Of all W.A.S.P.’s controversial antics throughout the years, Blackie Lawless’ fairly recent conversion to Christianity is probably the most shocking. This is the man who brought us classics like “Don’t Cry (Just Suck),” “Kill Fuck Die,” and the classic Tipper Gore party-favorite “Animal (Fuck Like A Beast).” All three of those are killer tunes, with the latter an all-time great of 80s metal, but W.A.S.P. has moved on. I guess our sawblade-codpiece-wearing giant done growed up…
All joking aside, Blackie’s been open about his youth spent in the church, and that his rebirth is as much of a return as it is an about-face, but either way, it’s still an unexpected twist on the W.A.S.P. saga. You can think what you want about the man’s religious views – confusion, disappointment, disgust, disinterest, respect – he’s got them; he’s not shy about them, but he doesn’t seem to be proselytizing. Most importantly, aside from altering the set-list of a modern W.A.S.P. concert, and aside from some overt references to Jesus in the latest lyrics, his newfound holiness doesn’t really seem to change anything at all.
If you’ve been with W.A.S.P. since the beginning — through “Animal,” through “L.O.V.E. Machine” and “Blind In Texas,” through Chris Holmes’ infamous drunken buffoonery — then you’ve seen Blackie’s growth, even if you didn’t notice it. You should have been (hopefully pleasantly) surprised when Blackie led his merry miscreants from party-hard Sunset Strip metal into more cerebral climes with 1989’s stellar The Headless Children. From there, you should’ve been ecstatic when W.A.S.P. kept moving upward to their creative peak, 1991’s The Crimson Idol, the first of Blackie’s rock operas, and a cohesive piece of artistry that added more depth to match his always-strong songwriting chops.
But that was twenty-five years ago. Since then, W.A.S.P. (which is and always will be Blackie, no matter who’s playing alongside him) has released ten records, all solid variations on a theme – one an underrated industrialized attempt to stay current in the 90s, two of them part of another rock opera, some with a returning Chris Holmes, and more without him… Golgotha is the tenth of those records, and it’s musically exactly what W.A.S.P. fans want from a W.A.S.P. album in 2015, except now with added Jesus. It doesn’t step outside Blackie’s comfort zone – it doesn’t deviate from the plan. It just rocks. And unlike that quarter-century march toward maturity, that shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone playing along at home because W.A.S.P. has always rocked, from the self-titled debut to 2009’s Babylon.
If you get past the similarity between the opening riffs on both Babylon and Golgotha, you’ll find… well, more similarity. Golgotha is sonically pretty much an extension of the past decade of W.A.S.P., but that’s fine with me. For all their shenanigans, W.A.S.P. has always really been about Blackie’s twin strengths: his grand gift for rock songwriting and his inimitable gravelly scream, equally melodic and howling. Both of those traits are on full display, from the opening of “Scream” to the “Jesus, I need you now” refrain of the title track. The eight-minute “Slaves Of The New World Order” drags on a bit, but it’s still not quite a stumble – just not as strong as what’s come before.
W.A.S.P.: Braking your (sic) little heart since 1982.
Most of Golgotha will feel immediately comfortable – the rockers rip, and Blackie sounds as good as ever. “Scream” and “The Last Runaway” are vintage Lawless, while the pensive “Miss You” is as good a W.A.S.P. ballad as has come along in awhile. It’s not as much of a power ballad as the likes of “Forever Free” or “Hold On To My Heart,” but it occupies a tempo both moody and driving, in the minor-key mode of modern Lawless fare. Originally written for The Crimson Idol, “Miss You” would’ve fit in great on that record, but for whatever reason, was left on the cutting room floor. (For any superfan wondering, lyrically, it deals with Jonathan Steele’s loss of his older brother and idol.)
If anything puts people off the record, it will likely be the overt Christian references in “Golgotha” itself, but Blackie plays in his spirituality expertly. This is not a Christian rock song commanding you to come to Jesus, or even one literally singing the praises of a “righteous” life. This is a song of some unnamed protagonist reaching out for comfort and finding it in faith. The midtempo arrangement and arena-ready chorus fits perfectly, searching and yet anthemic. Sure, it’s still a wee bit weird to hear the voice that once screamed “I’m gonna kill your pretty face!” crying out for the comforting arms of Christ, but it’s less weird than you’d think because, now as then, the man sure can write a damn good rock song.
Like Dominator, like the under-appreciated Babylon, Golgotha is strong, but it’s not perfect – after a couple of albums more or less just like it, Golgotha feels a bit like W.A.S.P-by-numbers. Nevertheless, if you’ve hung around this long and you’re still listening, then you’ll enjoy every second of it, and with good reason.
Jesus or no Jesus, “Animal” or no “Animal,” W.A.S.P. at least still rocks like a beast.
Leave a Reply
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Only rediscovered this album recently, and l am far from religious, the opposite in fact, but this is a album l am enjoying, cheers for the review.