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Forty years have passed since that humble and heavy debut.
Mick Box and his Uriah Heep are still on the road, reasonably proud to tell tales of demons and sorcerers, fireflies, and fallen angels, boasting a perseverance that has few equals and the honor earned with weapons and sweat. Weighed down and aged, of course, because this life makes no concessions to anyone. But how much emotion is still behind those sounds. Vibrations that survive the passing of seasons, the numerous lineup changes, the companions lost along the way, the few lights and many shadows of the eighties and... Melissa Mills. Now, I sincerely hope the venomous Rolling Stone journalist did not keep her promise, but with equal frankness and ideally in unison with the Heepsters, I would like to tell her today: go to hell!
Luckily for us, the "Beach Boys of heavy rock" made it, despite the many (too many) detractors. Time has in part restored them their undeniable merits, while they have continued to gift us precious gems over the years, such as this “Sea of Light.” An album that celebrates 25 years of career in the best way and recalls the flavors of those early seventies, right from the splendid and celestial cover by the rediscovered Roger Dean.
Mickey and company succeed in the arduous task of forging a modern and aggressive sound, which will also be the basis for subsequent and equally valid works, while at the same time remaining true to its roots. All thanks to a now seasoned lineup (Box-Kerslake-Bolder-Lanzon-Shaw), demonstrating enviable harmony, and which is likely to be remembered as the most enduring of the band. The sea of light is the elixir of long life for the Heep, the pleasure of returning to vibrate, a timeless formula that mixes aggressiveness and sweetness, echoes of the past and temptations of the present.
Hard rock 360°, which brushes the coasts of AOR and lets itself be intoxicated by progressive aromas, but does not divert its attention from its own course in search of melody. One realizes that ultimately little has changed since that distant 1970: the passion and persistence are the same, and they marry with a newfound vigor that other seventies dinosaurs can now forget about. And then there’s their trademark, those unmatched vocal harmonies that caused so much nose-turning at the time, between delicate falsettos and piercing high notes, which even today are still so powerful and recognizable.
It may or may not be your genre, but these gentlemen deserve the respect of all of us.
Long live the Heep.
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