s a load of videos:  I’ve thrown them loosely and messily on the table:  Watch them/don’t watch them:  Take them with you forever, or leave them where you found them for someone else’s pleasure.  They’ve treated me well over these years, but now I gift them to you: