Originally Posted by
binnie
Black Star Riders – All Hell Breaks Lose (2013)
Black Star Riders are a confused band. Built from the remnants of the band which toured as ‘Thin Lizzy’ (original Lizzy drummer Brian Downey stepped aside and is replaced here by journeyman Jimmy Degrasso), they announced their intention to continue making music with that legendary moniker, before bottling it half-way through making this record upon realizing that the negative press that would ensue would be counter-productive. Or, perhaps they realized that without Phil Lynott these songs fuck all like Thin Lizzy. Either way, dropping the moniker is not a bad thing in its self. What is a bad thing, however, is not knowing who or what you are. For this is the sound of a band that existed as ‘Thin Lizzy’ trying not to sound like Thin Lizzy whilst performing songs originally written with Thin Lizzy in mind. Me either…………
In truth, this is a decent enough rock band featuring some experienced hands and – in the presence of Lizzy axeman Scott Gorham – one legend. But legends are not always excellent songwriters, and Gorham does not do much of the pen-work here. That task is left to fellow guitar player Damon Johnson and ex-Almighty man Ricky Warwick. The latter has the un-enviable task of filling Lynott’s shadow. In the live arena, it must be said, he has done this exceptionally well and with considerable respect (noting that he ‘stands beside Phil’s shoes’ is a nice touch). Here, he often drops into parody by copying Lynott’s turn of phrase and vocal nuances. Whilst those moments are rare, they’re enough to be unconvincing – added into to that that Warwick’s voice is much better suited to more aggressive and heavy music and the whole feels a little contrived. But perhaps the bigger problem is the relative subdued nature of the performance. Johnson does not play well off Gorham, and often these songs scream for guitar histrionics. When the patented Lizzy harmonies do emerge, they also feel somewhat forced.
That’s not to say that there aren’t moments here. ‘Hey Judas’ has a great Warwick hook and is a punchy little anthem; the title-track is peppered with piss ‘n’ vinegar; the Gaelic fury of ‘Kingdom Of the Lost’ smashes punk into folk with venomous results (although it sounds an awful lot like Warwick’s solo work); and ‘Bloodshot’, which features some tasty Gorham licks, is the sort of rock ‘n’ roll we were hoping for. It’s just a shame that the record is marred with mediocrity – surely everyone involved with this project is better than characterless, cliché-driven drivel of ‘Someday Salvation’, ‘Kissin’ the Ground’ and ‘Hoodoo Voodoo’? Maybe a dirtier production – Kevin Shirely’s work is remarkably polite here – would have helped.
But you know what, despite the cliches, despite the rather restrained performances, and despite the myriad of other problems, I can’t help but quite like ‘All Hell Breaks Loose’. Maybe it’s because I wanted to. But you have to ask this: if a band without the legacy involved here performed these songs to an A&R man, would they get signed? On the evidence here, you’d have to assume it would be no sure thing…………..