Full throttle '80s metal in its many guises on dynamic display. Was this how it was when the NWOBHM crawled out of the Ruskin Arms primordial beer soup? Or the Bay area hordes lost gills developed limbs and thrashed out of Ruthies? Not quite. But then again the past is always a foreign country.
First out in retro-vision was the Dutch denim hard rock assault of Vanderbuyst. A powerhouse three-piece with shards of melodic swing taken from the DNA of Lizzy, UFO and fellow countrymen Golden Earring. ‘From Pilllar To Post’ rollicks along, whilst ‘Stealing Your Thunder’ has a hard grimy NWOBHM edge that gives way to a assonant ascent. A wonder bust version of ‘Don’t Believe A Word’ serves as a perfect set ending salutation.
Toronto’s Skull Fist could be the second set of subatomic particles to question Einstein’s theory of relativity. Their brand of speed metal could indeed be faster than the speed of light. To quote singer Jackie Slaughter, ‘Fuck yeah dudes!’ They came to shred and shred they do. Canuck legends Exciter come to mind as they blast through ‘Get Fisted’ (dedicated to all the ladies). ‘Nö False Metal’ is out prove a point with its sinew stretching note-a-thon and ‘Ride The Beast’ has you hanging on for dear life.
Headliners Steeelwing have the swagger and self belief that only comes from wearing lyrca. Their set is a lesson in how to put on and pull off a stadium rock show in a small upstairs pub. Spitting out riffs like a jammed wood chipper they combine speed and melody effortlessly in a Maiden-Priest melange. Orchestrated stage moves, headbanging breakdowns and a lead singer with a falsetto scream that would make a castrato wince, this is 100% proof metal. But there is also variety amidst the sonic charge of thunder tunes such as ‘Full Speed Ahead!’. ‘Breathless’ is a less metallic more radio friendly rocker. ‘Sentinel Hill’ has a proggy vibe ala Argent or Iron Butterfly and ‘Roadkill (…Or Be Killed) is a festival-sing-along-fist pumper in the offing.
This is a reminder of the energy unbounded and unbridled joy of early days discovering music without cynicicism. Familiarity breeds content. Time to dust off that old patch jacket methinks!