K.F.D.

Nothing tops discussing albums where the elephant in the room is so big that you can't avoid it, does it? K.F.D.; potentially the most standout disc in W.A.S.P.'s discography. The "industrial" one, the "dark" one, etc. Anybody who has taken a step beyond the classics and stuck their head into the pool of Blackie and co. deep cuts knows what I'm talking about. How surprised can we be? By 1997, they had long abandoned their glam sound for a heavier touch, so naturally they were going to tamper with something like this sooner or later, right?

Well, at least they did it with their prior identity interwoven. When is the last time you heard an industrial metal/rock album with this vocal style or songwriting? Probably never. The opening tracks do an immaculate job easing us in. The title track, save for the extra electronics isn't too far off from Still Not Black Enough. Strip it down to the songwriting, and it's still comprised of catchy, up-tempo passages and a memorable rock 'n roll chorus. Or look at "My Tortured Eyes" for a hot second. This track reeks of the emotional vocal approach and drawn out riffing that dominated Crimson and Black Enough. It just sprinkles noisy feedback, extra bass (first feature of the mighty Mike Duda!), and those good ol' electronics on top. The cool part? It works pretty well.

Deeper into the album is when the hell-drenched songs really pick up, and the way we're brought to this was super smooth, whether you like the style or not. It was a very smart move to end things on "The Horror," one of the most devious W.A.S.P. songs to date; it's almost like an industrial epic that uses gradual suspense and noise variations to fill the listener with unsettling feelings. To the opposite effect, "Killahead" is where the most drastic change comes in, which introduces a devilish undertone injected into the buzzing instrumentation. The last bit of catchiness is squeezed on top of this one, until "Kill Your Pretty Face" abandons all traces of this all the way through 'til the paralyzing closer.

Noting K.F.D.'s use of higher repetitive notes with a mild whine to them is something you can't avoid talking about. This playing style is what helps keep everything intact. Things would have been more susceptible to collapsing without this important border. There are so many tone shifts within the tracks, particularly on the back half, that it wouldn't have felt as organic. It also goes without saying that this brings on the suspense heavier. As if that wasn't enough, the drumming ramps itself up significantly, which is ballsy after the absence of Benali for Stet Howland.

I'd use the classic "people would love it if they didn't know it was W.A.S.P." line, but I honestly think that this one aged well in the ears of many. Even so, the main point is that avoiding Blackie's distinct sound/voice and writing is just about impossible. Despite its difference, this record still has his touch far more than any would admit. Add in Chris Holmes for another spin and you've got something that's never really been recreated. It aint perfect; some of the aimless vocal spouts (i.e. "you fuckin' suck!" from "U") try too hard, and trimming couldn't have hurt. For what it is though, I have to appreciate it.

Distilling the sum of musical interludes that were found in the 1990s into a single paradigm may seem a fool's errand, even when disregarding everything going on outside the rock/metal world, but that doesn't seem to stop many in the journalistic field from continuing to try. The most common sentiment seems to be that it was a time of innovation, though this runs afoul of the plethora of revival movements such as the New York hardcore scene, the mid-90s pop/punk and ska revivals, to speak nothing for the fact that most of the heavy hitters in the Seattle grunge scene were either borrowing from older rock/metal sources or the former two of the aforementioned punk-associated styles quite heavily. Nevertheless, calling it a time of absolute devolution doesn't really do justice to the decade when considering the impressive evolution of sound taking place in various extreme metal subgroups, to speak nothing for the advent of sludge and a corresponding flowering of doom-influenced sub-styles. A more fitting description of the 90s would be a time of revision, and it proved to be less than hospitable to any band seeking to maintain some sense of traditionalism, even if it was a highly impressive synthesis of the older ways with a sludgier edge like Dio's Strange Highways or with a grungy gloss like Motley Crue's eponymous 1994 outing.

While this time of revision and genre-splicing was underway, Blackie Lawless had spent the first half of the 90s largely in his own world, maintaining his more conservative hard rock meets heavy metal niche, yet expressing it in a way that was quite unique though going largely unnoticed by the finicky mainstream. But with the beginning of the late 90s and the rise of a new generation of shock rock with a more industrialized style being ushered in by the likes of Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson, a fire was lit under Blackie that caused him to pick up the phone and mend fences with classic W.A.S.P.'s other half Chris Holmes. The culmination of this rekindled creative union can be best described as a rebirth of the W.A.S.P. brand, repackaged for a generation that was looking for something a bit sicker and rawer than what Lawless, King Diamond, Dee Sinder and Alice Cooper had trotted out in prior decades. Thus stands K.F.D. (aka "Kill Fuck Die"), which can be best described as a retread of this band's primordial shock rock roots, though communicated through an industrial lens comparable to the Trent Reznor school of ambient noise-driven production and adorned with a filthy, morose lyrical content that could be likened to Lawless pioneering his own brand of snuff rock as a "hold my beer" response to Marilyn Manson's infamous antics.

It might be bizarre to employ a biblical phrase to describe an album associated with Blackie trying to give Orrin Hatch and Joe Lieberman heart attacks by reenacting the "Lust" murder scene from the film Seven with an effigy of a nun, but the music found on here is basically like looking at W.A.S.P.'s classic sound through a glass darkly. When stripping away the fuzzy guitar tone, mechanized drum sound and quirky keyboard samples, it's pretty clear that the amount of actual stylistic changes taking place here are pretty minimal, and largely manifest in a more stripped down, less technical approach that relies a fair bit more on atmosphere than outright impact. The mid-pace rocking demeanor of the opening title song "Kill Fuck Die" could have easily fit onto any previous W.A.S.P. album, and even features one of those classic Holmes guitar solos that everyone was missing for the previous 7 years. At other times the industrial additives do take the band pretty far into left field, particularly in the cases of "Killahead" and "Little Death", which sound like The Lords Of Acid decided to trade out the psychedelics for some PCP. Perhaps the best illustration of this album's sheer level of intensity, however, can be summed up in the elongated closer "The Horror", which stands as probably the creepiest and most disturbing piece of music to ever grace this reviewer's ears, building from a dreary croon to a primordial eruption of morose rage and vindictive anger.

Though definitely not an album for the faint of heart nor the weak of stomach, the character of this album is made so divergent via the production approach that it also will likely stand as a bridge too far for most fans of W.A.S.P.'s other works, particularly those who don't really go for the industrial sound that was all the rage during the 1995-1998 period. The melodic commonality that this album otherwise shares with this band's history is so heavily distorted by Blackie's wretched vocal approach (which could all but rival the harshest vocals to come out of the extreme side of the metal coin) and the top-heavy, noise-steeped mixture of sounds that it's not terribly surprising that in the more than 20 years since that W.A.S.P. never sought to tread similar sonic territory. It's a very time specific album, and one that functions more as a curious experiment rather than an outright classic with decades worth of staying power, which is what every album that preceded it would be described as by yours truly. Nevertheless, this is one of those cases where credit should be given where credit is due, as the shock value here is cranked up to 11 and a band that many would assume to pigeonhole as another random glam act pulled off a stylistic shift better than the vast majority of the older guard. The red worm, once cut in half, will inevitably die and those who revel in watching it happen will only see it once.

Although Blackie Lawless’ cohort was the least commercially successful team from the muscular side (Quiet Riot, Motley Crue, Twisted Sister; early works) of US pop metal, they proved the most resilient and the most attractive one for the average metal fan; I had friends who were listening to thrash and death metal almost exclusively, but had, and still do, a very soft spot for W.A.S.P. I guess a major reason for that was their outrageous live shows as music-wise, the stupendous debut notwithstanding of course, they were hardly the most boisterous, angriest batch on the circuit save for Lawless’ highly passionate vociferous, barking vocals.

I have to admit I remained in the Crue/Sister camp due to these acts’ more consistent repertoire as W.A.S.P. really softened after the explosive first showing, and never managed to produce a gigantic hit from the ranks of “Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)”, for instance, one of my 20 top favourite songs of all times. On the other hand, they never released a really bad album during the 80’s, there were always bits and pieces of every affair that prompted repeated listens, but when they eventually peaked on the triumphant “The Crimson Idol”, it was a bit too late for the metal world to finally start paying more serious attention to the once underestimated shock rockers as new winds were blowing, sweeping away the classic metal laws to which the most Lawless of them all was holding onto steadfastly.

At least the results produced were definitely worth hearing although “Still Not Black Enough” was a considerable step bacк compared to the infernally serious, nearly progressive officiancy of its predecessor, the band opting for a return to the more stripped-down, rock-ish delivery from their classic efforts. That wasn’t going to cut it, though, not in the midst of the most gruesome for metal times. “Adapt or die”, or kill, or fuck in the best case scenario… that was the situation if an old timer wanted to stay afloat, and Lawless finally voted to obey.

“But how exactly?”, was the question; well, the title-track only too nicely describes the case with its overt industrialized flavour although, to be perfectly honest, except for the grating abrasive edge of the guitars everything else is vintage old school W.A.S.P., and this cut is a sure hit Blackie in perfect form, sounding pissed and emotional in equal dozes. The hits have just started, as a matter of fact, “Take the Addiction” being another stadium filler recalling “9.5.-N.A.S.T.Y.” from “Inside the Electric Circus”, catchy as fuck (not so much kill or die), lifting the mood big time although “My Tortured Eyes” goes the opposite direction being a brilliant poignant lyrical ballad, a staple for the band track followed by “KIllahead”, a most infectious modern metal roller-coaster with a rousing rock’n roll-ish vibe.

The listener would be completely sold for the band’s new cause after that last anthem, but the show isn’t over yet; in fact, it has just started and before you know it the whole of Tokyo is on fire with “Tokyo’s on Fire”, a spontaneous jump-arounder that partially abandons the industrial atmosphere, rocking in the good old school way to a great nostalgic effect. “Kill Your Pretty Face” is another ballad, but that’s totally forgiven this number soaked in ethereal Oriental atmosphere, performed in a sinister creepy fashion with epic accumulations in the second half. “Wicked Love” is the next in line supremely memorable heavy rocker that would have been a highlight on the debut even; and “U” is a minimalistic semi-balladic saga Lawless intent on touching the absorbing gravity of the Eternal album with more thought-out arrangements that also carry on on the final “The Horror”, a doom-laden progressive stomper the drama enhanced by serene passages, more Oriental tunes, and sudden more dynamic build-ups.

By no means the guys’ most seductive effort due to its sterile, mechanical at times character, this opus was a perfectly acceptable adaptation showing that immediately won them the privilege to support none other than Rammstein on the Germans’ first US tour… kidding of course, such a scenario never developed although it could have as Lawless and Co. captured the currents on the scene only too well here without losing their identity. It would take less than a minute for the fans to adjust to the innovations as the good old W.A.S.P. simply can’t be crossed off the list due to just a couple of noisier, louder chords. It’s quite inspiring to hear the classic heavy metal panorama delivering almost as well in these new, more artificial surroundings thanks to one of its undeservedly unrecognized representatives. Yes, Lawless had his moments of glory during this divisive period even if the crowd capacity couldn’t be compared to the one from the 80’s, and not only because there were no chainsaws and naked ladies populating the stage anymore.

And this was also the moment when the band literally re-invented themselves. Excluding the goofy unpretentious rockabilia “Helldorado”, a most unnecessary entry into the guys’ discography, the next instalments brought the old swagger to the fullest, especially the first two from the new millennium, W.A.S.P. being one of the very few heavy metal warriors (the Danes Pretty Maids also come to mind) to have reached it without ever splitting up, not even for a month. Lawless’ integrity remains unstained all these years regardless of the diminishing returns from the last official release so far “Golgotha”; I’m not sure whether the re-mastering of “The Crimson Idol”, already a fact as we write, is a very good idea, but let’s hope the man knows what he’s doing… after all the killing, and fucking, and dying all these years we don’t want to mess up our finest hour, do we?

Strangely enough, this was the first WASP album I ever brought. I had taped copies of Headless Children and I think Inside the Electric Circus and had contemplated buying the Crimson Idol, but never had the time, money or motivation to actually do that. So, KFD, or Kill, Fuck, Die was the first one brought. And that was in the sale. But I'm glad that I got it!

Perhaps coming fresh to this, as it were, with no pre-conceived ideas of a long-time fan about what WASP "should" sound like was actually a good thing. I would imagine had I been a big fan and heard this buzzy industrialised guitar sound emitting out of the speakers, my first reaction would surely have been "what the fuck??!!"

I've got all the WASP albums now, and looking back at them, its fair to say that this album would have been a shock to the senses! That said, the previous album stated that it wasn't black enough and that he (Blackie) wanted it black forever. Mission well and truely fucking accomplished with this vicious fucker!!

The guitars sound a bit fuzzy and I guess industrial, but it suits the overall vibe of this album. The drumwork is excellent, not hyperblasting, but just seems to be a lot of it, if I can say that. The vocals are great and full of anger, possibly with some effects on them in places. Clearly Mr Lawless had a lot of personal shit going on at the time and this is reflected in the lyrics, the sound and the mood of this album. For example check out these lyrics from "U" ;

"Listen to me now
No words, I can say, can describe
How I hate your fucking face
And do you hear me now
You stole my soul with your lies
Your killing zone's where I lie
There you watched me die
You fuckin' suck"

Thats the sort of lyrics found on the album, but they suit the album sound to a T.

The songs themselves are relatively similar, up tempo, 4-5 minutes in length but with some quieter atmospheric sections in some. The final track is the longest, most epic sounding and to my mind the best WASP track ever. The Horror is a beast of a song, starting slowly, building up to powerful section about 3 minutes in before going back to the threatening pensive vocals, drums and bass with the occasional guitar line and then with the repeated refrain "Kill Fuck Die" for about one minute, which actually doesn't get annoying although it sounds it, before building to a wonderfully powerful crescendo, which for my money, could have gone on for another couple of minutes. The lyrics, I believe, are about
Apocalypse now, but I can't remember where I read this now and have to wonder if I did actually imagine it somehow!

So all in all an industrialised metal monster of an album with great songs. Not typical Wasp by any means, but brilliant nevertheless!

Black enough for you now Blackie?

Ah! The "terrific" 90's, the decade of innovation and controversy. Some hail it as one of the most creative moments in music, while others consider that the 90's almost killed every sign of good music. Due to those changing times, we also witnessed how most of our metal idols suffered from a deep midlife crisis in their struggle to remain relevant after all the years of excess and success during our beloved "decadent" decade.

Who will forget those "Risk", "Chameleon", "Load", "Jugulator", "Endorama", "Predator", "Generation Swine", "Remains", "Roots"... that made us feel betrayed by all the bands who gave us moments of joy during so many years? And obviously, W.A.S.P. also had their shameful moment, named "Kill. Fuck. Die". With the years, while some of those experimental albums proved to be decent efforts of self-recycling, others just remained as pathetic attempts to keep the attention of legions of fans and record labels that turned their backs to those who were once considered the elite of the music genre.

Where should we place "K.F.D."? Probably in-between them all, because although we can't consider it as a complete failure, it fails to reach the expectations created by the return of one of the last true rock stars to the band that gave him so many satisfactions during the '80s, Chris Holmes. The first impression after playing the album will be very negative if you're one of those who like W.A.S.P.'s classic sound. The guitars are terribly distorted with a very industrial feel, the drums sound triggered, and sometimes Blackie uses a quite annoying vocal harmonizer. It seems obvious that Blackie was very influenced by industrial music during this period. After the first seconds of shock, we may soon recognize the band's typical structures and vocals as the bridge and chorus of the title track erupt.

"Take the Addiction" starts with a very modern riff, but again when the vocals appear, we still perceive those elements that characterized W.A.S.P.'s sound during their early '90s output. "My Tortured Eyes" proves to be a quite dark and intense semi-ballad with very interesting melodies and vocals that make it one of the most interesting tracks in the album. As the songs pass by, you start realizing that the music base itself does not differ too much from what the band previously offered in "The Crimson Idol" and "Still Not Black Enough" or what they will do in, for example, "Dying for the World". The main change relies on the envelope. The production is totally influenced by industrial music and so are all the arrangements and layout. This makes me think that if they had recorded these same songs with the sound of "Unholy Terror" or the aforementioned "Dying for the World", "Kill. Fuck. Die" would probably be a more appreciated album by all the W.A.S.P. fans, but the so modern and industrial production does not let you enjoy the songs of the album as they probably deserve. I'd better go and play "The Last Command"...

Originally written for Ample Destruction 'zine.

Nothing, absolutely nothing in these (almost) past three decades, has W.A.S.P ever disappointed me with a mediocre record and this album is not only under-rated but a true unique classic and no-one else but W.A.S.P could have had the balls and talent to turn this into the masterpiece that it truly is. Hey, this ain’t no “Crimson Idol” or “Headless Children” and it certainly wasn’t made to be a “Sad Wings of Destiny” either. Instead this is just W.A.S.P at their best -- Ever fresh and ever cool!


I can understand why other fans find the industrial sound somewhat annoying, with the down-tuned guitars, muffled vocals and not to mention the fact that the lyrics appear to have been written by a mentally disturbed murderous maniac. So, there’s no disrespect in dismissing this album on those grounds but if we look past the rancid and ugly veneer, you’ll find a pretty standard W.A.S.P fare that we’ve come to love.


Yes, the guitars sound a bit muffled and the industrial vibe in this record is most unexpected. However, the guitar solos are there and they shred! There might not be all that many to feast on, but when they’re thrown, they hit you in the face with a solid crunch leaving you with a bloody nose and longing for more. Welcome back Chris Holmes!


The drumming is superb! Seriously, this is where the album truly shines because it is that damn addictive and it seems to lead the music with different layers of rhythm and tempo on every song. You try pumping this evil little fucker on and you won’t find yourself getting tired from having it on continuous replay. I know I don't!


As for the raspy lead vocals, they really suit the vision that Blackie Lawless had with this album and there are songs that sound angrier than others, others sound somewhat perverted to say the least and to be able to elicit such strong emotion that is 100% real (as creepy as that might be) is a fantastic achievement and the songwriting is pure genius. Mind you… I feel the need to watch cartoons or hug my cat in an effort to divert the negative vibe put out by this album.


All in all this is one mean fucking album – Nicely balanced, addictive, heavy and yet passionate. Only W.A.S.P could have pulled this one out.


So there you have it folks,


A true gem!

Wasp certainly managed to shock a lot of old-school fans when this album was initially released - perhaps not so much due to the actual song material or lyrics but mainly thanx to the production which has more or less industrial overtones at moments.

Having said that - I consider this album to be a masterpiece in the Wasp discography - after the pleasant, but unspectacular "Still Not Black Enough" it was rather time that Blackie tried something new - and that is especially what this release is.

"Kill Fuck Die" can be summed up in a couple of words - pure hate, agression, anger and desperation - that is what this album stands for. Certain songs like for example the titletrack and "Wicked Love" can be described as "classic" Wasp - but the real killers on the album are tracks like the long, plodding "Kill Your Pretty Face" and "The Horror" and agressive killers "Little Death" and "U" , or perhaps the semi-"ballad" "My Tortured Eyes".

A must have for any Wasp fan (or metal fan in general) as far as i'm concerned - just aproach it with an open mind (as far as the production and general tone of the album are concerned) and you won't be dissapointed...