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Rating:
Who hasn't at least once, in the nineties, at a pub swapping musical maxims with pseudo-spitting metalheads after the third pint of double malt, heard: ''Who? Flotsam And Jetsam? Oh yeah...they're the ones where the new Metallica bassist started playing...'' And then back to the toilet to puke for the fourth time...
Let's be honest, after a stellar debut like ''Doomsday For The Deceiver,'' but especially after the subsequent departure of Jason Newsted, the main composer of the thrashers from Phoenix, how many imagined a work like ''No Place For Disgrace''? How many hoped for such a compelling show of strength? Now... we must give to Newsted what belongs to Newsted, namely the creation of what, in all likelihood, are the two masterpieces of the album, meaning the derailing title track and the Maiden-esque ''I Live You Die'' (as well as the effervescent ''N.E. Terror''); however his worthy replacement Troy Gregory (who, paradoxically, seemed to embody the first choice of the Frisco band for the post-Burton era), was anything but a mere replacement: we can describe him as an apt bond for the drummer Kelly David Smith's perils and tempo changes, a fitting link for the hallucinatory guitar work of the Gilbert/Carlson duo, but not a bleak substitute, for goodness' sake!
From the beginning, this album has completely impressed me with its vast display of superiority and musical competence; controlled speed fused with intelligent songwriting. In this sense, there is no finer example than the title track: a touching depiction of the final moments of a fallen Samurai before redeeming himself through suicide; we have the honor of witnessing a real Speed/Thrash ride, embellished by that acoustic interlude that intoxicates us halfway through the song. Moving. Spot on. Brilliant.
Indomitable, Erik Knutson's voice stands out, undoubtedly one of the best interpreters in Thrash history; I do not at all disdain the killer screaming of some of his illustrious colleagues, but, guys, when a singer of such a high level joins a band of such stature, the result can only be awesome and memorable (as was well demonstrated also by David Wayne of Metal Church and Joey Belladonna of Anthrax). For all those (like me) who have a background rooted in more traditional Heavy Metal, listening to a singer such as Erik in a platter of these proportions is a joy for the ears.
The tracks, one after the other, flow by imbued with excellence all too quickly: emotions and pathos are unleashed as in the semi-ballad ''Escape From Within'', the prototype of an ideal Power/Thrash song; sophisticated and impetuous compositions entered the history of the genre (''Dreams Of Death'', ''I Live You Die'', ''Misguided Fortune''); fragments of high danger are unleashed like ''N.E. Terror'', which presents oriental shades in the central bridge or ''P.A.A.B.'' (the main riff is fantastic). Magnificently capping it all off is the cover of Elton John (yes you read that right) ''Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting'' revised and reinterpreted in the Flots style for the occasion, complete with cheeky keyboards.
No objections can be presented. Flotsam And Jetsam are among the most overlooked bands (the fact that this review was missing from the 28,000 and counting confirms it) in Metal history; it is quite evident that they were harmed and bypassed by the early '90s musical revolution but it is equally undeniable that the first two albums, this one in particular, are to be listed in the Thrash archives under the ''milestone'' category.
For all the fans of the eighties who are unaware of such a marvel, I suggest, after banging your heads a dozen times against your studs, to rectify this immediately. Otherwise, as far as I'm concerned, I will not be as lenient as the Flots: you've booked yourself a nice little spot for disgrace...
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
05 Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (04:03)
[Original: Elton John]
It's getting late haven't seen my mates,
Ma tell me when the boys get here.
It's seven o'clock and I wanna mosh,
Wanna get my belly full of beer.
My old man's drunker than a bar full of whinos,
And my old lady she don't care.
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots,
A handful of grease in her hair.
[chorus:]</i>
Don't give us none of your aggravation,
We've had it with your discipline.
Saturday night's alright for fightin',
Get a little action in.
Get about as oiled as a diesel train,
Gonna set this town alight.
Saturday night's the night I like,
Saturday night's alright, alright, alright.
Well they're packed pretty tight in here tonight,
I'm looking for a bitch who will see me right.
I may use a little muscle to get what I need,
I may sink a little Jack and shout out: 'she's with me'.
A couple of sounds that I really like,
Are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class,
Whose best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
[repeat chorus]
Saturday's the night, yeah.
[repeat chorus]
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday,
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday,
Saturday night's alright.
[repeat and fade]
06 Hard on You (04:51)
Does it teach? Can it learn? Are you sure it's right?
One that's young sees the circled "R", does he buy it?
What the fuck! Can't he buy what he wants to hear?
You muzzle us, we'll muscle you! You'll live in demented fear.
Is it good for us or harmful? Does it enlighten or repress?
Our children need to know what's going on and that our world is a mess.
What the fuck! Can't we say what we think anymore?
Clean up the world, and we'll be singing praises forever more...
[chorus:]
Can't you see, you're ripping away our independence,
No one cares but you.
There's never a way to stop the music,
If you're hard on us, we're gonna be hard on you, H.O.Y!
Can't you see, you're ripping away our independence,
No one cares but you.
There's never a way to stop the music,
If you're hard on us, we're gonna be hard on you, H.O.Y!
You say teach the children right, who's to say we're wrong?
If your committee is so damn right, why did we write this song?
What the fuck! Can we write what we feel or not?
You muzzle us, we'll kick your ass!
You'll see that we can't be bought!
[repeat chorus]
07 I Live You Die (05:49)
Your life passes you by, I live, you die.
The arena is mine, I live, you die.
Entry of the gladiators, 264 B.C.
The emperors and nobles have made a pawn of me.
I battle slaves end free men and wild blood thirsty beasts.
The red sand surrounds me, so they can't see them bleed.
[chorus:]
Your life passes you by (I live you die).
The Reaper is near.
Again the arena is mine (I live you die).
I live you die.
Sword drawn and battle ready, Trajan in command.
Fight 'till death 100 days, corpses of 2000 men.
The masses they decide the fate of a fallen men.
Thumbs down in drunken haste, life's taker and giver I am.
[repeat chorus]
Innocent children dressed like the sacred lamb,
Taken for Nero's-slaughter, as the people look away,
To the pit dogs they are prey, the people look away... they look away...
I live, you die!
Persecuted Christians in the blood soaked ring.
Many over many lose their lives, peace to their soul it brings.
The thrills from the kills, those that I have slain,
Are keeping my heart pounding, I live another day.
Your live passes you by (I live you die).
The Reaper is near.
Again the arena is mine (I live you die).
I live again.
Your live passes you by (I live you die).
The Reaper is near.
Again the arena is mine (I live you die).
I live you die.
Die! Die! Die!
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