Published on Sep 17, 2004
After a stable period in Iron Maiden’s lineup, the boat was
shaken yet again when guitarist Adrian Smith departed after eight
years. Having recently launched his own solo career in parallel to
Iron Maiden, singer Bruce Dickinson discovered guitarist Janick
Gers for his own group – and quickly, Gers became the new hired axe
in Iron Maiden.
Creatively, though, Maiden were on a bit of a tailspin. Their
previous disc,
Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son, polarized their fans,
especially through their continued use of synthesizers in their
music. Also, while the album was a commercial success, it was not
up to the kind of standards the band had set for themselves.
In this regard,
No Prayer For The Dying, the eighth studio release from Iron
Maiden, should be taken with a grain or two of salt. After all,
this was a band in regrouping mode, trying to see how their newly
revamped lineup worked together in the studio with a new batch of
songs. And, looking at the disc from a distance, it was an
improvement over
Seventh Son.
Yet after repeated listenings to this disc, one tends to walk
away from it feeling rather unsatisfied. On previous discs, Iron
Maiden gave the listener an audio and mental workout, challenging
the listener on many levels. With this disc, though, the
songwriting is a bit more lightweight, and the lyrics don’t exactly
give the listener reason to think.
Things start out on a slightly positive note with “Tail Gunner,”
a track which seems to revisit the aerial battlefields first seen
on “Aces High,” but without the lead guitar bite which Iron Maiden
had become known for. It’s hard to tell whether Gers’s addition is
at fault or whether Dave Murray had an off day in the solos
department – even after all these years, it’s almost impossible for
me to tell who is playing which solo just on hearing them. Still,
it was a partial return to form for the band.
Then, there are the two singles from this one. First is “Holy
Smoke,” a track which dares to take on televangelism from a
skeptic’s point of view. Good idea, poorly written song, weak
lyrics. I’m all for slamming Jimmy Swaggart and the whole bunch of
fakers who are fleecing people in the name of God (and, brother,
wait ’till
these bastards get His final room service bill), but I
expect a little more… well, more fire and brinstone against
them. This is almost the audio equivalent of a ruler across the
knuckles.
Then, there is “Bring Your Daughter… To The Slaughter,”
easily the worst song Iron Maiden has ever recorded. Why they even
took this one on is beyond me, and to this day remains a song I
cringe at. What a load of shit.
Speaking of shit, we come to the unfortunately titled “Public
Enema Number One,” a great song with a disastrous name. Honestly,
anyone going into this track is going to expect something along the
lines of “Bring Your Daughter…” or any number of the joke
B-sides the band recorded instead of a solid, all-out rocker of a
number.
In fact,
No Prayer For The Dying does indeed have its share of songs
like this – “Fates Warning,” “The Assassin,” and the title track –
but they, too, seem to lack some of the bite which set earlier Iron
Maiden albums apart from the pack. The end result isn’t disastrous,
but it is a tad disappointing.
The other notable thing about this album is Dickinson’s vocals –
which sound more ragged than they had to this point. Granted, you
can’t keep screaming your lungs out day in and day out for eight
years without doing some damage, but even so, hearing this was a
tad shocking. The perils of growing older, I guess.
No Prayer For The Dying does portray a band in flux, but
showing signs of recovery even with weak moments littering their
path. It isn’t the greatest Iron Maiden album ever recorded, but
it’s also hardly their worst. Just don’t expect to come away from
this one feeling fully satisfied.