Priestess - Prior to the Fire
In a near-future, post-apocalyptic wasteland, motorcycle engines backfire in long, syncopated off-kilter jazz spirals and the giant unblinking eye gazes down on dramatically posed skull-headed shield maidens whose inflated mammaries threaten the structural integrity of studded faux-leather. Nerds ride on brimstone, brimstone rides on extended whip-tight guitar solos, and the guitar solos ride on nothing, mother-fucker, because guitar solos don’t need no steed.
Priestess does radio prog-metal so well that it’s hard to believe you can purchase their digital music on the internets; this stuff should only be available on vinyl. “Ladykiller”, which opens the album, is a full-throttle war between metal rant and classic-rock strut which stomps on Judas Priest, nods to Iron Maiden and Rainbow, and even comes within polishing distance of Lemmy’s grizzled boot. “The Firebird” is even better, with total retro-crap lyrics ( “waiting for the morning/waiting for the sun to rise”) set to a deep, bottom-heavy riff which evokes doom while still keeping that fusion edge — like St. Vitus trying to imitate Tony Williams. “The Gem” provides the obligatory bloated eight-minute epic, while “Communicating Via-Eyes” adds the obligatory (but lovely) acoustic folk intro.
In short, this album would be a perfect, utterly satisfying blast of retro head-banging nostalgia except for two things. First...this should really be a concept album, damn it. Second, and somewhat more painfully, singer Mikey Heppner is...well, he’s not very good. Admittedly, radio metal acts often didn’t have conventionally great vocal performances. But they did have idiosyncratic charisma, whether it was Rob Halford’s borderline musical- theater macho camp or Geddy Lee’s quavering dog-whistle or the faux-operatic excesses of Uriah Heep. Heppner, in contrast, seems to have wandered out of a '90s indie-rock band: a little bit nasal, a little bit earnest, a little bit too uptight to fly his camp flag and really put on a show. It’s true that I’m not a big fan of that style of pop-punk singing anyway, but putting it in my metal is truly egregious. The down-tuned, hyper-arranged “We Ride”, for example, would probably be my favorite track on the album if Heppner didn’t sound like he was auditioning for the Foo Fighters. Damn you, Dave Grohl! Must you ruin all heavy music everywhere?
To be fair, Heppner’s singing is for the most part indifferent rather than actively irritating; through most of the tracks I’m happy enough to ignore it. And for at least one welcome song, he just shuts up altogether. Drummer Vince Nudo takes over the vocal chores on “Lunar,” and he’s great. Declamatory, stentorian, with touches of campy vibrato: that’s what I want from my retro-prog.
Recommended Tracks: “Ladykiller”, “Firebird”, “Communicating Via-Eyes”
