A Small Deadly Space

Fight’s second album seems rather forgotten about when it comes to Rob Halford’s projects outside of Judas Priest. With 1993’s War of Words proving that he was more than capable of standing on his own two feet in a contemporary style, it only made sense for its followup to double down on those groove metal excursions. But while that effort has maintained a modest cult classic status over the years, there’s a reason why A Small Deadly Space has remained so overlooked in comparison.

While this album is more or less an extension of its predecessor’s street metal sound on the surface, the way it goes about doing so makes for a much different listening experience. Any signs of the debut’s thrash leanings are entirely phased out in favor of an abstract delivery more aligned with groups like Helmet, Godflesh, Fudge Tunnel, and even a smidge of early Korn. The pacing is much slower overall, the riffs are based on stop-start patterns with a noticeably dissonant edge, and the vocals put in a similar mix of abrasive lines lathered in effects.

As intriguing as this setup is, the execution doesn’t show much consideration for the band’s strengths. The guitars and bass still sound as chunky as ever, but a combination of repetitive riffs and stilted rhythms leads to them feeling too rigid and not getting to do very much exciting beyond the occasional tripout. The drums and vocals also come off rather restricted, the former rarely picking up beyond some showy patterns and the latter seemingly going out of their way to avoid catchy lines or acrobatics. If War of Words showed Halford’s ability to make an unfamiliar style work for him, then A Small Deadly Space sees him at risk of losing himself to the experimentation.

But as bad as I’m making it all sound, the first half has some good tracks once you get used to the methods at play. “Never Again” is easily the biggest standout, featuring the album’s most driving riff set along with its most engaging chorus. The opening “Alive” and “Legacy of Hate” manage to make their clunky riff sets memorable and “Blowout in the Radio Room” plays up psychedelic guitars and filtered vocals for an effect that’s somewhere between Soundgarden and Tool.

On the flip side, the second half more prominently displays the album’s uncertain direction. Songs like the title track and “Beneath the Violence” feel like they’re trying too hard, the former takes the distortion to overcompensating levels and the latter opts for a more upbeat chug but a missing hook makes it not feel engaging. It’s interesting to see “Human Crate” border on industrial-doom territory and “In a World of My Own Making” close out with haunting piano-driven balladry, though I find myself wondering how much better they’d be with less dry production and more energetic playing.

Overall, A Small Deadly Space is a decent album that comes off less organic compared to the determined attitude on War of Words. One can sense a less intuitive spirit in the presentation as the alternative mix of influences feels at odds with the tight structuring and playing, resulting in an uneven execution. There are enough great tracks to keep it from truly spiraling but one can’t deny it can come off rather forced. Diehard Halford fans can check it out but when it comes to classic metal musicians navigating nineties angst, Dio’s Strange Highways does this sort of thing better.

After Painkiller was released, Mr. Halford seemed to have suffered an identity crisis of sorts, which skewed his perception of adequate musical direction. The first Fight album; “War of Words” was actually a pretty decent effort, though it was not up to Priest standards. Halford’s musical abortion; known as “Two,” would prove to be a stain on the integrity of the metal god, but he would again recover: produce some respectable material, then rejoin Priest.

Historical summary aside, “A Small, Deadly Space” came at an uncertain time with Halford’s career. The music itself might be described as a cross between Fight’s earlier material, with tinges of a nu metal, though absent of “sludgy,” Korn infused filth. Yes, it is fair to ascertain this album can be considered a metal recording, perhaps “groove” metal. However, the album rests besides the uncomfortable precipice that would allow it to fall into the shameful, substandard anthems either heard on the radio, or professed as “godly” by angst ridden teenagers who worship the thought of being depressed.

The first thing one might notice is the solid production values. Though this album can hardly be considered a masterpiece of production, it is clear that Halford’s affluent career in Priest enabled him to afford a competent production job. A pleasing guitar crunch compliments the abrasive rumbling of the double bass and the authoritative snap of the snare. Halford’s vocals are properly layered, allowing the listener to appreciate the wailing of the divine banshee. Production values: check, album is good so far.

It is of no surprise that Halford’s vocal work is top notch-the man has been bringing the scream across the world for decades, and can still deliver. Each penetrating howl raises the hair upon mortal flesh, and bends all knees in awe. Scott Travis has always been a solid drummer-a talent properly displayed on this album once more. His fills are not overly technical, but supremely stylish. Given the nature of the music, little can be said of the guitar work, other than the fact you can bang your head and raise the devil horns (at times). The riffs are-shall we say, adequate? Thus far, the album delivers in both production and appropriate technicality.

So what went wrong? The problem is not what went wrong, but the fact that nothing spectacular went right. A rating of fifty percent is precisely accurate-right in the middle. The entirety of the album is a forty-eight minute, transitional, circular state of limbo. This listener is basically being teased as if receiving a sonic lap dance. In order to properly articulate the idea, imagine yourself been torn from sleep the very instant a wet dream is about to come to fruition.

Each time a promising riff assaults the senses, one of two things happens. First, the riff repeats itself until the orgasmic effect is nullified. Option two: each solid riff is accented by a period of mediocrity. One track deserves consideration alongside Priest, while the next doesn’t even deserve the position of a bonus track. The bipolar effect of this album will grate the nerves-mania is accompanied by suicidal ideology. If one is willing to brave the emotional roller coaster of “A Small, Deadly Space” rewards can be discovered, but anguish is aplenty.

To summarize, this album is like jerking off to Maxim, when Playboy is available.

It beats me why Rob Halford left Judas Priest to embark on his own musical journey; Fight’s debut sounded so similar to the Priests’ “Jugulator” that the least likely reason for this separation must have been musical differences. Anyway, I guess the Metal God wanted to give his contribution to the new music trends earlier rather than waiting for several years for these aggro sounds to pass, like what his colleagues most likely thought would occur. Those sounds didn’t pass, but established themselves firmly on the metal field, and the more sagacious artists from the 80’s rose to the challenge and had to shed their skin to fit into the groovy/post-thrashy carnival.

In his quest for modern metal glory, Halford took the drummer Scott Travis with him from the Judas line-up, and later teamed up with two members from the power/thrash metal formation Cyanide who never missed the chance to put their names on the metal map working with the legend. “War of Words” was a perfectly acceptable record, well conformed with the modern power/thrash fodder with one eye fixed upon the classic metal canons, and was a headstart for the new/old outfit for whom the future by all means looked bright. However, the band were full of surprises, looking for other territories to explore…

иn the context of what was going around at the time, the album reviewed here was a fairly relevant affair in all its entirety. By 1995 the groove had settled in so comfortably into the audience’s consciousness that there were hardly a handful of detractors left to spit at it and its representatives. It’s very unlikely for the retro metal fanbase to have been enormously offended by it, and I’m quite sure that there were more fans who actually liked it than the number of those who hated it with passion. Cause there was not much to hate here if you think of it… “I Am Alive” is a stomping steam-roller with doomy reverberations with Halford sounding attached and emotional enough to propel this number into the “good openers” stratosphere, especially on the more laid-back interludes. The expectations for another intense thrashing inauguration along the lines of “Into the Pit” from the previous effort should be packed and stored somewhere as this would be an entertainment of a different kind, with a focus on the dark, more atmospheric side of the genre. “Mouthpiece” goes heavy on the thick grooves which still sound dynamic and bouncy, and would by all means make the less lethargic jump around in approval.

“Legacy of Hate” carries on with the groovy caravan, adding more post-thrashy drama to it, with Halford pitching it higher to a really positive effect. “Blowout in the Radio Room” is the track that gets the most diatribe from the purists, and indeed it can pass for the filler with its leisurely careless radio-friendly “demeanour”; but right after it comes “Never Again” which almost matches, and also resembles, Megadeth’s “Symphony of Destruction” with its urgent introductory riffs, more aggressive attitude, and the great chorus with Halford leaving his soul behind the mike. The title-track is an excellent alternative metal opus Halford’s synthesized vocals one of the several indicators that this isn’t Retrometalland anymore, in case of someone still had any illusions about that, despite the more intense thrashy riffs springing up here and there. “Gretna Greene” continues in the same lively vein the volcanic rhythm-section marching remorselessly forward, sparing no one along the way which gets balladically quiet for a bit in the middle, but elsewhere this is a vigorous cut bordering on thrash again, a probable leftover from the “War of Words” sessions. “Beneath the Violence” is even sharper with evil gallops disturbing the peace, reaching headbanging proportions later; the sure highlight without any unnecessary stopovers except for the interesting trad doom metal epitaph. “Human Crate” is a superb doom metal semi-ballad following the marvellous path carved by “For All Eternity” from its predecessor, but this one is more sombre and more hammering. “In a World of My Own Making” is now a full-blooded ballad although the heavy riffs dominate the landscape at some stage; watch out for the hidden track “Psycho Suicide” after that, a stunning thrash/crossover anthem that will make even the most cynical critics’ blood boil, and a most assuring finale to this compelling modern metal roller-coaster.

The classic shades from the debut were gone the guys not willing to impede their modernist visions with old school nostalgia, and to these ears they had created something equally as intriguing. The Metal God doesn’t exactly beat his past exploits, but he sounds quite comfortable with the dense groovy approach also experimenting with new gimmicks (the mentioned synthesized lines) that wouldn’t have been appropriate on the Judas albums. The only performer who seemed to not be utilized fully was Travis as the lack of any speedy “excursions” barely gave him any chances to rip the drums like he usually does. Regardless, the whole crew had gelled really well sounding in-vogue although the diehard fanbase had by all means turned their backs on this opus due to the absence of any more aggressive fast-paced bursts, and the very simplistic, stripped-down execution.

The music world was changing, and Halford had no intentions on putting his head underground like an ostrich, pretending that nothing was going on around him. Fight definitely had more life in them, but the man had other plans about his evolution, and partnered with none other than Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) for the creation of Two, a controversial industrial project which ruined his reputation almost beyond repair. Having reached the bottom, there was nothing left for the fallen God but to rise and go back to what he used to do best, to sing some first-rate classic heavy metal under his own name initially, and to welcome the new millennium with all the retro optimism he could muster leading to the logical reunion with his comrades from Judas Priest. There was a lot of “fighting” through the inhospitable metal “jungle” of the 90’s for him, and this “space” here can surely be considered one of his “small” victories.

Groove metal, that dumbed down version of thrash and traditional heavy metal that took hold of the commercial end of the metal world in the early 90s and paved the way for everything that is considered the scourge of what we know and love in mallcore. Like all alleged innovations, this one started off as a rather intriguing one; basically a slower alternative to the speed and fury of the high era of the Bay Area scene with a few interesting rhythmic devices. But not long afterward it immediately collapsed into a fit of mass pandering and self-parody, as can be gleaned from the stark contrast between “Cowboys From Hell” and “Far Beyond Driven”. Fight’s 2nd album “A Small Deadly Space” essentially followed suit and presented a less intricate, awkward, annoying, dumbed down version of “War Of Words” with the weaknesses highlighted and the strengths downplayed.

While the previous Fight album was a rather interesting mixture of crossover elements and Exhorder style riffs repeated often and varied little, it included a fair amount of variety and a strong vocal performance out of Halford. This just abandons all of the positives of that formula and focuses entirely on simplicity and repetition, while the famed ex-Judas Priest vocalist literally avoids sounding like himself. Rob is still recognizable, but the vast majority of the songs on here features a flat sounding, yelled vocal approach that was present on the last album, but also accompanied by some occasional high ranged scream gymnastics to keep things interesting. “Legacy Of Hate” and “Never Again” are exceptions to rule, the latter being among the better songs on here, but both find the vocals sounding closer to an Axel Rose sound mixed with Layne Staley elements.

From one song to the next, this thing just goes through the motions, banging out the traditional verse/chorus format with the occasional guitar solo and doing so in the most predictable manner possible. There’s very little life to the riff work, the drum work is bare bones simple enough to make Vinnie Paul sound like Neil Peart, and the production sound is so processed and dry that the entire album comes off as a slow marching automaton with the most rudimentary of programming. Even quasi-animated half-thrashers like “Beneath The Violence” and “Gretna Greene” function as slightly faster versions of the better elements of Metallica’s famed 1991 stylistic departure (think “Through The Never” and “Holier Than Thou”) and do little more than inspire an occasional head nod at first listen, before the riffs become played out which surprisingly happens in 2 songs that don’t even hit the 5 minute mark.

In much the same respect as with Ronnie James Dio, Rob Halford has generally managed to associate himself with high quality studio work, and this album functions as his “Angry Machines” (we’ll just forget that Two ever happened). This is basically what most of what mainstream metal passed for in the mid 90s, a tired, drawn out set of derivative thrash riffs played at half speed with about half of the feeling, ergo half-assed. And in much the same respect as Machine Head’s “The More Things Change”, Fight actually finds itself taking ideas from Korn (“Mouthpiece” sounds fairly similar to “Blind”, especially that annoying ride cymbal intro). Often groove metal struggles to be good, and at its worst it barely manages to be metal. “A Small Deadly Space” mostly tends towards the former, but every now and then they actually stumble into the latter on here.

I don't know what was Rob thinking when he decided to do this, but this is the worst record that he has done (Priest made even worse albums, but without him).

Or maybe he was possessed, I don't know. What I know for sure is that this album is pure 90's metal, and while not as complete monkey-feces as Pantera, it still has huge amounts of groove, electronic effects and other stupid influences.

Look at the second track for example, starting with those stupids effects and then the down-tuned guitars (SHIT! No! Please Rob, not you!!) come in playing a very groovy riff and then going start-stop Pantera-like... sorry, but this is non aggresive utter shit. The speed knob was lost during the recording of this album, as all tracks are slow and plodding.

Also the lead playing department must have gone on vacation because there is very little lead work here. And when a lead is done, it is generally too short and aimless... just like most 90's metal (just look at the "solo" in Blowout in the Radio Room...). There are some good moments, like the start of "Legacy of Hate", but then it turns into a stupid groove/electronic effects fest that completely sucks. Even Rob's voice has been modified and doesn't go into the falsetto... I can't believe it. If this wasn't enough, the drums are completely dry and shallow, not exactly the way Scott sounded in Painkiller.

Just look at the line-up, with a guy that later appeared on Marylin Manson's band, you should "get it" and be warned about the content here.

I don't like writing such short reviews, but all these tracks sound exactly the same and you can hardly tell the difference between them.

Luckily Rob realised that this sucks and returned to real metal. But as of 1995, the metal god was dethronned.

So after being a Priest fan, although not a huge fan, for awhile I decided to check out what Halford was doing after Painkiller. What a mistake that was. I was expecting something along the lines of greatness of Painkiller, what I got was generic 90's sludge. The most accurate description is somewhere between Corrosion Of Conformity and Trendkill era Pantera.

Basically everything that makes an album not good is on here. The songs all sound EXACTLY alike. I mean it's hard to tell when one song ends and another begins. This makes it very boring after about two songs. There are basically no lead guitars. This makes for a generic groove feel because, frankly the riffs are nowhere near good enough to stand on their own. 90's influence runs rampamnt here and that is not a good thing. There is a reason metal was dead in the 90's, among other things, 90's metal lost its balls. It became very uncool play fast, have good solos, play more than three riffs, or have anything about the music make the listener have an intense reaction.

Onto Halford's voice. My god man what happened? There are no falsetto screams to be found. Halford was always known for them and that's what made him awsome. He replaced them with very empty sounding cleanish vocals. And to top it off there are irritating "atmospheric" effects put on the vocals.

Everything about this album is just so boring. Nothing jumps out and grabs me. The melodies, be it vocal or guitar, are just there and do nothing interesting. The riffs are generic and not even well played. The drums are a simple as they could be, surprising given who actually plays them. The bass completely follows the rhythm guitar and isn't worth mentioning. So if you like boring as fuck 90's sludge/groove you might like this. If you liek real Heavy Ficking Metal, stay away.