Most people know
Virgin Steele as this impossibly grandiose power metal outfit that sometimes dabbles in hints of epic progressive. From the early 80s of the powerfully proud "Noble Savage" to their second coming in the 90s riding the acclaim of the Manowar-like triumphant opus, "Invictus", it was the clash of steel, the roar of the battle and the politics beyond heaven and earth that captured imaginations. However, locked in a web of mystery and forgotten mostly due to obscurity and landing in an awkward time for its intended musical market,
"Life Among the Ruins" from 1993 has been disregarded and even hated by the purists. Those that thought it was rather left field, must have blocked the majority of "Age of Consent" from their minds, because that previous album clearly marked the course that lead
Virgin Steele to the
"Ruins". And what a celebration of emotion it is, both dauntingly depressive and intensely gratifying.
"Life Among the Ruins" is a concept album, of sorts. There are no intricate plotlines or double bass brain melters. It's finely crafted
AOR that takes through the maze of feelings brought on by humanity's most chameleon chemistry disease: love. From the lost labyrinth of broken hearts, lying bleeding and shattered, both self inflicted, watching another crumble before your eyes to the airiness and lighthearted delight in purity of passion, DeFeis is the grand master that guides us through it all. He is the seducer, dazzling and irresistible from the shadows. He is the embodiment of the tender, attentive lover, cooing sweet nothings for his heart's desire. He is the victim, a voice so ragged and ripped apart by the vicious venomous claws of a relationship gone to the pits of hell that his former tenderness is wiped away in a storm of despair. It's dazzling, breathtaking, a rollercoaster ride every bit as epic as his grandiose works, only created with a different stylistic vision.
It's not just DeFeis that makes
"Ruins" such a buried treasure begging to be unearthed once again. Edward Pursino, one of the most underrated guitarists to every strum a stringed electrified instrument, makes his presence known en force. His playing is tasteful, complimentary, rhythm riffs providing thick, lustful drive or the exquisite gauzy tinkling of acoustic weaving a sense of loving contentment. His guitar growls, it grinds, it roars in pain and trembles in passion. Every note fits, carving out a perfect place, never overrunning the music or staying past its welcome. It's a masterful performance that matches the soap opera level drama of the music.
And who could possibly forget the music?
"Sex Religion Machine" splits the album wide open, blatant powerful rhythms, a dark pop chorus and a hard rock drive that sends you to your knees. It's driving hard rock that has that lustful
Whitesnake edge and Lynch Mob-esque slinkiness.
"Love Is Pain" finds its wave of smoothness and just rides its crests in fine, flowing style.
"Jet Black" drops into a slinking, sexy groove that lights up the darkness of the song like sunset glinting off the sea. A very tumultuous sea, fickle waves that dare to pull you under. One of the shiningly sharp lyrical lines can be found here,
"black as the space between the stars", as well as the unforgettable,
"Black is the way the world will end". The seething pain, the soulblack desperation, and that sharp cutting edge of love and trust turned to dust. A thrilling track of the anger laced after the relationship has gone so very, very wrong.
"Invitation" is so charged with romance, it's as if you are peeping in on some illicit scene behind the curtains. David's voice is like liquid velvet, the rising smoke of spine tingling desire, drifting through the song with confidental assurance. A short, mostly piano type interlude, but so distinct that its memorable despite its brevity.
"I Dress in Black (Woman With No Shadow)" shivers down the soul as you drink in its ardent amorous intentions and the yearning pursuit. Like a sleek black cat stalking its intended through the dark corners of the moon kissed night, this sultry piece has fire beneath its lust filled haze. The entire song just screams animal magnetism and the provocative quest for that ever elusive, but dauntingly dangerous spark. Then there's the love that lies bleeding. Watching the self inflicted destruction of your loved one, bearing their abuse as they succumb to their demons, and finally surrendering your relationship after the realization of the coldness of a love illusion that wasn't worth saving anyway... this is
"Crown of Thorns". It winds into a destraught conclusion that blazes in a blistering guitar solo.
"Cage of Angels" would be the result of trapping these celestial beings in a pretty little arching cage and pouring out their heavenly delights into musical life. It is a lovely little piece, surrounded mostly by the organic, yet angelic trilling from the ivory piano keys. The bluesy opening to
"Love's Gone" explains it all, the last in a series of sensuous rhythm driven tracks is presented here, like the final tryst in a forbidden affair. The lyrics on this one are especially nice in places, and the delivery is just spectacular. The little verse towards the end of the song, with the harder more aggressive guitar riff, is just the perfect touch, right before breaking into the chorus once more.
"The rose that you gave me just died today..." and so signals the depressedly sweet ending of
"Never Believed in Goodbye". It is a track that stands alone so beautifully, rich in matters of the heart and possessing a regretful passion.
"Wildfire Woman" is deftly sweeping, a gentle flame of love flickering over the plain. Images of a breezy adoration, the heart of a carefree lady, who's love is returned as a magnificently fickle thing, precious and fluttering, like the peaceful beauty of the song.
"Cry Forever" needs no introduction, as it was a key track on the previous release "Age of Consent". The record company originally responsible for bringing us
"Ruins" agreed to put out the album but demanded the inclusion of this song. It's easy to see why they would be so eager to have it here. It is an absolutely splendid piece of music and one of the finest heartbroken ballads to ever be recorded. Poetic lyrics, gorgeous song structures, emotion dripping from every broken, sorrow laden vocal line and wistful guitar like rain from the heavy grey clouds or blood dripping down the blade of a sword that was plunged wrongly.
"The Last Rose of Summer" is a song so delicate, it's ethereal nature and elemental airiness make it seem like a fragile ode to love from the galaxies only our dreams can imaginatively create. David's impossible falsetto is the epitome of purity, beautifully seraphic. This is quite the opposite of his other vocal performances earlier on the album that shaped images of a male sex god on a hunt to quench his burning lust.
This re-issue edition includes a smattering of bonus material, including some acoustic rehearsal live cuts for
"Jet Black", "Snakeskin Voodoo Man", "Wildfire Woman" and
"Never Believed In Goodbye". They are entertaining for a run through or two but beyond that are little more than curiosities although it is nice to have them. Interestingly enough they are very raw pieces that are simply live. No overdubs or studio editing, what you hear is what you get, and the naked purity of these recordings lend them a heartfelt charm that would have been lost on a more ambitious live recording. My favorite here is the track
"Purple Rain", which was not a part of the
"Life Among the Ruins" album, so it seems completely fresh and unblemished by expectations from studio cuts here that a simple recording could not possibly live up to.
Most notably is the inclusion of the studio recording
"Snakeskin Voodoo Man", a sister track in essence and design to
"Sex Religion Machine". They are both two songs cut from the same page, with their confident swagger, erotic rhythms and suggestive lyrical content that sends fire down your soul. This was actually a song that made it to several editions of the album but not all. It was a special bonus for certain regions but others missed out. While it can't be said it is the best that
"Life Among the Ruins" has to offer, and when given a choice between it or the very similiar feeling
"Sex Religion Machine", its clear why
"SRM" was chosen and
"Voodoo Man" was given the proverbial boot.
"SRM" contains more charged energy that dominated metal/rock at the end of its run at commercial success, and
"Voodoo Man" drops the crackling heat down to a bluesy smolder.
From sweet to seductive to sensual at the drop of a dime,
"Life Among the Ruins" is a triumph of the heart. The songs are finely cut gems, sometimes enthralling, other times thrilling, not a moment of boredom inbetween. It easily ranks as one of the outstanding
AOR/melodic rock albums of the 1990s, if not of all time. Why it has been shunned and buried by the metal community is an unfathomable travesty and nearly criminal act. David's talent as singer and songwriter are undeniable and Pursino really comes into his own with his diverse range of sensitive guitar playing that is a trademark of the album. Hooks galore and melodies to die for,
"Life Among the Ruins" is pure pleasure, both perversely decadent and love divine.
Written by
Alanna Saturday, November 29, 2008
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