mtmccox
Ancient Mariner
I did, I did! I noticed it immediately.
It's not just Nicko, there are other instruments too, including guitars. At around 7:00 minutes.
Me too. Did not think it was an "easter egg", seems pretty clear to me
"The Book of Souls" - Official pre-release thread (CONTAINS ALBUM SPOILERS)
- Thread starter Perun
- Start date
- Status
Me too. Did not think it was an "easter egg", seems pretty clear to me
shadowpants
DEEPER GREY CAME TO MOURN
5...hours...to miiiiiidniiiiight. At least in Hong Kong. If I can't find the physical copy today, at least iTunes album may appear shortly after
12. I hope. OMG OMG OMG OMFG! Heeheeheee. I'm super psyched after watching this forum and all the amazing reviews recently.
My hands will threaten doom if I don't hear it in the next 8 hours
12. I hope. OMG OMG OMG OMFG! Heeheeheee. I'm super psyched after watching this forum and all the amazing reviews recently.
My hands will threaten doom if I don't hear it in the next 8 hours
Meliegree
Evening The Odds.
AncientMariner_Essex
Ancient Mariner
That's just the point though, not everyone will download music and then buy the album.
By downloading something ahead of its legal for sale date you add to the number of hits/downloads a torrent site gets thus helping to justify their existence in the first place. doesn't matter how much you justify "it's just the pleasure of listening to the music sooner" what your doing is illegal fact. No amount of straw man arguments stating "but I'm still purchasing it so not stealing from the band" doesn't change the fact than no one is supposed to be listening to this album until the 4th of September. Anyone who listens to it before that date has stole it and is trying to justify that by saying their buying it anyway.
Anyway, no point droning on as I'm hardly likely to change anyone's mind on this. Maybe I'm just too old school and pre internet you only ever heard an album when it was spinning in your CD player after buying it. Don't get this modern day sense of entitlement that people seem to have that they can take what they want when they want "because loads of others do it".
It's like sneaking into hmv's warehouse and stealing a cd copy weeks before they were due to put it on the store shelves then walking into the store on official release day and saying "yeah I wanted the pleasure of listening to it early. I have no patience and felt I shouldn't have to wait till release day like I was supposed to because, well, why should I. Here's the money for the album as I wanted to buy it anyway".
SixesAlltheway
Ancient Mariner
Wayne Bond is right guys, there's no way around it. Album isn't out until tomorrow. People who downloaded it essentially did do something illegal.
And the point about not contributing to piracy, well you are. It's the old supply and demand....as long as there is people who want to download an album 2 weeks ahead of release then there will be people willing to put it up.
And the point about not contributing to piracy, well you are. It's the old supply and demand....as long as there is people who want to download an album 2 weeks ahead of release then there will be people willing to put it up.
*Almost* no fillers?
Got my deluxe version . The , specialized in metal, record store had a ton of copies in huge boxes and when I asked them for one they told me that they may not be able to sell me a copy because they got half of their order and all copies are preordered . The rest were stuck in between customs and post office services . I reacted normally , not begging or anything , but after trying to see what's going on with the rest of his order the record store owner gave me a copy because I am a good customer of that shop (the benefits of actually still buying albums ) . The price was great , 19 euros , much lower that what the big stores will be selling it tomorrow .
Anyway after one listen , I had listened the first leaked version too , the album is in a league of its own when it comes to post 7th son Maiden and sits proudly among the classics . EOTC is amazing and TBOS gave me goosebumps . The melodies and guitar harmonies in this album are so great, rivaling the ones from 7th son and POM .
Can we have a new triple cd in 2017 please ???
Anyway after one listen , I had listened the first leaked version too , the album is in a league of its own when it comes to post 7th son Maiden and sits proudly among the classics . EOTC is amazing and TBOS gave me goosebumps . The melodies and guitar harmonies in this album are so great, rivaling the ones from 7th son and POM .
Can we have a new triple cd in 2017 please ???
Good to see members of the extreme metal community , which I respect much more than the European "power" metal trash that some people here like , embracing TBOS .
As for EOTC , I think that some people are still confused over it because it is an iron maiden song . Many bands ranging from death/doom to symphonic power metal have used long melodic parts like the one in EOTC . The metal part of the song , which is actually much longer , is full of great guitar melodies and the entire song is a journey .
Meliegree
Evening The Odds.
Almost right. In my country downloading music from internet without seeding is legal.
I've heard a few people say they've got theirs now. I haven't even had notification of shipping.
Hallowedbeme
Trooper
I was there. I'm gonna wait for the video of it.
Consumer Of Souls
Trooper
So? A lot of things are illegal. The law isn't always the most logical or best thing, unless you think we have the world perfectly worked out. Or would you be saying the same thing in Saudi Arabia or the Islamic state?
And there will always be a demand regardless. It is quite ignorant to think that not downloading will somehow slow down the torrent "industry". It is to completely ignore the way the world is evolving. It is impossible to stop, and downloading things will be easier and easier, solely because of the nature of the internet.
And many people who download the album without buying it wouldn't have bought it anyway. And would you rather want them to listen to it without buying it, or not listen at all? I'd choose the former option.
Personally I without a doubt buy MORE music because of being able to download, since I have been able to discover so much more music. I listen to easily over a hundred bands, and many of them have several amazing albums. It would simply have been impossible to first of all, afford all that music. And it would also have been impossible to discover it in the first place.
Supporting this and that.... the world changes. Deal with it. There's more important things in the world to worry about.
cyanopsis
Educated Fool
Yes, I know how to google, thank you. I can't seem to find a reasonable connections between the guy you mention and the one who is formed of the dead and the harvester of souls. I don't think you should take it literally (like most lyrics) I think it makes perfect sence to personify a city to become o being who sucks life from the living as he rests for eternity in his bed.
Well, I downloaded the leak, but I had already paid for one copy.
And I will now be buying this album twice, once physical, once digital.
And I will now be buying this album twice, once physical, once digital.
Consumer Of Souls
Trooper
Yeah, I kind of seeing it as having ordered the album, but then the record store contacts you and says "hey, if you want you can have it in advance, evn though we're not really allowed to". Would I then say "No, no! Of course not! I will wait until the release date!". No... of course i would have taken the album I paid for if I had the opportunity.
Let's be a little careful with the language, folks. No reason to be rude. I don't think CoS was trying to be rude here, but let's try to avoid calling others "ignorant" and so forth.
Josh
Ancient Mariner
Try before you buy.
Hottysmiff
Shooting plasma from my grave
http://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/sep/03/iron-maiden-the-book-of-souls-raw-and-punchy
There comes a point in almost every august rock legend’s career that you might usefully call the The Acceptance of the Inevitable. It involves a tacit acknowledgment that your rtistic heyday is probably behind you, that your audience ultimately loves you for the music you made 30 or 40 or 50 years ago. Your new album may sell respectably, but it’s never going to dwarf the achievements of your past: fans may still queue up in their hundreds of thousands to buy tickets to see your gigs, but they’re doing so to hear the oldies played live. You have become a heritage artist, a mantle that brings with it certain requirements. You always perform the hits in concert and keep new material to a minimum. The style of your latest album should always nod knowingly towards the most beloved areas of your back catalogue: unfair though it may seem, now is not the time to step outside of your comfort zone, stretch yourself, or indeed unveil your radical new direction, however much you may feel your sixtysomething or seventysomething soul re-energised by the sound of Mumdance and Novelist, or the warped hip-hop of Awful Records. You do not, under any circumstances, try your audience’s patience, lest they opt instead to ignore what you’re doing now altogether in favour of staying at home listening to your old albums.
In theory at least, Iron Maiden should be prime candidates for this pragmatic approach. This Christmas marks 40 years since bass player Steve Harris formed the band; it’s more than 30 years since the albums on which their reputation really rests appeared: The Number of the Beast, Piece of Mind, Powerslave. And yet during the past decade, their albums have become ever more challenging and knotty. If they haven’t exactly confounded their fans with a diversion into glitch-hop, their inclinations towards prog-rock have become more pronounced, their songs lengthier and more epic, a willingness to take risks more noticeable: not many artists who’ve sold 85m records are prepared to release an album without having it mastered because they want a raw sound. Their attitude to their new material, meanwhile, has become ever-more bullish: fans who turned up to their 2006 world tour expecting to hear Run to the Hills and Aces High instead got their most recent album, A Matter of Life and Death, performed in its entirety: when an aggrieved audience member threw a sign reading “PLAY CLASSICS” on stage, frontman Bruce Dickinson ripped it up.
Their 16th studio album continues the trend. The succinct and punchy single Speed of Light turns out to be a decoy. There are other tracks here that point to the band’s roots as leading lights of the new wave of British heavy metal, which instilled a punchy concision into metal – among them Death or Glory and Tears of a Clown, the latter a gloomy meditation on the suicide of Robin Williams – but The Book of Souls lasts more than 90 minutes, and almost half of that time is taken up by three songs. One, the closing Empire of the Clouds, goes on for more than 18 minutes. It is, of all things, a piano-led number written by Dickinson about the crash of the R101 airship during its maiden overseas voyage in 1930. It eventually resolves itself into something that sounds suitably Iron Maidenish – galloping bassline, guitar solos spinning off each other, tricksy changes in tempo – but it takes a long time to do so, and for most of that, it sounds like an orchestrated piano ballad, albeit an orchestrated piano ballad with Dickinson’s patented quasi-operatic tenor over the top. If you hear something in the background, it’s probably denim-clad gentlemen of a certain age and “PLAY CLASSICS” persuasion, clutching at the furniture in order to keep themselves upright.
Said gentleman might be mollified by Harris’s The Red and the Black, which cleaves more to the model of how artists of Iron Maiden’s vintage are supposed to behave: its 14 minutes don’t do anything the band hasn’t already done, and contains a nod to 1983’s The Flight of Icarus. It feels familiar but, crucially, it doesn’t sound like a band coasting, a difficult trick to achieve. There’s a genuine urgency and agility about The Red and the Black and, indeed, almost everything here. As is inevitable on a 92-minute long album, there are a couple of longueurs, not least the lumbering Shadows of the Valley, but for the most part, The Book of Souls is marked by a impressive rawness that scratches against the album’s more grandiloquent moments. The title track’s theatricality never tips in kitschy self-parody. On paper, opener If Eternity Should Fall looks a bit daft and overblown: almost nine minutes long, it features portentous synthesizers, an episodic structure, acoustic interludes and a spoken word coda that begins with Dickinson bellowing “I AM NECROPOLIS!” and gets progressively less subtle and understated from thereoin. But in reality, it rages gleefully and propulsively along.
It’s a bit dewy-eyed and romantic to suggest, as some reviewers have, that the rough spirit of Iron Maiden’s days slogging around London’s pubs still clings to them 85m album sales later, not least because two-thirds of the musicians on The Book of Souls weren’t in Iron Maiden when they were slogging around those pubs. But nor does the album feel like something produced by a group of multi-millionaires on the verge of celebrating their ruby jubilee, cruising towards retirement: on the evidence of The Book of Souls, The Acceptance of the Inevitable isn’t on Iron Maiden’s agenda.
There comes a point in almost every august rock legend’s career that you might usefully call the The Acceptance of the Inevitable. It involves a tacit acknowledgment that your rtistic heyday is probably behind you, that your audience ultimately loves you for the music you made 30 or 40 or 50 years ago. Your new album may sell respectably, but it’s never going to dwarf the achievements of your past: fans may still queue up in their hundreds of thousands to buy tickets to see your gigs, but they’re doing so to hear the oldies played live. You have become a heritage artist, a mantle that brings with it certain requirements. You always perform the hits in concert and keep new material to a minimum. The style of your latest album should always nod knowingly towards the most beloved areas of your back catalogue: unfair though it may seem, now is not the time to step outside of your comfort zone, stretch yourself, or indeed unveil your radical new direction, however much you may feel your sixtysomething or seventysomething soul re-energised by the sound of Mumdance and Novelist, or the warped hip-hop of Awful Records. You do not, under any circumstances, try your audience’s patience, lest they opt instead to ignore what you’re doing now altogether in favour of staying at home listening to your old albums.
In theory at least, Iron Maiden should be prime candidates for this pragmatic approach. This Christmas marks 40 years since bass player Steve Harris formed the band; it’s more than 30 years since the albums on which their reputation really rests appeared: The Number of the Beast, Piece of Mind, Powerslave. And yet during the past decade, their albums have become ever more challenging and knotty. If they haven’t exactly confounded their fans with a diversion into glitch-hop, their inclinations towards prog-rock have become more pronounced, their songs lengthier and more epic, a willingness to take risks more noticeable: not many artists who’ve sold 85m records are prepared to release an album without having it mastered because they want a raw sound. Their attitude to their new material, meanwhile, has become ever-more bullish: fans who turned up to their 2006 world tour expecting to hear Run to the Hills and Aces High instead got their most recent album, A Matter of Life and Death, performed in its entirety: when an aggrieved audience member threw a sign reading “PLAY CLASSICS” on stage, frontman Bruce Dickinson ripped it up.
Their 16th studio album continues the trend. The succinct and punchy single Speed of Light turns out to be a decoy. There are other tracks here that point to the band’s roots as leading lights of the new wave of British heavy metal, which instilled a punchy concision into metal – among them Death or Glory and Tears of a Clown, the latter a gloomy meditation on the suicide of Robin Williams – but The Book of Souls lasts more than 90 minutes, and almost half of that time is taken up by three songs. One, the closing Empire of the Clouds, goes on for more than 18 minutes. It is, of all things, a piano-led number written by Dickinson about the crash of the R101 airship during its maiden overseas voyage in 1930. It eventually resolves itself into something that sounds suitably Iron Maidenish – galloping bassline, guitar solos spinning off each other, tricksy changes in tempo – but it takes a long time to do so, and for most of that, it sounds like an orchestrated piano ballad, albeit an orchestrated piano ballad with Dickinson’s patented quasi-operatic tenor over the top. If you hear something in the background, it’s probably denim-clad gentlemen of a certain age and “PLAY CLASSICS” persuasion, clutching at the furniture in order to keep themselves upright.
Said gentleman might be mollified by Harris’s The Red and the Black, which cleaves more to the model of how artists of Iron Maiden’s vintage are supposed to behave: its 14 minutes don’t do anything the band hasn’t already done, and contains a nod to 1983’s The Flight of Icarus. It feels familiar but, crucially, it doesn’t sound like a band coasting, a difficult trick to achieve. There’s a genuine urgency and agility about The Red and the Black and, indeed, almost everything here. As is inevitable on a 92-minute long album, there are a couple of longueurs, not least the lumbering Shadows of the Valley, but for the most part, The Book of Souls is marked by a impressive rawness that scratches against the album’s more grandiloquent moments. The title track’s theatricality never tips in kitschy self-parody. On paper, opener If Eternity Should Fall looks a bit daft and overblown: almost nine minutes long, it features portentous synthesizers, an episodic structure, acoustic interludes and a spoken word coda that begins with Dickinson bellowing “I AM NECROPOLIS!” and gets progressively less subtle and understated from thereoin. But in reality, it rages gleefully and propulsively along.
It’s a bit dewy-eyed and romantic to suggest, as some reviewers have, that the rough spirit of Iron Maiden’s days slogging around London’s pubs still clings to them 85m album sales later, not least because two-thirds of the musicians on The Book of Souls weren’t in Iron Maiden when they were slogging around those pubs. But nor does the album feel like something produced by a group of multi-millionaires on the verge of celebrating their ruby jubilee, cruising towards retirement: on the evidence of The Book of Souls, The Acceptance of the Inevitable isn’t on Iron Maiden’s agenda.
- Status