Helstar
The King of Hell

LA RECENSIONE

Raise your hand if you remember them, part 2.

To most, the name Helstar will mean absolutely nothing, but there exists a small group of fanatics who revere them almost like deities. Okay, let's not exaggerate, not deities, but they definitely hold them in high regard.

Who are they? Formed way back in 1982 in Texas, this band has always distinguished itself with powerful heavy metal, featuring brisk tempos and two guitarists exchanging solos profusely, all accompanied by the recognizable voice of James Rivera, a true staple of the American metal scene. Alongside groups like Jag Panzer, they are part of that lineup of bands that, for a thousand reasons, deserved far more than what they actually achieved, but in the end, one can be satisfied even with this. Remembered for albums today considered minor classics of the genre such as "Remnants of War" and "Burning Star," the Texans, as tradition dictates, disappeared from the scene after spending the eighties at decent levels, vanishing just as "Nevermind" hit the stores, without ever breaking up, but continuing their activities under a profile that calling low would be an understatement.

In the middle of the last decade, after Rivera had practically lent his vocal cords to the cause of virtually every North American heavy outfit, the band, miraculously, managed to reunite a good part of its historic lineup, to the delight of various Greek and German metal festival enthusiasts. After "Sins of the Past," a re-recorded anthology serving well as a warm-up, "The King of Hell" hits the stores, and surprise, it's better than one might expect. Not a masterpiece, to be clear, but an honest classic heavy metal album, excellently played and for once, with production that is up to par.

If the cover is as gaudy as it gets, which is fine for a genre like metal, the album does not betray expectations, showcasing musicians who, despite many years of semi-forced hiatus, still have various arrows in their quiver. No one should expect innovations or directional changes; here they pick up the discourse right where they left it eighteen years earlier, and in fact, the elements are the same, those taught by the masters Judas Priest in their glory days: high notes, profuse solos, double bass drum galore. The lyrics aren't too important, let's be honest, and it's a bit amusing that folks in their fifties are still putting improbable monsters on the cover, but the genre demands this, so there's no use complaining.

The sturdy heavy of Helstar still works great, almost as if grunge, nu-metal, and anything ending in "core" never existed: the title track is a wallop, always teetering between heavy and thrash, and "The Plague Called Man" confirms the initial impressions. The album suffers from a few highs and lows, the tracks aren't always sharp, but the notable moments, thankfully, aren't limited to just side A: "Caress of the Dead" is worth it, as well as "Pain Will Be Thy Name," characterized by an aggressive falsetto, and the closing "Garden of Temptation," which almost reaches nine minutes in length. What to say? A welcome return that has, in fact, marked the beginning of a second youth for the five Texans, who from that moment on have returned definitively to activity, both in the studio and live, and now, between festivals and their own dates, have become regular visitors to our country as well. A step below the classics of the past, but it's a pleasure to note that, occasionally, there are reunions with really something to say. The Infernal Star of Texas still shines high in the sky.