Manowar
Kings of Metal

Note: This review purposely does not consider the song "Pleasure Slave," already originally a bonus track, because its lyrics are indefensible. However, it would be biased not to acknowledge that the band itself, generally known for its ambiguous stances on certain topics, realized they had "gone too far" and did not fail to push it into the background.

The last great classic heavy metal album? Probably. I mean, "Painkiller" comes after this, but in a certain sense, the last great masterpiece of classic metal (or at least of a classic mold, albeit not without influences) is this one. It's the end of an era, "Painkiller" will already represent a different conception. In 1988, heavy metal is in its golden years. Let's not kid ourselves: the metal of those years reached cultural heights that have never been touched again. Nu metal is cool, alternative is interesting, black is awesome, death is really cool too, but everything born in the '80s was a glorious explosion.

In 1988, Manowar were not newcomers: some even considered them washed up. Instead, here is their final lash. Contrary to what many believe, Manowar often avoided jumping on trends. Pioneers of viking and epic, they weren't too seduced by pedal-to-the-metal speed in the thrash era and then, while Maiden was playing SSOASS, they released a masterpiece of heavy as ferocious as a street dog.

A roar: "Wheels of Fire." A unique opener, in which our heroes (a song reminiscent in conception to "Kill with Power") kick things off with utter epicness. Fast, schizophrenic, leaving you no breath, just beautiful. And it would become a model: does no one notice its resemblance to "Symphony of Steel" by the monumental Virgin Steel? The drumming that mimics a motorcycle engine during the chorus is insane. The title track is more hard-rock oriented, another killer track with studs on display and fists in the air (and in the poser’s face). "Heart of Steel" is the power-epic metal ballad par excellence, a declaration of strength. A big bass solo where De Maio has fun, and then "The Crown and the Ring," breathtaking. "Nothing is heavier than a choir and an organ." "Kingdome Come" eases off a bit (but honestly, it's still an eight-and-a-half out of ten song) and makes way for the stunning "Hail and Kill." An incredibly graceful and deadly riff, with the fierce and cruel femininity of a tigress, attacks the listener, featuring lyrics at the edge of brutality, a third verse with hair-raising falsettos, a chorus that bleeds energy. One of the best examples (along with the aforementioned Judas Priest masterpiece) where something not excessively heavy (sure, old Kreator or Cannibal Corpse songs are much heavier, to be clear) achieves a bestial, elegant and beastly ferocity. Four minutes go by and the grand finale arrives, the sister and completion of "Hail and Kill," the crowning achievement: "Blood of the Kings." A chorus that fills your soul, like it's taking you to Valhalla even if you’re just walking through an alley full of puddles and have to tell your parents you failed your written driving test (for the third time). A very worthy conclusion to a masterpiece, which itself, in a way, is a very worthy conclusion to an era.

De Maio is not a perfect bassist and we know it, but he’s solid and knows how to make his mark. Ross the Boss shows off lethal solos and riffs. Scott on drums is as precise as a submachine gun, his sharp hits no different from the axe on the enemy's skull. And what about Adams. Maybe he doesn’t have Dickinson’s gentility, Halford’s old-school falsettos, Dio’s warmth or Kiske’s clean range, but he has a bit of everything. A throat forged by the god Vulcan using water from the Styx to cool it down, iron lungs laced with gold, a timbre that can shake the mountains.

Over time, Manowar would end up as everyone knows, but it’s worth remembering their work from the eighties. Because I hate to use an old-fashioned phrase, but there aren’t bands like this anymore. There aren’t albums like this anymore. I admit my own background makes me watch the metalcore universe with unjustified suspicion, but honestly—what's so bad about still having the naivety of a sixteen-year-old believing he can defeat evil, blessed by Odin? Is there really any harm in the brotherhood between metalheads, in recognizing each other through a patch or a pin? Do we feel wrong wearing studs? Is it a sin to play epic metal? The answer isn’t up for debate. It’s no. Score: 95/100.