Written By Kevin McSweeney
Nottingham has always been on the map for UK metalheads, not least because of its iconic Rock City venue. However, there has been a notable increase in metal-related musical output from the East Midlands city in recent times.
Melodic metallers Phoenix Lake released their divine debut album Seraphina: The Fall From Eden on February 27th of this year, and received a positive review here at Metal Lair for their trouble.
Whereas in November of last year, 80s-style hair metal heroes Midnite City were lauded in our Seven Deadly Songs feature as they released their latest album, Bite The Bullet.
Now, another retro rock force has arisen in the city, as Death Warmed Up deliver their debut album Wildcard, (due to be released independently on April 17th,) with a sound that, if I can plagiarise my own aforementioned article, is more Sunset Strip than Sherwood Forest.
They claim on their Facebook page to be: ”the loudest band from Nottingham.” The other two bands I mentioned might dispute that assertion.
Blackened death metal band Luciferan Wisdom will certainly have cause to challenge it. But you don’t turn to a band like Death Warmed Up for heaviness, but for histrionics, for hedonism, and, most of all, for hair.
That’s as in hair metal like the legends used to make it. As a young man, when grunge was in the ascendancy and sweeping away all that came before, I might have dismissed this as vapid nonsense that lacked the emotional depth and intellectual weight of the music being made by Soundgarden and Alice in Chains.
Now, as an old man. I’m thinking: fuck it! Let’s have some fun. It is truly ironic that I am fully embracing hair metal, just as I am losing my own hair.
Opening track Gods of Rock n Roll pays earnest tribute to those very legends, those hard-rocking heavenly figures to whose throne these young midlanders mean to ascend.
Some might think it strange that they chose to commence their debut album with a cry of “Holy fucking shit! We’re Back!” It makes perfect sense to me, though, for these young men are carrying the torch and representing a long and proud musical heritage.
This is upbeat, high octane hard rock. Mötley Crüe’s Kickstart My Heart would give you a good point of comparison. One thing that is immediately apparent is that William Evans, who might not have the most rock n roll of names, nonetheless has an almighty set of pipes. He hits some high notes on this recording that have me fearing for my own testicles, never mind his.
This opening track was selected as the album’s first single, and for obvious reasons. It’s highly energetic and a bold statement of who they are and what they wish to achieve.
Their intentions are stated unambiguously in the couplet: “Rock has stood the test of time./We’ve only gone and taken it over the line.” You might have cause to wonder what kind of line they’re talking about, given the decadent nature of the notorious party animals they seek to emulate, musically at least.
So, the first song on the album was the first single from the album and Track No. 2, Inside My Mind, is the second single. This is the kind of well-ordered consistency that is entirely at odds with the reckless abandon of rock ‘n’ roll, quite frankly.
The song’s opening riffs reminded me a little of Winger’s Seventeen. The similarities end there, thank God. A more apposite comparison would be with the cover of Steppenwolf’s Magic Carpet Ride by Michael Monroe and Slash.
It’s slower and funkier than the previous track, with a super-catchy chorus. We were promised “guitar solos straight out of 1989” on their social media, and Charlie Willis delivers on that promise with fancy fingerwork in abundance.
There is a reference to Ratt’s Round and Round in the lyrics – a song that is truly an example of 1980s hair metal at its best. They have chosen their influences well, and it shows.
Mortal Remains is a title more becoming of the sort of extreme metal that we usually cover at Metal Lair.
It’s giving thrash, as the youngsters might put it, presumably before doing the six/seven hand gesture and cancelling someone on TikTok.
Certainly, it’s a little darker in tone than the two singles, with the riffs moving more into NWOBHM territory, and Evans’ vocal delivery sounding somewhat like that of Bruce Dickinson.
I loved the alternation between straight 4/4 time and 6/8 jig time, evoking memories of Irish rock legends like Horslips and Thin Lizzy. Willis gets to shred again, but I fully appreciate the wizardry of Lewis Potter as he adds muscularity as a counterpoint to Willis’ soaring majesty.
Cold Act establishes itself with a killer, if somewhat chromatic, riff that is straight off the soundtrack of a 1980s movie.
I could well imagine Chuck Norris – may he rest in peace – kicking ass to it, or a smouldering Lita Ford lookalike dancing to it in a bar before going off somewhere quiet with a handsome young dude, only to be butchered by Jason Voorhees. Now that’s what I call a killer riff!
There’s a strong element of Van Halen to Evans’ vocal performance on this track. He manages to combine the power and proficiency of Sammy Hagar with the swagger and charm of Dave Lee Roth, which is no mean feat.
I won’t pretend I wasn’t caught out by the false finish, after which we get some tremendous tribal tom work from Alex Keeling during a crescendo that builds to another fine solo from Willis.
Lurking underneath this solo is some equally fancy fret fiddling from the splendidly-named Romarno O’Reilly. He flies his finery under the radar, to his immense credit.
A gentle bit of clean guitar eases us into Rising Star, and it’s a riff that wouldn’t be out of place in the Manic Street Preachers back catalogue.
This then opens up audaciously in a manner similar to The Who‘s Won’t Get Fooled Again. The lyrical content takes the form of a cautionary tale of wasted youth and potential, similar to that of Skid Row‘s 18 and Life.
The song moves from section to section quite jarringly. It’s certainly not a smooth operation, despite Sade’s recent inclusion in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
That’s part of the charm of it, though. It’s organic music, and not something so polished, it might as well have been generated by AI. The solo has something of Slash about it stylistically – get me talking as if I know the first thing about technical guitar playing!
We are sent via a spin of the wheel back into NWOBHM territory by Roulette, a song very much in the tradition of something like Judas Priest’s Electric Eye, though the vocal delivery is perhaps more akin to that of Ozzy Osbourne on Black Sabbath’s Symptom of The Universe.
Of course, it’s much less of a hop from East to West Midlands than it is to West Hollywood, but they are equally adept at operating in accordance with the metal traditions of both locations.
I think the roulette in question is of the Russian variety, rather than the kind you might encounter in Las Vegas, judging by the line: “This is your final shot” in the chorus, though I am once again without a lyric sheet and unable to elaborate further.
We continue in a harder-edged, Anglocentric vein with Chains of Hate, though there is no small amount of groove in the verses.
The chorus is anthemic, with its refrain of “I’ll never break these chains of hate.” I certainly hope that’s not true. It’s a very good idea to break those particular chains if you can.
We get the rare treat of Romarno O’Reilly’s bass coming to the fore, as the rhythm section gets to shine for a moment without vocals or guitar in the way.
The fuzzy bass tone and the solid groove laid down by Alex Keeling, with all its ghost notes and open hi-hats, bring an element of stoner rock to proceedings.
I could almost be listening to Kyuss. The full band returns for the final rendering of the chorus, and it gets better every time I hear it. Work on breaking those chains, though, yeah?
Penultimate song Great Day for Dying promises darkness with its title, and a slower, stompier approach, coupled with a sprechgesang vocal performance in the verses, would indeed be conducive to a darkening of proceedings.
I’m sure I can make out references to aviation in the lyrics. Could this song be about the rock and roll legends who left us in plane crashes?
I’m thinking of Lynyrd Skynyrd here, and possibly also the likes of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, Stevie Ray Vaughan and the Big Bopper.
From the solo onwards, the song builds rapidly in pace, getting faster and faster, until we’re very much in the realms of speed metal. This is an interesting device, deployed presumably to replicate the loss of control of an aircraft or other vehicle.
While it wouldn’t have had such fatal consequences in the studio, I’m surprised none of them lost a few fingers in the process, such is the pace and intricacy of the music.
So that brings us to the final song. There’s a proud tradition of great British bands having self-titled songs on their debut albums.
Motörhead did it; so too did Iron Maiden. Whereas Black Sabbath provided the big bang for the music we love by opening the album Black Sabbath with the song Black Sabbath.
It’s gratifying to see that Death Warmed Up have followed suit with the closing track on their first album.
Its opening riff is clean and restrained in comparison to what has come before it, and despite the Enter Sandman-style pounding toms in the intro, it remains melodic when it opens up fully.
There’s a bluesiness to it that reminds me of vintage British rock bands such as Thunder or The (London) Quireboys.
There’s a defiant spirit to the song that is characterised by the repeated line: “Can’t keep rising to the top.”
I know there’s been a bit of an uptick in interest in hair metal in recent times, but I don’t suppose it’ll ever again define the musical zeitgeist as it did when I was a kid. Death Warmed Up do not seem to care, however. They are true to themselves artistically, and that is commendable.
I really don’t think I emphasised this enough during the review, but it’s the rawness of the record that makes it enthralling, not just in terms of their untrammelled energy and enthusiasm, but the organic imperfections that give it authenticity.
This was clearly not recorded to a click track, and I’m glad. That’s not how they did things in the ‘80s, Goddammit!
I know I made jokes earlier about hair metal, and indeed hair loss, but I love this album, unashamedly and unironically, and I can’t wait to see them live.
If they could head to the South West at some point, I’d be very grateful, and if they could perhaps bring Midnite City or Phoenix Lake with them, so much the better. Luciferan Wisdom would probably be too much to ask.
Metal Lair awards Wildcard by Death Warmed Up four and a half Devil Horns.
Album track listing:
1. Gods Of Rock n Roll
2. Inside My Mind
3. Mortal Remains
4. Cold Act
5. Rising Star
6. Roulette
7. Chains Of Hate
8. Great Day For Dying
9. Death Warmed Up
DEATH WARMED UP are:
Alex Keeling – Drums
Romarno O’Reily – Bass
Lewis Potter – Rhythm Guitarist
Charlie Willis – Lead Guitarist
William Evans – Vocals
DEATH WARMED UP ONLINE:
About The Author
Kevin McSweeney is Metal Lair’s resident scribe of the underground, eternally rummaging through the global metal scene for riffs worth your time.
As the guiding hand behind Seven Deadly Songs every Friday, he has an uncanny knack for finding the track you didn’t know you needed, usually before finishing his pint.
Equal parts loyal, kind, and quietly razor-witted, Kevin brings deep knowledge, impeccable taste, and a steady, reliable presence to Metal Lair.
Read More From This Author:
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