Grave Digger
Fields of Blood

They've pulled the kilts out of the wardrobe again, but from Grave Digger, I would have expected it. After all, it's been twenty years they've been suffering—or enjoying, if you prefer—a sonic and conceptual stagnation that allows them to bring home the good grades, without disgrace and without praise.

It's a bit like what happens in AC/DC's discography, where songwriting has never dazzled with creativity, especially in the "Post-Bon Scott" period, but it adheres to the usual, effective task of easily winning with the millions of fans who have been devouring their records for years.

Grave Digger today are just that, albeit in a less exponential form. Only that, as we said, they've become that in the last twenty years.

Their musical proposal is simple: unhealthy vocals, caustic riffs, and bone-crushing drumming, combined with a dark or epic mood, depending on the setting they weave.

The first album was in eighty-four, but the real good records would arrive much later. The creative peak can indeed be found in the 93/99 period, where a string of esteemed releases appears, which fans would later divide into two distinct phases: The Dark Trilogy (The Reaper, Symphony of Death, Heart of Darkness) and the Medieval Trilogy (Tunes of War, Knights of the Cross, Excalibur); the first with a gloomy and horrific stamp, the second with a historical/mythological background. The curtain falls with a record that presents no sound progression, but with a compositional inspiration that makes it equally memorable: Rheingold of 2003, a metallic—and at times symphonic—homage to the works of Richard Wagner.

From that moment until today, it's been about recycling material from the historical period, aiming to win easily by revisiting themes already tackled in the past. Fields of Blood is presented indeed as the rebellious but less convinced cousin of Tunes of War, and as the half-brother of the more recent The Clans Will Rise Again, irrefutable proof of Boltendahl's fanaticism regarding the Scottish revolution, a scenario that is woven for the third time in the band's history.

However, this time it is all more pompous and Hollywood-like, less proud and more tacky compared to the already mentioned masterpiece of '96, but at least it can be pleasantly listened to, despite suffering an inevitable series of ups and downs, probably due to the now dormant creative vein of the staff. Nevertheless, where there is no experimentation, skill arrives. The band is there; perhaps less inspired, but loaded and committed. The final result won't make you shout a miracle, but nor will it make you stare intensely at the trash can.

Listening to the intro The Clansman’s Journey—complete with bagpipes, like in the old days—it seems to be the prelude to a Celtic metal album, but the opener All For the Kingdom with its bare and raw verses and its grand choir refrains brings the listener into the metal dimension, proving that Grave Digger remain masters of beginnings. The mid-tempo The Heart of Scoltand is also nice and worth mentioning is Barbarian which pays homage to classic eighties metal while Freedom and Union From the Crown show the power side of the album—perhaps the most power-oriented since Excalibur.

We said it's an album of light and shadow, like the adventurous Lions of the Sea which has such tacky choruses to the point of making it almost ridiculous; or the unbearable rhythm of My Final Fight, forced and silly; the refrain of Gathering of the Clans that dampens quite inspired verses, and finally, a title-track that reveals itself as a surprise for its ten-minute duration, but that doesn’t always manage to hold the listener's attention, unlike the historic title track of Heart of Darkness, a rare case of a suite found in the band's discography, to be honest rightfully so, because Grave Digger (let's say it) are not made for these things, but should focus on catchy brisk pieces; if then, some innovation was added, so much the better; but a suite is certainly not the winning idea.

The album closes with Requiem for the Fallen, a symphonic outro quite emotional and inspired, like the ballad Thousand Tears, which tries to perform the Ballad of Mary act, succeeding only in part. Taken without comparisons, it's still a good piece, dreamy and melancholy.

In the end, I approve it, even though more could have been done, but at least it's not a big band that has made a mess (see Shadowmaker by Running Wild), but a big band that remains on the trail of the good album, making itself recognizable thanks to the usual trademarks, sheltering in a sound staticity that allows it to maintain the pass mark over time.

Without disgrace and without praise.