Ahhh, 1986: Americans were sailing hiiiigh and happy, thanks in a large part to an aggressive pursuit of ‘faith and family values’ and bloated Reaganomics debt. But hey, at least the Contras loved us. And despite Ron’s wildly successful War on Drugs, crack cocaine still somehow managed to slip through and administer its iron grip on our bustling cities. (Which may or may not have been to blame for such forward-thinking films as Ice Pirates, Maximum Overdrive, Short Circuit and Crocodile fecking Dundee.) Yes, things were fantastic, and even Geraldo’s bumbling attempt to unveil Al Capone’s secret stash of Big T*ts and Even Bigger Asses magazines couldn’t curb Americans from celebrating their awesomeness with reckless abandon.
But as horrifying as some of you probably find the combination of Reagan, Geraldo and Balki Bartokomous, this piece is supposed to be about heavy metal and its seamless pairing with our most sacred holiday, not 1986. So, allow me to set a more appropriate stage…
Thaaaaat’s better.
Combating all the popped collars and John Taylor look-alikes from coast to coast, 1986 also happened to be a fantastic time for Halloween and heavy metal. Haunted forests weren’t overly ‘kid friendly’ yet, human-fly’s were vomiting, Jason Voorhees was electrified back into his killing groove, and Sigourney Weaver grew a huge set and went toe-to-toe with Aliens. Plus, bigger metal acts dropped Orgasmatron, Somewhere in Time, Master of Puppets, Peace Sells…, and Reign in Blood (on a cassette with the program repeated on both sides), while slightly lesser known bands marched loudly into the fire with Rrröööaaarrr, Beyond the Gates, Morbid Visions and motherfucking Awaken the Guardian and Epicus Doomicus Metallicus. And right alongside those indispensable gems, one of metal’s most engaging and talented frighteners re-lifted from the depths (like a possessed Great Pumpkin rising from the most sincerely evil pumpkin patch) and dropped his first in a long series of horror story-based solo albums.
Following a smattering of musical direction disputes with Hank Sherman, King Diamond eventually decided to take his unholy ball, Michael Denner and Timi Hansen home, and subsequently made the best decision of his life by recruiting Andy LaRocque and Mikkey Dee for his next musical venture. The result: 1986’s prodigiously whoop-ass Fatal Portrait.
Now, I know there’s more than a substantial stack of people out there who feel King’s best solo work was to come in the years after ’86, but let’s not put the Abigail carriage before the horses just yet. Fatal Portrait was a perfect successor to Don’t Break the Oath. The sound that would eventually become cleaned up, brightened up and modernized for the insanely melodic follow-up was still raw and morbidly dark in 1986. And those distinctly Fate-esque haunted organs & chilling keyboard atmospherics were so very possessing and fitting for dimly lit altars pledged to all things nefarious. Mid-paced, snaking numbers soaked with sin such as “The Jonah” and the fantastic closer “Haunted” could have been ripped right from the pages of the band’s 1984 catalog.
(Highlight: 3:06 – a seething King hissing “Look at the fla-haaaame, and say the rrrrhyyyyyme!!” And the way it breaks from “I am free!!” into a face-melting lead.)
(Highlight: 2:05 – the “aaaahHhHhHhHhHhH-oooooohAHH!!” with that filthy riff layered in the backdrop. How many times have I emulated King at that moment with a fist in the air? Plus, that sweet howl of “I’ll DESTROY YOU” at the end is a masterful way to end an album.)
And gingerly seasoning the damnable stew are the more aggressive barn-burners such as “The Portrait,” and surprisingly catchy, melodic numbers like “Dressed in White” and the ultimate stadium headbanger, “Charon.”
(Highlight: well, apart from the insane amount of lead guitar battling between Andy and Michael, I’d give one seriously satisfied nod to the way King ends the song with the ultimate of mocking laughs.)
(Highlight: that friggin’ sweet lightning lead at 2:08, followed by King’s call of “I am your deeaaath! UH-HUH-HUH-HUAHHHH!” Yes, I’m a man who obviously appreciates sinister laughter in metal.)
And what kind of asshole would I be if I didn’t highlight the most obvious tune on the album? Unlike King’s only other holiday themed tune, “No Presents for Christmas,” “Halloween” is the kind of bruiser you can crank year-round without feeling like the type of person who leaves their Christmas tree up ’til June.
(Highlight: 3:15 – King’s howl of “I want…I COMMAND you to SCREEEAM!” Plus, that bone-pulverizingly heavy kick at 3:38 that carries into its closing seconds.)
So, yes, I’m a bit of a King Diamond fanatic. And I’ve definitely donned the makeup for Halloween more times than is probably healthy to admit. But even when I don’t go the extra mile and run about town in a cape with a bone microphone, I still cheerfully submit to that undeniable itch to hear King Diamond once the Fall months finally hit. King, Halloween, Fall: they’re all pieces of a puzzle that fit snuggly together. And just as I’ve done for the past 20+ years, I’ll be spinning the same slab of Fatal Portrait I bought back in ’86 this Halloween.
Be safe out there, my hellish amigos. And stay heavy!
