Def Leppard
Def Leppard

Introduction:

Pop metal exploded in the mid-eighties and thrived worldwide for seven or eight years... Italy basically excluded, for some quite idiosyncratic reason to this genre. Perhaps here, crossovers don't pay off, meaning either you are die-hard metalheads and if so, you believe we're talking about weaklings, or metal is considered mindless noise and childish regardless, even in its softer, rounder, adult forms.

For those who aren't prejudiced against the topic, or even interested, it's worth noting that, as with almost any other music genre, in pop metal there have been (from top to bottom) pioneers and forerunners, then the good and inspired, the dignified and charming, and still the inept and inadequate, down to the unbearable and tacky.

Of course, everyone is free, according to taste and expertise, to garnish these five classes of merit with more or less abundant series of reference artists... For some, all names that come to mind will be at least dignified... for many, however, the choice will simply oscillate between inadequate and unbearable.

I, who was quite in touch with this genre at the time, having played it (along with its cousin A.O.R.) for a good part of the eighties and nineties with several of my bands, while simultaneously accumulating a significant (in retrospect, excessive) collection of pioneers, the good, the charming, some inept, and even a few tacky ones, now find myself far from the drunkenness of those times but not so revisionist; therefore, I feel able to express a judgment, if not unbiased, at least balanced, on these favorites of mine from thirty years ago.

So I willingly picked up this eleventh and so far latest work (2015) by Def Leppard, though without rushing to do so, rather waiting for a first sale opportunity.

Context:

The five guys belong to the honorable battalion of pop metal pioneers and forerunners, at the forefront of the heavy music revival in the early eighties. When the party and tens of millions of records hit ended in the nineties, they tried to diversify their offerings by getting lured, like almost everyone else, first by the grunge affair, then dabbling with some techno and industrial splashes without making any turning point in their careers, indeed gradually falling out of fans' favor.

Reaching fifty and now also sixty or nearly, with grown-up children and a bank account congruous and stable for decades, their willingness to still be together and make music, contenting themselves not with crumbs of what was once their success, but at least with a minimal fraction, is admirable.

The main architect of this longevity, I believe, is the frontman Joe Elliott. He reasons like this: “Yes, I love Mott the Hoople, David Bowie, Marc Bolan, and all that glam. I compose inspired essentially by these… what's wrong with that? My companions then insert other things into our music and what turns out is the Def Leppard style, with layered choruses and my way of composing the vocals…” No objection. Nothing genius, a lot of professionalism, passion, and honesty.

Strengths and shortcomings:

The most evident, though “abstract,” strength of the Deaf Leopard is the friendship and cohesion of the group. They didn’t come up as London dandies (like the Stones, for instance...) but as sons of the vast working class of tough Sheffield, the steel city of England, or even tougher, although for different reasons, Belfast in Northern Ireland, in the case of guitarist Campbell. Therefore, always the right humility, much internal democracy, a lot of enthusiasm in happy moments, rolling up sleeves in dark ones (the serious accident and consequent disability of their drummer and the death from alcohol abuse of one of the guitarists the most critical episodes), and always work, passion, and more work.

Album highlights:

This self-titled Def Leppard album opens in the name of restoration with the self-celebratory yet beneficially overpowering “Let’s Go.” Something already heard in melodies, rhythms, and arrangements (era “Hysteria”) but if the content is already known, the form here is at its best: the half-muted guitar riff is simple but overwhelmingly powerful; the drums are Bonzo-like detonating (all praise to Rick Allen, who with two legs but only one arm manages to play everything that needs to be played); the guitar sounds are enormous, pachydermic... we need to summon the long-exploded peers Boston to imagine sounds so sonorous and stuffed with harmonics.

The same goes for the subsequent “Dangerous,” very close in turn to “Pyromania” for the riff type and melodic simplicity (banality?).

Then audaciously irresistible is the brashly Queen-like “Man Enough”! A 50% “Another Bites the Dust” and a 40% “Invisible Man” at least in the potion served here, complete with a four-on-the-floor kick, pantagruelian dominant bass, voice, and guitar swells and fades. A true tribute, shameless, with no pretense.

On the fourth track comes the best in history, that is a power ballad titled “We Belong” to savor (for those not prejudiced against heavy ballads and their derivatives, of course): it starts with a delightful little riff of thoroughly groomed and warm moderately and roundly distorted Gibsons, immediately encountered by the atmospheric pedal bass, then the verses are sung one verse by one by all five! Specifically, the first verse by the singer, then the guitarist Collen, then the bassist, and finally guitarist Campbell: in the second, the drummer replaces the singer, and the other three follow in the same order as before. Elliott then takes up the solo voice in the choruses and the bridge. Damn, all five sing well! With special mention for Collen whose short stature belies a thick slightly hoarse baritone timbre that could easily allow him to be the frontman instead of Elliott.

From the fifth track onwards the set list becomes more ordinary and much less exciting. The quality rises again and significantly for the last time with the ninth track “Battle of My Own” and it isn't hard even this time to identify the inspirers: Led Zeppelin. There are indeed heavy, thick acoustic guitars in that certain inimitable manner, then accompanied by that certain oriental mellotron, to coin once more that heavy folk invented by Jimmy Page fifty years ago. We're decidedly in the realm of “Friends” in particular, to Led Zeppelin III, even if the title calls to mind “Battle of Evermore” while the vaguely Middle-Eastern keyboard work draws inspiration from “Kashmir”… two heavyweight pieces of the Zeppelin.

The rest:

As often happens in CDs, the average song quality is distributed to have peaks at the beginning, then gradually fading. Right so, but fourteen songs are too many… with a couple fewer chosen from the weaker ones, the album would benefit from greater compactness and total quality. Upon reaching the fourteenth track, one gets a bit tired of the Leppard, and the gripping first part of the album gets downsized. Let’s say something about a few more tracks:

In “Invincible,” the staccato guitar prominently shines, beautifully bloated Mick Ronson-style… a guy whose importance in tough but melodic music will never be sufficiently stressed. David Bowie and his friends are in the hearts and minds of many rockers, the Leppard included, and it shows in this song, albeit not excessively.

Damn, “Sea of Love” is instead an exaggerated homage! But not to Queen or Bowie, but to that vaguely-Beatlesque-but-personalized art of choruses by Tears for Fears. The title, intoned in a choir triumph at the refrain, even phonically recalls that “Sowing the Seeds of Love” from twenty-five years ago, one of the hits of the excellent pop duo from Bath. This ’80s super-chorus is cleverly interspersed with determined yet anonymous guitar playing along with rough and hard vocals in the verses, thereby standing out even more in contrast and recreating in its way that surprising melodic elevation effect in the song that all connoisseurs of “Sowing...” remember well. I don't rank it among the album's highlights because there's really a lot of derivative material here.

“Last Dance” and “Wings of an Angel” reek of Bon Jovi: not good, thumbs down. The second song also does it with the title, but at least you can admire the good work on the choirs… Elliott is really a good lad, sparing no expense on harmonies and vocal counterpoint.

The closing “Blind Faith” lasts at least a minute too long. It stays crouched, slow, and resonant, creating atmosphere first with guitar tremolos, then with violins, then with acoustics... It’s starting, it’s starting!… and when it finally starts, it doesn’t go very far. It stays there, it's late, and more than five minutes have passed. Amen.

Final judgment:

Well done, old folks! Still with the passion and desire to expand their repertoire despite the entrenched downsizing of the number of those who love them, or at least like them. And, commendably, all still without belly and double chin (though there might be some surgical touch-ups here and there, not to mention the hairdresser’s dyes!). Phil Collen, indeed, is a hard and pure bodybuilding enthusiast, and at sixty, he still flaunts a perfect six-pack abs, always generously suggestive behind the guitar he wears.

Satisfying though by no means indispensable this work… pure '80s Def Leppard rehashed. But there’s a lot of honesty and presentability, offered at the maximum of their current strength, with craftsmanship, energy, desire, experience. Excellent production, too! Top-notch guitars and drums, without breaking balls with long solos or mindless double bass drums, as always.

The real flaw is the minority of unleashed and powerful tracks, even wrapped in their characteristic hyper-melody and “ease” as only they know how to do. Too many ballads, too much atmosphere. Pity because they have so much drive when they get into it. More than live! On stage, all these vocal layers are just a dream even if all five have a microphone! And even the drive isn’t the same as in the studio… they are a recording group rather than a concert group.

I love them and respect them. A nice 7 for this album.