I have no idea why I didn’t review Blaze’s previous release, 2010’s excellent Promise and Terror. I meant to, but somehow it slipped through the cracks. Maybe I listened to it so much that I thought I’d already reviewed it? Maybe I’m psychic and subconsciously knew that I’d later regret giving Blaze a positive review? I don’t know how or why I neglected that album, but it was a truly amazing slab of traditional Heavy Metal, with a somewhat more modern production to beef up the crystal clear sound. It was so good that Blaze was apparently driven insane under its weight, and during (or perhaps just before) the supporting tour, fired his entire band and hired different scab musicians in every town to back him up. For real. Shit doesn’t get much more idiotic than that (although Blaze would find a way… several, actually), so I was understandably more than a little nervous about him recording a new album. And then I saw the ridiculously hubristic title: The King of Metal. The King? Really, Blaze? You? Not Halford? (Okay, he’s the Queen of Metal.) Not Dickinson? Not Dio? Not Lemmy? Not about 666 dudes more worthy of that title than Blaze cunting Bayley? Holy fuck. And then I noticed the “record label,” Blaze Bayley Recordings, which has, of course, only ever released Blaze Bayley albums. But still, I wanted this to be good. I dared to hope! Then I saw the track list. Second song: “Dimebag.” Could there be any chance that Blaze is talking about buying weed? Nope. It’s a love song to the ghost of that bitch from Pantera. I am glad that he is dead. I wish they had all been murdered. Let me spell this out for you: Pantera was a marketing gimmick, not a Metal band. If you don’t believe me, take a peek at their complete discography, including the early Glam albums they would later deny existed. Pantera was a corporate creation, not actual artists, and simply a way for their record company to safely present “rebellion” to the masses and relieve them of their cash. They did not create art, they produced products. But, I digress, so back to this particular musical miscarriage. Admittedly, the playing here is occasionally aggressive in places, mostly the drumming, and there are a few okay riffs, but the production is really lacking and unpolished. Surprisingly so. And the brief moments of okayness are far overshadowed by the sickening Butt Rock tendencies in some tracks (“The Black Country,” “One More Step,” “Judge Me,” “Beginning”), and Blaze’s intense, preposterous lust for the sound of his own strained, fading voice above all else (often, not surprisingly, greatly de-emphasizing the band to highlight it). It’s the difference between being in a band that writes actual songs, and thinking that your singing is so awesome and moving and perfect that you only need music at all just to back you up and quiet those mean jerks who expect guitars. It’s being a cunt, honestly. This was made even more annoyingly clear when Blaze recently scheduled a string of a cappella performances. (Not a joke - Google it.) Seriously, the guy who would call himself the King of Metal thinks that he doesn’t need guitars or drums. Fuck you, Blaze. Fuck you for making an album so offensively shitty that it has retroactively damaged your previous work. I’m glad that I didn’t review Promise and Terror because I’d now be embarrassed, and you should be, too.
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Anyone who likes Pantera should kill themselves.
I guess it was bound to happen… We have guitar wankers, bass wankers and drum wankers. Now we have vocal wankers. On the plus side, once we slit his throat, we don’t have to worry about him learning to vocalize with his ass because he’d be dead (at least, we sincerely hope he would be).
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