Published on Jun 10, 2000
Back when I was in high school, I had a friend named Dave Amato.
Dave and I were not the kinds of kids one would have thought of as
headbangers, but Dave was very much into the scene, trading
bootlegs and videos long before I ever thought such a thing was
possible.
Dave also spent countless hours trying to get me interested in
the two artists he absolutely worshipped — Mercyful Fate and King
Diamond. I guess this, to Dave, was just what he needed to unwind
to after a day in Catholic high school. But I never was interested
in either band — and it wasn’t because they spouted Satanic or
occult references faster than I can spew foul language. They just
never interested me.
I don’t know what ever became of Dave; we lost touch when I was
in college after he ended up burning me on some videos he promised
to copy for me. But he might be interested to hear that I finally
did invest in a few Mercyful Fate tapes (thanks to Chris Carbone
and his eBay auction). And after plowing through the band’s 1983
debut
Melissa… well, I still don’t understand what the big deal
was.
(I should note, for the record, that my copy of this release is
actually the original 1983 version on Megaforce; the disc has since
been remastered on Roadrunner, and is the one still available
commercially.)
Mercyful Fate became known for three unique aspects. The first
was vocalist Diamond, whose range could go from a sinister growl to
a balls-in-a-hydraulic-press scream. Whether you love him or hate
him, Diamond undeniably has one of the most recognizable voices in
any genre of music. The second is the strong imagery in the lyrics,
making sure that
Melissa – or any of their albums, for that matter – aren’t
things you’d play for the Reverend when he comes by for a visit.
Some of the lyrics make artists like Slayer and Danzig appear to be
contemporary Christian material in comparison. The third is the
two-guitar attack of Hank Shermann and Michael Denner.
All of this said,
Melissa falls short in two areas. First, it occasionally is
damned near impossible to decipher what Diamond is singing unless
you have the lyric sheet. This is due to the echo put on his
vocals, as well as partially obscuring him in the overall mix.
Second, the songwriting occasionally gets too involved with the
instrumentation – possibly tied to the difficulty of hearing
Diamond. (Then again, after reading some of the lyrics, maybe it
was just as well that I didn’t understand. Cripes, Steven King has
nothing on these guys.)
Yet there are some absolutely fabulous moments on
Melissa. The title cut is the highlight, daring to present
Mercyful Fate in a gentler sound, building up the momentum without
allowing it to rage out of control. Likewise, “Black Funeral” is a
shot of adrenalin straight into your heart. Timi Hansen’s bass work
on this track is absolutely incredible.
But the bulk of
Melissa takes itself a little too seriously in both musical
and lyrical content. Tracks like “At The Sound Of The Demon Bell,”
“Curse Of The Pharoahs” and the 11-minute epic “Satan’s Fall”
(WARNING – I’m giving away the ending: God doesn’t win in this
story) all come off a bit pompous – or at least as pompous as a
song can be.
Yet there is something about
Melissa that begs the listener for repeat listenings… and
it’s not a call to join the occult. I haven’t been able to put my
finger on it just yet, but I tend to think it’s an attempt to find
something more in the music’s big picture.
Melissa put Mercyful Fate on the map, and it has enough
intriguing material where those who are curious about the band can
make initial discoveries. But unless you’re someone like my former
buddy Dave, this is an album that’s good mainly for cleaning out
the musical pipes when you need a change of pace, and is not quite
worthy of worship status.