The fear of imaginary gods: Iron Maiden's "Powerslave"
Keegan Keplinger
Sun Star
It's butt-rock, I know.
Maybe it's too graphic for some people, or just too silly for others; either way, I understand the immediate bias because Iron Maiden was an acquired taste for me too. It took about a week or two on the water, where you have to compromise for the airwaves with your crewmembers. Iron Maiden became completely reliable deck tunes, fueling the psychological engine with the determination necessary to overhaul miles of long-line gear. Once I got back to land, I couldn't help but expand my metal horizons.
Like Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden creates concept albums. Their bassist, Steve Harris is the creator and head writer for the band. He is the brain that directs the Kingdom of Eddie. Admittedly, Bruce Dickinson's vocals are the quickest thing to turn someone off to Iron Maiden (he used to be in opera) but he wasn't their original singer. They originally had one Paul Di'anno as their lead singer. Di'anno had a smoother voice and a ruder attitude; too rude: too many drugs, too rowdy, too much of a rocker for Iron Maiden. So we're stuck with the opera singer, but that's okay because Iron Maiden isn't about the singers.
Nicko McBrain (drums) Steve Harris (bass) and Adrian Smith (guitar) really tear up the thick of the album with their rythmo-harmonic fireworks: pairing rhythms, playing off each other, switching up; they are the backbone and the nervous system of the album.
"Powerslave" (obviously re-mastered) came cloaked in sleeve decorated with the artwork of sand and pyramids. The title track itself is a masterpiece lyrically. It's written from the perspective of an imaginary god or a delusional pharaoh. Musically, it opens out of a transition from the previous track (standard shred tune, "Back in the Village") and flings the album into a steady, hammering beat (with instrumental break, of course). Dickinson's unique vocal technique shines a bit more here too, creating a believable character instead of an operatic egocentric string of screeches and shrills (something I only let Robert Plant get away with).
As abruptly as "Powerslave" ends, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" begins. "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" was originally a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge about a mariner who brings a curse down on himself and his crew by shooting and killing the albatross (a bird that superstitious captains consider good luck). Iron Maiden chops the poem into grind-size pieces and shreds accordingly, instrumentals included.
"Flash of the Blade" and "The Duelists" (closer to the beginning of the album) both seem to be set later in time, when the sword led the stories. They're both clearly dominated by Dickinson's operatic vocals, but "The Duelists" has the standard badass power instrumental bridging the middle of the song to its conclusion. Dickinson's vocal style in "Flash of the Blade" works well for the verses, but I still can't get over the high-pitches he hits when singing the chorus. As much as I hate it, I've found myself singing along when I'm driving across Alaska. Please don't tell anyone that. Thank you.
"Powerslave" begins in a modern day setting with the jetfighter classic, "Aces High", giving listeners a look from inside the cockpit, and "Two Minutes Till Midnight" which shares a modern view on war and politics.
As you progress through the album, time reaches farther back to bring you a taste of the possibilities of a less inhabited and experienced world. In the time of "Powerslaves," man's progress was powered by fear of the unknown. Fear of imaginary gods.
Source: [a href=\'http://www.uaf.edu/sunstar/archives/20050308/powerslave.htm\' target=\'_blank\']UAF.edu Sunstar[/a]
Cheers
Keegan Keplinger
Sun Star
It's butt-rock, I know.
Maybe it's too graphic for some people, or just too silly for others; either way, I understand the immediate bias because Iron Maiden was an acquired taste for me too. It took about a week or two on the water, where you have to compromise for the airwaves with your crewmembers. Iron Maiden became completely reliable deck tunes, fueling the psychological engine with the determination necessary to overhaul miles of long-line gear. Once I got back to land, I couldn't help but expand my metal horizons.
Like Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden creates concept albums. Their bassist, Steve Harris is the creator and head writer for the band. He is the brain that directs the Kingdom of Eddie. Admittedly, Bruce Dickinson's vocals are the quickest thing to turn someone off to Iron Maiden (he used to be in opera) but he wasn't their original singer. They originally had one Paul Di'anno as their lead singer. Di'anno had a smoother voice and a ruder attitude; too rude: too many drugs, too rowdy, too much of a rocker for Iron Maiden. So we're stuck with the opera singer, but that's okay because Iron Maiden isn't about the singers.
Nicko McBrain (drums) Steve Harris (bass) and Adrian Smith (guitar) really tear up the thick of the album with their rythmo-harmonic fireworks: pairing rhythms, playing off each other, switching up; they are the backbone and the nervous system of the album.
"Powerslave" (obviously re-mastered) came cloaked in sleeve decorated with the artwork of sand and pyramids. The title track itself is a masterpiece lyrically. It's written from the perspective of an imaginary god or a delusional pharaoh. Musically, it opens out of a transition from the previous track (standard shred tune, "Back in the Village") and flings the album into a steady, hammering beat (with instrumental break, of course). Dickinson's unique vocal technique shines a bit more here too, creating a believable character instead of an operatic egocentric string of screeches and shrills (something I only let Robert Plant get away with).
As abruptly as "Powerslave" ends, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" begins. "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" was originally a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge about a mariner who brings a curse down on himself and his crew by shooting and killing the albatross (a bird that superstitious captains consider good luck). Iron Maiden chops the poem into grind-size pieces and shreds accordingly, instrumentals included.
"Flash of the Blade" and "The Duelists" (closer to the beginning of the album) both seem to be set later in time, when the sword led the stories. They're both clearly dominated by Dickinson's operatic vocals, but "The Duelists" has the standard badass power instrumental bridging the middle of the song to its conclusion. Dickinson's vocal style in "Flash of the Blade" works well for the verses, but I still can't get over the high-pitches he hits when singing the chorus. As much as I hate it, I've found myself singing along when I'm driving across Alaska. Please don't tell anyone that. Thank you.
"Powerslave" begins in a modern day setting with the jetfighter classic, "Aces High", giving listeners a look from inside the cockpit, and "Two Minutes Till Midnight" which shares a modern view on war and politics.
As you progress through the album, time reaches farther back to bring you a taste of the possibilities of a less inhabited and experienced world. In the time of "Powerslaves," man's progress was powered by fear of the unknown. Fear of imaginary gods.
Source: [a href=\'http://www.uaf.edu/sunstar/archives/20050308/powerslave.htm\' target=\'_blank\']UAF.edu Sunstar[/a]
Cheers
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)... They event can't spell Nicko's first name correctly... They are not journalists but complete zeros !!
