Warrior of the World

...feel this force, join this cause, and rock unite. Yeah, we'll rock all night..."

Betcha didn’t know Dio sings on this lp, except it doesn’t look like Dio at all, and why is his name Edgar Lois? Yep, if you thought Lois exhibited some Dio texture on the debut, follow-up Warriors of the World is cratered by a set o’ pipes that has dragons and unicorns eating out of its hand. Like the speed-driven journey of the previous year’s lively Track of Doom, Edgar Lois’s swaggering lungs lead this eight track caravan, a more modern octagon that smooths out the debut’s wrinkles that sounded almost as old as Manowar max-dosed on ephedrine (with this cover art to match). Just the genuine Ronnie-patented inflection of the words ‘rock’ and ‘light’ found in the first passage of the opening title cut is enough to shrink this guy to about 5’2”, frizz up his hair, and age him about two decades.

Much more evolved by ‘87’s standards, Warrior of the World coils, swirls and wriggles with alarming power metal zeal that’s astringent in melody, leaving in the dust (rhetorically and ironically speaking) much of the stringent speed metal brandished with open arms a mere year ago. Songwriting wipes age and rigidity from its eyes and realizes the symphonic glances on the debut are childlike in proportion to what the four-piece is capable of. Despite the loss of classically-trained bassist Gerard Carol to medical mishaps (replaced by the obviously capable session guy Andre Versluys in the studio and Mike Shults live), the band trudge onward with a slab of music that’s wide-eyed enthusiastic as it sports athletic fretboard dynamics, an undiminished power supply, and nears fanatical musicianship without sniffing the pomp of Dream Theater or the herky-jerkiness of Watchtower. Self-assurance has intensified, fearless not only in sidewinding velocity, but in melody now fully grown to plow through tailgaters “Black Despair”, “Money Satisfies”, and “Freedom Fighter”’s strange machine gun non-beat that’s more daring than been given credit for.

The grumpier guitar tone on TOD has whitened to a note a little less stressful to accommodate their updated lines of songcraft, though percussion takes a bigger pay cut. Double bass, huge on TOD, is less frequent but more specialized here, now decorating short passages for pummeled drama as heard during the chorus of the calmer, more Accept-like “Leather and Lace” and loftily tempered and played “2086”, a trek highlighting some pretty nimble fingerwork that practically sneers at the fleeting strains of real musicology found on their debut.

Lois stretches some large, imposing notes over the tempo-trading “Black Despair”, verse-ending decrees that sail over a compelling, ornery rhythm, one hitting an octave where Halford often rests comfortably. Really, the only throwback to ’86 is “Moving Fast”, a tune featuring cool streaming vocal/rhythm alliances that could’ve easily found employment on the debut, and not at a starting wage.

A better, more versatile record all around (unless you’re a twin bass monster), Warrior of the World not only shows great development in the group’s invention of chops, but an expansion of mindset that the whole band had to have for this to work. Unfortunately, this was it for the Dutch crew, going to the great centaur graveyard in the sky. Megaton Records would soon follow the same year.

In the style of Marvel Comics’s ‘What If…?’ series – what if Dio had released this album instead of Dream Evil? I'll let you answer that one.