Published on Dec 18, 1997
Back in the mid-’80s, W.A.S.P. were considered the Anti-Christ
of the music world. After naming a song “Animal (Fuck Like A
Beast)” and getting certain Washington wives’ undies in a knot,
Blackie Lawless and crew became more well-known for their bad-boy
image rather than their catchy, rather intelligent form of heavy
metal – in fact, they were about as threatening as a
mini-firecracker.
But changing musical tastes, lineup changes and reported
substance abuse problems took their toll on W.A.S.P., and by 1993,
it seemed like Lawless and crew were ready to pack it in and call
it a (successful) career.
But W.A.S.P.
didn’t go away as many probably hoped they would; instead,
Lawless and crew started to merge industrial with their music – and
much to my surprise, Lawless started writing songs that fit the
image groups like the PMRC painted them as.
Their latest release,
K.F.D., is evidence of the darker side to W.A.S.P.’s music –
and after over a dozen listens to this disc over the last two
weeks, I still can’t say for sure if I like this new direction.
Time has not hurt Lawless’s voice; if anything, his vocals are
stronger than ever. He can go from a hellish growl to a pleading
whisper without missing a beat. Guitarist Chris Holmes, the only
other remaining original member, has further refined his chops –
never mind he was a more-than-competent lead guitarist in the
band’s glory days. Bassist Mike Duda often sounds hidden in the
mix; the times his work comes to the forefront are quite enjoyable.
Drummer Stet Howland often sounds like he’s playing a drum machine
– I prefer the acoustic drums much more, always have.
The title track, an abbreviation for “kill, fuck, die,” is the
first real taste of W.A.S.P. 1997 – and it is one that takes some
time to get used to. The problem I have with the track is the
overamplification of the percussion – too much drums, not enough
guitar and bass. The song just doesn’t have the kick that other
songs in the W.A.S.P. catalog do, and is a letdown. There are even
times where it seems like Howland loses the rhythm on the hi-hat
cymbals.
This isn’t to say that Lawless has forgotten how to write a
killer track. “My Tortured Eyes,” complete with the pleads of “kill
me,” has some very beautiful moments. “Killahead” is a powerful
rocker that sets a head-banging tempo that refuses to let up; it
also somewhat turns back to the classic W.A.S.P. sound, though
there’s still lots of industrial on it as well. “Kill Your Pretty
Face” starts off well, but trails off a bit near the end
power-wise.
It’s not the shift to industrial that bothers me the most about
K.F.D., it’s the much darker tone of the lyrics. People
gasped in horror when Lawless used the word “fuck” twice on the
non-album track “Animal,” and there wasn’t
that bad of content on their second effort
The Last Command to warrant a warning on the album jacket.
But here, very few of the songs don’t talk about killing in some
way, shape or form, and “fuck” is much more commonplace. As much as
I am no prude when it comes to the use of vulgarities, I find their
increased use and constant images of murder disturbing.
And I’m not entirely convinced that this is the way that Lawless
wanted himself and W.A.S.P. to be remembered. No doubt that he is
carving a new trail for W.A.S.P. – and often backs it up with some
solid songwriting and playing. But I fail to see what was wrong
with the old W.A.S.P. that required such a shift in personal views
and anger. (Not that Lawless doesn’t have the right to express
anger, after the band’s fall from grace during the decline in
metal’s popularity and the fact the band never achieved the success
of others like Whitesnake or AC/DC.)
No matter how many times I listen to
K.F.D., I can hear promise in the album’s weaker moments,
and I can glorify in the strong performances. If I had any advice
for Lawless, it would be simply to cut back a bit on the distortion
and the industrial groove, and just do what the band used to –
perform balls-out rock for the sheer fun of it.
K.F.D. sounds more like a release of personal demons for
Lawless (“Can’t describe how I hate your fucking face” from “U”
says volumes) – and in doing so, the music loses its
fun-to-listen-to edge.
K.F.D. might not be the best stocking-stuffer for the tykes,
and it may be an eye-opening listen for the long-time W.A.S.P.
fans, but it is, indeed, progress. Lawless and crew have been
forging ahead – never mind the critics, thank you very much – for
over ten years, and seem perfectly content to continue bucking the
trends and tastes of the masses.
K.F.D. is a good album, though I do hope the band does
revert a tiny bitto make listening to them more like watching
Porky’s than
The Amityville Horror.