Though there were some fantastic releases by a few classic bands in 2024, I didn’t feel that it was, overall, nearly as strong as some other years in recent memory for hard rock and heavy metal. The year also brought a few notably disappointing highly-anticipated albums from bands who have been very dependable in recent years, like Zeal & Ardor or Ad Infinitum.
While a few surprises are scattered among my 15 favorite releases of the year, I’m struck by the lack of newer and younger bands in my picks. A few debut albums show up on the list, but most are at least partially made up of veterans that I’ve been listening to for years. I’m willing to admit that maybe with everything going on in my life that 2024 was perhaps a year of musical comfort food for me.
Here are my thoughts on the year in hard rock and metal:
METAL MOMENT OF THE YEAR: Metal got perhaps its biggest global stage ever in 2024, being featured in the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics. And we’re not talking a glorified pop act with a few heavy guitar riffs. No, it was progressive death metal band Gojira offering up an epic performance of “Mea Culpa (Ah Ca Ira),” a take on the song “Ca Ira” from the French Revolution. Complete with shooting towers of flame and a finale with streamers that resembled spraying blood, it was not what most of us expected to see at the Olympics, but it was awesome. I’ll admit that I mostly ignored everything else about the ceremony and the games, wasn’t even watching live when it happened, but I jumped online just as soon as I heard to find the clip. It was a bit of vindication for an old metalhead who has, for the most part, seen the heavier end pushed into the dark corners.
A proclamation made in a black-and-white video full of fire and smoke, by a singer wearing a flaming crown and decked out in corpse paint – possibly its first use in rock. In 2018, after the music world has seen the likes of Alice Cooper, W.A.S.P., Marilyn Manson and even more bizarre acts, it may not seem that wild or shocking. But imagine being a kid in 1968 and stumbling across the Crazy World of Arthur Brown’s “Fire” for the first time. It had to be just about the coolest thing you’d ever seen – and for parents, probably one of the scariest.
This song pops up on my shuffle on rare occasion, and it always reminds me of just how big an impact this relatively obscure artist had on my favorite music. Though “Fire” was a No. 1 hit in the U.K. and reached No. 2 on Billboard in the U.S., Arthur Brown is far from a household name. His work, however, spawned whole genres of rock and metal.
Metal, old school country, a classic rock flavored Bruce Dickinson tune and a little new-school country to round things out ...
“Wherever I May Roam,” Metallica. From the album Metallica (1991). From a sitar opening lick to a huge, epic tune. I talked a bit back about how I’ve come to have more appreciation for this record, but this is one of the songs that I always loved.
After a few weeks of wildly varied shuffles, we're back to something a little more metal, minus one country tune, of course ...
Bruce Dickinson, "Kill Devil Hill." From the album A Tyranny of Souls (2005). Man, we're long overdue for a new Bruce Dickinson solo album. His solo work, at least for me, has been far better than Iron Maiden's records in recent years. My shuffle seems to love this song, which naturally, deals with the Wright Brothers' first flight. It's one of those great, dramatic Dickinson tunes.
“Push, Push,” Cinderella.
From the album Night Songs (1986). Not one of the band’s most creative tunes.
It’s the quintessential 1980s hard rock sex song. No double entendre, nothing
really clever, just straight sleaze. Still, it’s not a bad tune.
Zakk Wylde finally put it all together with Black Label Society in 2005 for Mafia. Sure, the band had never released a bad record to that point, but the songs, the mix, everything was just right for Mafia.
Led by the charging rock of the opening single “Suicide Messiah” and the catchy hook of the main riff of “Fire It Up,” the record was a stark contrast to the mostly acoustic Hangover Music, released just a year before. There were mellower moments, as well, though, most notably the ballad “In This River,” which Wylde dedicated to Pantera guitarist “Dimebag” Darrell Abbott.
Mafia made a promise that 2006’s lackluster Shot to Hell couldn’t keep, and it wasn’t until 2010’s outstanding Order of the Black that the band got back on track.
In the second year of the series, I have another three-way dilemma. Iced Earth’s iconic Something Wicked This Way Comes, my favorite Blind Guardian record, Nightfall in Middle-Earth, and the very solid Wake of Magellan by one of my favorite bands, Savatage, were all released in 1998. Because it’s their strongest work, I chose Something Wicked.
Though he was the third singer in Iced Earth, Matt Barlow had already made his mark with two new studio records – Burnt Offerings and the Dark Saga – and a collection of re-recorded songs from the band’s earlier records – Days of Purgatory. But it was on Something Wicked that it appeared the ever-revolving lineup of Iced Earth might be close to becoming a unified band. That’s not to say the earlier albums were sloppy, but this seemed to be a tighter, more well-rounded record.
It’s the first year in the series, and already there’s a three-way battle for my favorite record between Bruce Dickinson’s comeback album Accident of Birth, Aerosmith’s underrated Nine Lives and Judas Priest’s debut with Tim “Ripper” Owens, Jugulator. In the end, though, Dickinson’s reunion with Adrian Smith and return to a more familiar brand of metal won out.
I quite enjoyed Dickinson’s solo debut, Tattooed Millionaire, even though it was more of a brand of 1970s hard rock than what I was familiar with from his days in Iron Maiden. His second outing, Balls To Picasso, left me a little cold. I loved “Tears of the Dragon” and a few other songs, but didn’t care for most of the record. By the time the strange Skunkworks arrived, I had pretty much written him off.
When Bruce Dickinson’s first solo album, Tattooed Millionaire, arrived in 1990, it left me — and I’m sure many other Iron Maiden fans — just a little confused. My initial reaction to this mixture of 1970s-inspired hard rock and 1980s excess was deep disappointment.
It was such a far cry from what I was used to from Dickinson, and I thought the simplistic song structures didn’t really allow him to use that amazing voice to its fullest. Luckily for me, during those years, a $10 cassette was a serious investment, so I rarely gave up on one without a fight. As I gave it more chances, many of the songs began to grow on me, and two decades later, I’m actually quite fond of the album.
I’m wondering if Iron Maiden mastermind Steve Harris is, for some reason, trying to alienate fans. First, the band goes on tour last year playing primarily songs from its last four records and largely ignoring the classic albums that made them one of the top heavy metal bands in the world. Then came the lazy and uninspired The Final Frontier. (Yes, I know not everyone agrees with me, but it was really flat.) Now, we’re presented with yet another compilation album to try to suck money out of fans’ wallets.
At first glance, 23 shows in 21 cities over the course of 45 days doesn't seem so unusual for a touring band. Some who play a show in a different city every night might call it a light schedule. That is, until you consider the fact that those 21 cities are on five different continents and often thousands of miles apart.
For their 2008 "Somewhere Back in Time" tour, the subject of the new documentary "Flight 666," Iron Maiden took to the skies in a Boeing 757, dubbed Ed Force One after the band's mascot Eddie. The plane was piloted by vocalist Bruce Dickinson, a licensed airline pilot, and hauled the complete tour staff and equipment in jumps that took them to all corners of the world over the course of a little more than six weeks.
After opening with the packing of the plane and first take-off, "Flight 666," is an engaging film on several levels. Directed by Sam Dunn, who also did the acclaimed "Metal: A Headbanger's Journey," the documentary offers a rare glimpse of the inner workings of Iron Maiden. The band has rarely opened up about what goes on behind the scenes. Far from the hard-partying craziness that bands often use as backstage material on DVDs, here we get to meet bassist and band leader Steve Harris' family, who he takes on tour with him. In their off time, they're playing golf, tennis and soccer at various locations around the globe. It's not exactly scandalous material, but it is interesting.
There are the expected interviews with the band and crew and some gorgeous aerial shots from around the world. There's also plenty of energetic live performance clips which are impressive. The power and energy of a live performance is often hard to translate to film, but they work wonderfully here. One of the most striking moments on the record is when the band launches into "Fear of the Dark" (the only non-'80s track) and a stadium full of people start singing the melody line together. It gives you, at least, a little taste of what it might have been like to be in the crowd. The set list (each song played in a different country) is also pleasantly surprising. The tour was focused on the band's material from the mid-1980s, and includes some gems like "Revelations," "Rime of the Ancient Mariner," "Moonchild" and "Clairvoyant," which the band doesn't often play anymore.
The real power of this documentary, though, is its look at the band's fans around the world. The viewer gets to meet Maiden fans of all walks of life, from celebrities like Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine and Lars Ulrich of Metallica backstage in California, to everyday fans in India, Costa Rica, Columbia and Chile, who are thrilled to get to see the band for the first time, to a minister near Sao Paulo, Brazil, whose body is covered with Iron Maiden-related tattoos. One of the most powerful images on the DVD is after a show in South America where the camera focuses on a fan holding a drumstick, brought to tears by the emotions of the show. Your first thought might be, "Dude, it's just a concert," but when you think about it, it kind of puts things in perspective a bit. Most of us take something like being able to see a rock concert for granted, but for this young man, it was perhaps one of the biggest events in his life.
It's also striking, considering that Maiden's heyday was in the 1980s, how young the audience was. There were a few older folks like me scattered around the crowd, but, as members of the band marvel at several times during the movie, the front rows look pretty much like they did in 1985.
While they've certainly earned enough respect in the metal world to sit on their laurels and phone things in like so many other bands, the performances captured on "Flight 666" are not those of a nostalgia act. They're living, vibrant performances, perhaps some of the best that Iron Maiden has put on stage in years. The second DVD in the set is dedicated entirely to the performances, showing each in its entirety. For Maiden fans, or those new to the band that want to get a good overview of music from the band's most powerful era, "Flight 666" is a must-have.
In honor of April Fool's Day, I thought I'd take a look at some of those goofy songs that bands often throw on a CD just for giggles. Maybe you love them, maybe you hate them or maybe they're a guilty pleasure that you really don't want people to know you like. Here's a look at a few of my favorites. This list is by no stretch of the imagination comprehensive. It's done completely off the top of my head, and I'm sure I've missed even a few that I enjoy. Please feel free to add your own.
AC/DC, "Big Balls" (Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, 1976). This one's become such a classic that it hardly belongs on this list. I've never known anyone who didn't laugh at this (barely) double entendre goof.
Aerosmith, "Big Ten-Inch Record" (Toys in the Attic, 1975). As with the first one on the list, this tune that draws its humor from the pregnant pause is a classic. But I still love it, and I've got to get Aerosmith on here.
Annihilator, "Kraf Dinners" (Never, Neverland, 1990). Sandwiched between heavy subject matter like environmental responsibility and dark tunes about insanity is this fun ode to mac and cheese. Somehow, it works.
Anthrax, "Startin' Up a Posse" (Attack of the Killer Bs, 1991). Anthrax has a few tunes that could fit on this list, but none quite as good as this ditty about Tipper Gore and the PMRC that manages to work in a thrash version of the "Bonanza" theme.
Body Count, "KKK Bitch" (Body Count, 1992). Body Count often used humor to make serious points, but this tune poking fun at racists is way over the top.
Bruce Dickinson, "Dive, Dive, Dive" (Tattooed Millionaire, 1990). I'd always thought of Bruce Dickinson as very proper and dignified until this song, filled with bad maritime sex puns, and it's companion piece "Zulu Lulu" arrived on his first solo record.
Guns 'n' Roses, "I Used to Love Her" (G'n'R Lies, 1990). You can't go wrong with Guns 'n' Roses' three-chord tongue-in-cheek ballad about a relationship gone wrong.
Infectious Grooves, "You Lie and Yo Breath Stank" (The Plague that Makes Your Booty Move, 1991). I'm not sure that Infectious Grooves belongs here because so many of their songs were tongue-in-cheek. Lyrically, this one is pretty bad, but for some reason I still love it.
Nuclear Assault, "Poetic Justice" (Something Wicked, 1993). While the killer title track was the centerpiece of this record, the band's take on a famous song from "The Sound of Music" has certainly given me my share of snickers over the years.
Pride & Glory, "I Hate Your Guts" (Pride & Glory, 1994). Basically Zakk Wylde's answer to GnR's "I Used to Love You," it covers similar ground with a southern twang.
Scatterbrain, "Don't Call Me Dude" (Here Comes Trouble, 1990). Like Infectious Grooves, I'm not sure if Scatterbrain belongs here because humor was their norm. But I can't resist this ode to a guy down on his luck with some serious thrash licks to back up the humor.
Suicidal Tendencies, "Institutionalized" (Suicidal Tendencies, 1983). "All I wanted was a Pepsi."
Tesla, "Tommy's Down Home" (Five Man Acoustical Jam, 1990). Having grown up around people like the one portrayed in the song, this tune always brings a smile to my face.
Van Halen, "Happy Trails" (Diver Down, 1982). Van Halen has a few tunes to choose from as well, including "Big Bad Bill" from this same record, but for some reason I've always had a special connection with their cover of "Happy Trails." ... bombadida, bombadida ...
Wrathchild America, "I Ain't Drunk" (3-D, 1991). I spent many nights tipping a glass to this cover of Albert Collins' classic drinking song.
Dweezil Zappa, "I Want a Yacht" (Havin' a Bad Day, 1986). While I love his cover of his dad's "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama," this tune featuring the screams of comedian Bobcat Godthwait is just too bizarre to not make the list.
There's no question that Iron Maiden's 1982 album "Number of the Beast" stands as one of the greatest heavy metal records of all time. It's a great record from start to finish and produced the band's signature tune, "Run to the Hills." But there are two much more powerful songs, both slower numbers, on the record that often get overshadowed by that song, "Children of the Damned" and my personal favorite, "Hallowed Be Thy Name."
In my opinion, this is a perfect metal song. It's got all the elements for greatness. It opens with this dark, moody lick with the doom bell tolling in the background. The combination of Dave Murray and Adrian Smith's guitars and Steve Harris' bass harmonics sounding a bit like bells themselves. Then come the powerhouse vocals of Bruce Dickinson, still one of the best in the business, but toned down, low and dark, as he takes on the role of a condemned man waiting for his trip to the gallows. You can almost visualize the sands running through the hourglass. Then Dickinson hits that long note on "running looooow," that everyone else runs out of breath trying to sing along with, leading into the heavier parts of the song.
Here, Murray and Smith take over the show with their trademark dual guitar harmonies belting out licks that you can't ignore and can't get out of your head. Harris, too, tones down his usual lightning bass rumble to a slower gallop that adds weight to the song. Dickinson's voice is meanwhile going through all the emotions you'd expect of someone awaiting death -- sorrow, then anger and finally a reluctant acceptance of his place. Finally, you get the aggressive ending of the tune where the tempo picks up, guitar solos blaze and Dickinson unleashes some air raid siren-worthy notes as, the listener assumes, the execution time has arrived. And don't forget those final drum strikes, like the kicking legs of the hanged man.
"Run to the Hills" and the title track may get more airplay, but "Hallowed Be Thy Name" is the true masterpiece of Iron Maiden's masterwork.
As the frontman for Iron Maiden, Bruce Dickinson has provided the vocals for dozens of bona fide metal classics. His forays into a solo career, however, have produced music both beautiful and horrible.
His first solo outing, 1990’s "Tattooed Millionaire," was a bit surprising as he tripped into classic rock mode. I actually quite liked the album – and still do – even though it was nothing like I expected. He followed those up with the too commercial "Balls to Picasso," which sounded like a hair band record, in 1994, and the too strange "Skunkworks" in 1996. He rebounded in 1997 when he was joined by another Iron Maiden alum, guitarist Adrian Smith, for "Accident of Birth." The album was more Maiden-like than the music Maiden was making at the time, and the album remains Dickinson’s strongest solo effort in my mind. He followed that up with the equally impressive "The Chemical Wedding" in 1998, again with Smith at his side.
A reunion with Iron Maiden produced two very good albums, 2000’s "Brave New World" and 2003’s "Dance of Death," but put his solo career on hold until now. This time out, he doesn’t have Smith as a collaborator. Instead, he turns to long-time producer Roy Z, who also played guitar and co-wrote those early albums. The difference is immediately noticeable. Roy Z’s guitar sound is somehow softer around the edges than Smith’s, even on a thrashing riff like the opening of “Soul Intruders” it doesn’t seem to attack the listener in the same way. It doesn’t make the album bad, just different.
“Abduction” opens the album with a sound that’s not too different from "Accident" or "Wedding." “Kill Devil Hill,” a song about the Wright Brothers, has a classic, epic Iron Maiden feel to it – think “Flight of Icarus.” It would have been right at home on their classic "Piece of Mind" album. Dickinson works out his well-documented David Bowie fetish on the mostly acoustic “Navigate the Seas of the Sun.” The song starts out OK, almost reminding me of “Taking the Queen” from "Accident," but it gets old pretty quickly.
If the first half of the album sounds a lot like Dickinson’s last two albums, the second half gives listeners a taste of the early albums. “River of No Return” has the kind of commercial hard rock bent of "Picasso," and “Believil” has the weirdness of "Skunkworks." It’s almost like getting an overview of his career in one album. But the star of the second half is “Devil on a Hog,” a straight ahead hard rocker, not unlike something from "Millionaire." It recalls the classic hard rock bands of the 1970s, and it has an infectious hook.
Perhaps the song on the album that’s most recognizable as Dickinson is the closing song and title track “A Tyranny of Souls.” It draws upon Shakespeare’s “Macbeth,” specifically the three witches, to tell a tale of the supernatural. It has that powerful, dramatic sound heard on so much of his last two albums.
Lyrically, Dickinson explores all the old familiar haunts. There are metaphysical themes, science fiction, history and flight – subjects that have been favorites of his throughout the years. He also shows his penchant for artistic depictions of good and evil by using a 15th century Hans Hemling depiction of hell that brings to mind "Chemical Wedding," which was largely based on the art and writings of William Blake.
"Tyranny of Souls" is yet another strong effort from Dickinson, who has excelled in recent years with or without his Maiden bandmates. With all that he’s got going on – from writing novels to getting a pilot’s license – it’s no wonder it took him seven years to give us a new solo album. It makes me wish he’d just concentrate on music and deliver a few more albums like his last three.
