Savatage - Still The Orchestra Plays On
This collection, as opposed to greatest hits - they disowned their first two albums - of the Eighties prog-metaller's should stand as the epitome of insipid, lifeless plodding deluges whose attempts at portentousness make ponderous seem absolutely scintillating. As fitting the age when it was de rigor to have an 'anthem' hailing the massing metal hordes who await in their tiny back bedrooms to rise up and so they unleash the sky-cracking call to arms of Power Of The Night. Then proceed to limply trudge through a morass of emasculating muso-meanderings that wouldn't sustain a termite never mind an army. There's non-ironic fist-clenching lumbering rhythms and sub Maiden riffing aplenty along with stilted Bruce Dickenson humdrum ham-dramatics that take tales of legions and venturing forth into the night (quite a frequent occurrence by all accounts) - and I'm sure a unicorn is mentioned somewhere too - far too seriously. Such that Ronnie James Dio would drool with amusement.