A Band Called Death

Faithful readers here have probably seen quite a bit about Death, the Floridian death metal pioneers lead by the late Chuck Schuldiner. But before Scream Bloody Gore, and more impressively before the Ramones, there was another band called Death.



The earlier Death, a Detroit garage band from the '70s, star in the stellar documentary A Band Called Death, which is now streaming on Netflix Instant. The film has been getting positive comparisons to the Oscar-winning hit Searching for Sugar Man, but unlike Sixto Rodriguez, interest in Death had been noticeably picking up before the film's release. Seven songs from the band's unfinished first album were released on Drag City as ...For the Whole World to See, and Jack White cited Death as a influence in a New York Times article. The surviving members have even reunited for a few performances.

The fact is, as Henry Rollins, Alice Cooper, Questlove and Kid Rock all testify in A Band Called Death, that this is a band that deserves your ears. Songs like "Keep on Knocking," "Let the World Turn" and "Politicians in My Eyes" hint that the band could have found a place in history alongside fellow Motor City protopunks as Cooper, the Stooges and the MC5 had they just been able to stick around. In one scene of A Band Called Death, the musicians remember being offered a deal with Clive Davis at Columbia Records, on the condition that they change their name. The band turned it down, and we're left to wonder what could have been.

Opinions vs. Observations

I could give you dozens of reasons as to why metal is better than reggae or techno. I'm happy to tell you why Death is better than Dååth, or why Suicidal Tendencies are better than Suicide Silence. At Governor's Ball last month, I watched Guns N' Roses utterly blow away Animal Collective and Kings of Leon. But in my heart of heart and brain of brains, I know that it's all just my opinion.

Then again, I don't. Consider, for example, that Trent Reznor is a better composer than Winds of Plague. This doesn't seem arguable. Understanding why something like The Downward Spiral is better than Decimate the Weak signifies an intelligent grasp of music, not an opinion. Who could argue that W.A.S.P. is better than Metallica? It would be like claiming that Dan Brown is a better writer than Kafka. I'm sure that some people actually believe it, but I'd hope that someday they'd mature enough to change their minds.

My concern about opinions and observations is where they start and where they end. There's a wide, blurry line between thinking that Nine Inch Nails is better than Animal Collective and knowing that they're better than Winds of Plague. Where does that line start and end? Is it when one artist stands the test of time? If so, how long is that? What constitutes as enough sense to decide what is an observation and what's an opinion? What gives me the authority to decide? Can observations change over time, as standards do?

The answer, my friend, is just your opinion.

Judas Priest, "Painkiller"

The sharpest point that I ever heard in the Priest vs. Maiden debate is that Judas Priest are more of a guitarist's band, whereas Iron Maiden are more of a bassist's band. Regardless of which side you fall on, this makes perfect sense. For all of their bombast, Maiden's solos are relatively succinct, and songwriter Steve Harris's basslines are right up there with Bruce Dickinson in the mix. Judas Priest practically founded metal's now-ubiquitous twin axe attack. It's no surprise that Lemmy prefers Iron Maiden, or that Kerry King champions Priest.



Nowhere are those lightning guitars better heard than in the title track to Painkiller. "Painkiller" doesn't just sound heavy for 1990, or for guys pushing 40. Listening today, in 2013, "Painkiller" is downright brutal, far nastier than any of the power metal it supposedly inspired. Drummer Scott Travis, making his first-ever appearance on a Priest record, wastes no time in implementing blast beats into the Priest formula, and it works shockingly well. Tipton and Downing's solos are so frenetic that even guitar wizard Chuck Schuldiner tried something completely different when he covered "Painkiller" on Death's final album. Rob Halford's frequency-pushing vocals are at an all-time high, perhaps acknowledging that he can go further now to complement his band's flourishing energy. Your parents might have even tolerated "Living After Midnight," but there was no way that they were getting down to this.

You'll hear about how Painkiller was Judas Priest's comeback, a response to two lackluster albums (Turbo and Ram it Down) and a sharply-delivered boot to a world of Poisons and Warrants.
But 1990 was an incredible year for metal. Painkiller was up against Rust in Peace, Seasons in the Abyss and Cowboys from Hell, all Album of the Decade candidates. More than a nail in the glam metal coffin, Painkiller was a gauntlet to the thrash and death metal legions, and an example of how Judas Priest could make a melody sound even meaner than a death growl. Listen to what Amon Amarth did with a similar main riff 18 years later--it completely rocks, but it still doesn't sting the same way.



To paraphrase Ornette Coleman, this is the shape of metal to come.

Metal Injection's Top 10 Influential Heavy Metal Albums

"Most influential album" lists are always futile, seeing how there's generally only a few supremely influential artists that would fill up the most accurate lists. All "influential albums" lists aim for diversity, but if we're being realistic, the ten most influential metal albums of all time are the first five Black Sabbath releases and the first five Metallica albums.

Even with that in mind, Metal Injection's list of the most influential metal albums is bewildering. Venom's fun but dated Black Metal over Slayer's nonpareil Reign in Blood? Dream Theater in the top ten metal anything? Nothing from Motörhead, Judas Priest or Megadeth? Scream Bloody Gore may have been Death's debut, but did it really grab more ears and shape the direction of metal more than Human or Individual Thought Patterns?

All that being said, I love this list. For the past two weeks, I've been checking the latest updates at 5pm and rushing home from work to see what the Metal Injection and Metal Sucks staff (and other headbanging experts) have to say about albums by At the Gates, Iron Maiden and Pantera. This is metal in the strictest sense, which means no Led Zeppelin, AC/DC or Van Halen, but also metal in that the MI list sticks it to conventions. This isn't your average Rolling Stone list with Paranoid and Master of Puppets, neither of which appear here, but a fresh look at classic metal records from some fans with the kind of Wayne and Garth enthusiasm that your average Pitchforkers are missing. After this, maybe even Slaughter of the Soul will turn up in Rolling Stone someday.

Enjoy the full list here.

Death to All at Irving Plaza

Gary Rossington, this is how you do it. Over ten years after Chuck Schuldiner's death from brain cancer, some of his bandmates, friends and admirers have joined forces to tour as Death to All, a Death tribute act donating 20% of their tickets to the Sweet Relief Musicians Fund.



Coincidentally performing on the day that the Supreme Court upheld Obamacare, Death to All played a two-and-a-half hour show dedicated to one of the first and best discographies in death metal. Obscura's Steffen Kummerer and Abysmal Dawn's Charles Elliott took vocals and guitarist duties, with varying degrees of talent and stage banter, but the draw was seeing Schuldiner's old bandmates, one of whom has gone on to be Gene Hoglan, play songs like "Crystal Mountain" and "Lack of Comprehension." Alex Skolnick and Richard Christy made Last Waltz-esque cameos. Reunited Canadian tech death act Gorguts played a smashing opening set. Other than a broken AC that had a few attendees literally passing out, it was a perfect tribute.