Spinefarm
March 27
Led by one of the finest guitarists on the planet, Black Label Society have always been a band you can rely on to deliver the goods. Each album from their 1998 debut Sonic Brew through to 2021’s Doom Crew Inc. has thrived on Zakk Wylde‘s guitar wizardry, all containing a similar strand of musical DNA while all still breathing fire as their own entity.
Such has been the prolific output from BLS that their upcoming album Engines Of Demolition – out March 27 – has also been their longest coming. Five years between albums – as any BLS fan will tell you – is at least three years too long so here’s hoping Wylde and co. have used the extended time period to their advantage.
Name In Blood opens proceedings on the back of a delicately structured guitar picking before a softer, almost angelic voice eases over the top – albeit only briefly. It doesn’t take long for the familiar strains of Zakk Wylde‘s prominant guitar sound to come in thick and fast and all of a sudden five years doesn’t really feel like so long.
This is vintage BLS, driven by a chunky as fuck guitar run, punctuated by Wylde‘s gravel tinged vocals that sound like they could easily spit venom whenever the occassion demands. Of course, Wylde doesn’t stand alone as the guitarist for BLS, with Dario Lorina sharing rhythm and lead duties. The pair form a devestating duo as they team up for repeated guitar tirades, ably given life by bass player John DeServio and drummer Jeff Fabb.
Gatherer Of Souls sprints out of the blocks on the back of a swirling guitar intro that pulls back into an even tempered chugg that provides the platform for Wylde to join in on vocals. The swirling mass of guitar, punctuated by a tasty as fuck chugging underbelly, continues throughout, leading us down a blues infused rock path complete with harmonious interludes and, of course, guitar solos.
The Hand Of Tomorrows Grave begins with a burst of guitars before a bout of reverb fades into the distance before dancing back into calculations to usher in a slower, more deliberate bout of almost stoner rock goodness. Already this song is the most structured track so far, Wylde singing with a slight drawl which adds even more of a Southern feel to proceedings.
Even the guitar solo seems to be more organised and restrained, rising in pitch and frequency to match the insular feel of the song. But Wylde tires of convention pretty quickly as a more forceful solo rings through the darkness, upping the tempo of The Hand Of Tomorrows Grave briefly before it fades into itself and is gone.
Better Days and Wiser Times has an acoustic feel from the outset, which is accentuated by softer sighs as the intro turns into the first verse. Wylde pulls back here vocally, crooning his words in time with the gentle shuffling of drums that dictates the overall flow.
BLS have always managed to nail each album ballad, somehow managing to bridge the gap between hard rock aggression and sonic beauty with enough penache to placate even the hardest of egos. Even the more passionate guitar solos manage to stand out in these times of contentment, almost wailing rather than dominating over the musical landscape, drawing you deeper into the sonic majesty that BLS continually create.
Broken and Blind starts with the delicate sounds of a shaker, which lasts only briefly, before the familiar “oh yeah” that Wylde has used countless times over the years leads us into the welcome world created by BLS and their music. This is another track that follows a more regulated musical pattern, but, as usual, still sounds fresh and exciting.
The Gallows is more aggressive in nature, a swirling guitar run soon giving way to Wylde‘s strained vocals that stand alone momentarily before the rest of the band join the fight. This is the heaviest song so far on the album, and by heavy I mean more in terms of musical density than out and out heaviness.
BLS have always commanded a healthy respect for the hard rock/metal lifestyle, traversing the divide between genres regularly and systematically while still managing to create their own pocket of the musical realm. A wicked guitar solo pierces the air, raising the bar so to speak without increasing the ferocity. There’s enough of that already in The Gallows. My pick of the album so far.
Above & Below continues the sludge infused metal groove that is the hallmark of BLS’s sound, but offers an unexpected, but welcome, shift as the tempo drops markedly and Wylde adjusts his tone to match. As pleasing as this is to hear, BLS don’t overplay their hand, switching between the expected and the unexpected several times throughout the song which is held together by a soaring guitar solo that sits somewhere between the contrasting sounds that form Above & Below.
Back To Me is another lighter acoustic number, drifting into calculations courtesy of a mournful guitar run that in turn gives way to a more emotional Zakk Wylde. This track almost has a country feel without crossing that border significantly, instead easing into a balanced slab of music that is beautifully structured courtesy of a subtle blending of restrained longing and mournful sorrow that not once becomes bogged down in over sentiment.
Lord Humungus breathes fire with a tough as nails guitar riff that is quickly joined by a driving drum pattern. Wylde regains his feet on this one, returning to the more forceful nature of music that, in my opinion anyway, is where BLS are at their devestating best. Even the guitar solo seems to be angrier and more venemous, continuing for an extended tenure that is both welcome and reassuring.
Pedal To The Floor has a more rock feel as it kicks off with a tempered guitar riff that is soon joined by the second guitar which provides the opposing push to the usual pull. They both settle into a well paced groove that allows Wylde to lay his rock drenched goodness to the song and off we go.
It’s hard to explain, but – as expected – there’s no one moment of passage of musicianship that stands out above others on Engines Of Demolition. Instead BLS again rely on familiarity as the backbone of their material without falling into the trap of repeating past glories. Which I, for one, am more than happy about.
Broken Pieces begins with a direct guitar assault, easing off casually into a more restrained gallop instead of allowing the pace to tire itself out. This track is yet another platform for BLS to show glimpses of vulnerability glossed over by a self assurance that what they do musically offers an escape from reality for their many fans.
The Stranger opens with a mini guitar solo that punches through into a swirling mass of sonic destruction. Faster paced than most of the tracks on the album, it also highlights the subtle nuances at BLS‘s disposal. Although essentially stradling the harder edge of rock, BLS also possess the ability to shift gears in both directions without coming across as forced or contrived.
But this track is by far the standout for me, a mixture of aggression and dominant guitar solos combining to provide a welcome three minutes of pure adrenalin that only calms down as the final song on Engines Of Demolition eases into the fray.
Simply titled Ozzy’s Song there is no doubting who this track was written for and the beautiful and emotive way it is delivered highlights the musical strength and personal relationship between Zakk and Ozzy. It is a beautiful and poignant piece of music that oozes grief but also respect at the legacy left by Ozzy Osbourne.
Normally I am opposed to finishing an album on a slower note, but this time I have to appreciate the sentiment of Ozzy’s Song and even find myself being swept up by the many emotions the track provides. It is a beautifully fitting finale to Engines Of Demolition and serves as yet another reminder of the gaping chasm left by Ozzy‘s passing.
But he shall live forever through songs such as this.
