Published on Apr 7, 2001
Listening to the reissue of
Fear No Evil, the 1985 sophomore release from British
metallers Grim Reaper, I have to wonder what the modern-day
generation thinks of this retro-metal. No doubt they’d scoff a bit
at the semi-demonic imagery that guitatist Nick Bowcott and crew
conjured up, especially since some of today’s metal makes this
stuff look like a horror film you used to see on
Mystery Science Theater 3000.
But once upon a time, this stuff was cutting-edge, winning the
band a dedicated legion of fans thanks to select stations playing
tracks like “Final Scream,” “Rock & Roll Tonight” and “Fear No
Evil”. Yet even back then, when I was just 15 or 16 listening to my
cassette of this release, I thought that something was missing from
the mix.
Something indeed is missing – in fact, many things are lacking
on
Fear No Evil. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.
In all fairness, this album was a step up from
See You In Hell, even though the basic formula hadn’t
changed much. You still had the banshee-like wailing of Steve
Grimmett and the fretboard-on-fire leads of Bowcott. But the
muddied drum sounds that were on the first album hadn’t improved on
Fear No Evil, though I’m hesitant to blame new drummer Mark
Simon for this. No, the blame here lies with producer Darryl
Johnston, who could have made the whole mix a lot crisper.
There are also some decent songs on
Fear No Evil, though such an admission would be quickly
footnoted as being a guilty pleasure. Well, I won’t do that. I grew
up listening to “Final Scream” (though the opening sequence with
what sounds like Pee-Wee Herman’s son is a bit banal) and “Fear No
Evil,” and these songs still have some magic in them that puts a
smile on my face. Were there other groups doing this same thing at
the time, only better? Yes… but I can’t help liking these two
tracks.
Sadly, these are the highlights on
Fear No Evil. The remainder of the album slips into the
exact same problems that plagued
See You In Hell.The songwriting still is formulatic and
without the hook needed to lure the listener in (“Never Coming
Back,” “Let The Thunder Roar,” “Fight For The Last”), the mix (as
noted before) isn’t the best – and, let’s be honest, Grimmett is
not the best vocalist in the genre. Passable, yes; stellar, no.
What’s worse, time has not been kind to either Grim Reaper or
Fear No Evil. These days, the album sounds incredibly dated,
even with the bright spots. This is the kind of disc that’s
listened to as a reminder of youthful days gone by, not as a
refresher course in the New Wave of British Heavy Metal (of which
Grim Reaper was on the tail end).
Granted,
Fear No Evil is not the worst way to pass an hour, and I
still occasionally dust the cobwebs off this one just to clear the
musical pipes in my head. But while this disc marked a slight
improvement for Grim Reaper, it also suggested these guys were not
destined for the big-time.