Diamond Head - Metal's shooting stars

Am I evil? Yes I am!

England's Diamond Head are more of an anthropological case study than a musical one. Much like the Sex Pistols. No one else in rock history has managed to be so influential with such a meagre output. Unlike the inventors of punk, though, and much to their discredit, Diamond Head spent a sad twenty-odd years trying to rehash the same handful of songs — a mere 7 songs, 7 — succeeding only in tarnishing the reputation of those songs, as well as their own. After all, this is a phantom band, a group born dead: and their fairly modest popularity is owed entirely to the far more famous acts who, over twenty years, championed them to their own fans, who in turn became Diamond Head fans themselves. Metallica's immense popularity has been a genuine godsend for Diamond Head. In 1998 the kings of metal included no fewer than 3 Diamond Head songs on their covers album Garage Inc. — songs they had, in any case, been playing live and releasing as singles for ages.

For these fundamental reasons, it would be more appropriate to talk about Lightning To The Nations rather than about Diamond Head as a band. Still, a brief look at the latter will help put the former into context.

Diamond Head (a classic four-piece lineup) formed in 1976 in Stourbridge, England, joining Iron Maiden, Saxon, Angelwitch and many others in the nascent British metal movement inaugurated by Judas Priest and Rainbow, and dubbed by critic Geoff Barton the "New Wave Of British Heavy Metal". Diamond Head, however, were among those bands drawing more on the hard rock of Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin (not even Black Sabbath) than on the excesses of Judas Priest and Rainbow; they saw the metal style as an (inferior) development of hard rock rather than a break from it or a rejection of it, which is instead what Iron Maiden and Motorhead were doing, each in their own way. The band was formed by Brian Tatler together with schoolmate Duncan Scott. Singer Sean Harris joined them, while finding the right bassist proved trickier: they went through three before settling on Collin Kimberley in 1978. Their first demos arrived in 1979, landing specifically on the desk of Geoff Barton, who wrote for Sounds magazine. With help from friends and family, the still-inexperienced Diamond Head found themselves opening for Ac/Dc and even for Iron Maiden. Despite this, the band never managed to sign with a major label, remaining firmly within the independent circuit.

Four years later, in 1980, just like Iron Maiden (also formed in '76), Diamond Head managed to release their debut album, which, like Iron Maiden's own debut, deserves to be ranked among the ten most important albums in metal history. They made it in a rush, working in a rather slapdash fashion, and those tapes failed to interest any record label. In the end, the debut was released by a tiny independent label, Happy Records. Of this first run of 1000 copies, 250 were even signed by the band members. The only real publicity came via Sounds magazine, but the band didn't even pay for the ad and ended up in legal trouble over it. Topping off such a chaotic run of management, the original master tapes were lost, only to be rediscovered in 1990 by Metallica's Lars Ulrich. Only an alternate-history enthusiast could really imagine what these Englishmen might have achieved with even slightly more professional management of their talent. In practice, the only release to actually hit the market was the single "Sweet & Innocent", put out by Media Records, which gave their presence in the marketplace a slightly more tangible form. In a desperate, clumsy marketing move, they cobbled together an unjustified tour, complete with Hells Angels handling security: unsurprisingly, it was a disaster, sinking the already precarious finances of the Diamond Head circus even further. Still, against all odds, someone believed in them: Charlie Eyre, who signed them to a five-album deal, starting with their second record.

Lightning To The Nations: English metal's (almost) forgotten masterpiece

But let's go back to the debut, which is, after all, the reason Diamond Head deserve any attention at all. With Lightning To The Nations, Diamond Head pulled off the far-from-easy feat of writing 7 formidable songs back to back, and doing so within the still-forming grammar of a genre that was inventing itself as they went. There is, however, a catch, and it's what makes Diamond Head considerably inferior to Iron Maiden. That catch amounts to a gap of ten years or more. Indeed, any given song was performed by Diamond Head — and not only due to the recording and mixing limitations of the era — according to the stylistic conventions and volume levels of late-60s/early-70s hard rock; Iron Maiden, by contrast, played with a speed and power never heard or even imagined before (with the exception, albeit on a different plane, of Motorhead), one that would only find full expression over the course of the Eighties. We're talking about two different worlds, and the contradiction is all the sharper given how compositionally fundamental Diamond Head's work proved to be for those who came after. As if two eras, obviously irreconcilable, were nonetheless trying to communicate by telephone.

In concrete terms: Sean Harris sang like Robert Plant, Brian Tatler played guitar like Jimmy Page, save for an innate roughness and heaviness foreign to the latter but which, fortunately, brings the former back into the fold of metal guitarists; the rhythm section (the bass especially, since the drums were still kept in the background and too confined to a purely accompanying role) was the only element already in step with the scale of Judas Priest. What matters most, though, is that the lyrics and songs were there — the very foundation on which all future metal, including today's, in every one of its branches and variations, would be built.

All that remains is to analyze the masterpieces on Lightning To The Nations, bearing in mind that they were written like the most modern metal songs — symphonic pieces running past the five-minute mark, pervaded by obsessive, violent rhythms and Manichean, depraved, mournful themes — yet delivered with the most old-fashioned hard rock phrasing. Metallica would later take these songs and show that they were already, quite clearly, examples of heavy metal: all it took was knowing how to interpret them correctly. On that very interpretation, the inventors of heavy metal would build no small part of their fortune.

"Lightning To The Nations" opens the album in commanding fashion, with riffs that are extremely violent, extremely fast, and extremely bleak. The harmony is poignant and despondent. No respite whatsoever. A race toward an end that has already caught and finished us off. Diamond Head present themselves here as the missing link between the doom-hard rock of Black Sabbath and the heavy-speed of Mercyful Fate.

"Prince" charges in at full gallop: a very different setup from the previous track, yet no less devastating — then everything comes to a halt for a pair of memorable riffs that rise up like granite. The deeper rock vein underneath allows for another thoroughly engrossing harmony. Endless despair and resignation seep through, the kind that aesthetic carefreeness finds it ever harder to bear. The bluesy coda built around the central riff is memorable, as though it wanted to nostalgically carry with it all the stories of human centuries. Harris, whenever he drops the Plant impression, also manages to be devilishly evocative (and he does so playing the victim-accomplice of evil).

"Sucking My Love" could pass for a classic hard rock-blues jam (a 9-minute one) were it not for Tatler's extremely rough, and therefore anti-blues, guitars, which act as an antidote to Harris's overblown, hedonistic, panic-stricken vocal (complete with dated orgasmic wails). The pre-final guitar blues phrasing is so primal that, despite Harris's "Plant-ing" around, it inevitably grabs and moves the listener. The mood, needless to say, is nocturnal — though closer to Blue Oyster Cult than to Black Sabbath.

"Am I Evil" is the metal song par excellence. Metallica would turn it into the genre's flagship anthem. A drum intro straight out of a battlefield, the bass bursting in; then the legendary guitar runaway, before crashing back down (a minute and a half in) into the clawing nihilism and power — building, eventually, to a choral, both emotional and formal, climax — that defines the rest of this manifesto. There's even room for a perfectly timed tempo shift, from fast to, naturally, even faster, with a terrific showing from the rhythm section. The line "Am I evil? Yes I am" could well be signed by James Hetfield as the spiritual testament of his entire artistic career. The finale is left to an epic, unhinged guitar that borders on the uncontainable, replacing classic free-form soloing with a self-referential framing of pure pessimism and malaise. Class to spare. Still a masterclass for everyone, even today.

"Sweet And Innocent" is the other, rather too blatant, surrender to hard rock, alongside the lengthy "Sucking My Love"; still, a Beatles-via-Aerosmith chorus, smelling of America, at least partly redeems it from the Led Zeppelin plagiarism elsewhere. "It's Electric" returns to the gospel of no escape. Harris shifts his delivery, almost foreshadowing Hetfield, pitching an octave below Plant. The band settles into a recurring pummelling and pounding. The guitar solo is weak, lacking in imagination; the guitar itself, otherwise, comes across as thoroughly metal. There's no point listing everyone who has drawn from these songs: suffice it to say that anyone who plays metal starts from these songs. "Helpless" revisits the blueprint of "Lightning To The Nations", "The Prince" and "Am I Evil" — the best of the best here — with the same heavy, devastating drive running through the whole arrangement and a cathartic harmonic interlude; yet, aesthetically and emotionally, it never quite reaches those same heights. The ending is, paradoxically, heart-pounding, with syncopated machine-gun bursts, proving once again the originality and imagination of a work that was, for its genre, truly avant-garde.

Attempts at commercial success: Borrowed Time and Canterbury

In 1982 the band recorded the EP Four Cuts, stood in for Manowar at a BBC concert, and arrived at their second album. Borrowed Time (1982) replicated the ideas of the debut with a more commercial, polished sound, offering above all the title track, with its prog touches, while also recycling two songs from the first record. Little remains of the early thrash-metal seeds, and nothing stands out particularly within that year's scene, already buzzing with altogether different new sounds. MCA, who released the album, thus tried to cash in on the potential of a band that had, up to that point, promised much commercially without delivering a great deal. Somehow, they still reached number 24 on the UK charts. Canterbury (1983) saw them fall in line with pop-metal and the most radio-friendly, bombastic hard rock, at times drawing close to Queen in their more progressive flourishes. Scott quit during the recording sessions, and Kimberley left right after laying down his bass parts. Harris and Tatler finished the album on their own, with considerable effort. To top off their bad luck, sales — which had started off decently — were hampered by some vinyl pressing issues. Even so, they reached a modest number 32 on the UK chart. Black Sabbath brought them along as special guests on their European tour.

In 1984 they overreached with an 18-date UK tour that only worsened their financial troubles. In 1985 they inevitably broke up. After nearly ten years apart, the comeback with Death And Progress (1993) presents a more aggressive but also infinitely more predictable lineup: it's their most professional and best-played album, more musical and better produced too, but at the same time infinitely less interesting, original and seminal than their debut, because in the meantime heavy metal had gone off in an entirely different direction. The fact that Dave Mustaine of Megadeth and Tony Iommi take part, however, shows that by then they had become a cult act. Their final show is as openers for Metallica: the crowning moment of a career spent as a hidden influence on a style they never fully developed themselves. The reunion is nonetheless short-lived, and Diamond Head slip back into the shadows.

The first reunion: All Will Be Revealed and What's In Your Head

In 2000, Harris and Tatler reconnect to play an acoustic set, in 2002 they play in the United States for the first time and set off on a new tour at home. A new album seems imminent, but tensions between Harris and the others make it impossible. Nick Tart, previously of Cannock, comes in to replace Harris, and the comeback finally arrives with All Will Be Revealed (2005), which presents a lineup devoted to a melodic, bland post-grunge heavy metal that historically belongs to the early '90s rather than to 2005. What's In Your Head (2007) won't do much better, even if a more powerful, aggressive sound tries to revive a lost sense of originality. Whether because of the classic status English heavy metal had attained after the usual 4-5 decades, or because of a more streamlined promotional effort, this is the moment when Diamond Head function best as a going concern: two US tours, dates in Japan and Europe, and a few notable metal-world events finally bring attention to the English band, even if between the 2000s and 2010s they no longer play the kind of music for which they were deemed influential and important. Nick Tart moves to Australia, making it too costly to keep up live activity. In 2013, this incarnation of the band also comes to an end.

The second reunion: Diamond Head, The Coffin Train and... a sacrilege

In an attempt to reinvent themselves, decidedly past their prime, Tatler recruits Rasmus Bom Andersen on vocals to release their seventh album, Diamond Head (2016), which is sharp and enjoyable, but only if you're willing to take it as pure hard'n'heavy entertainment. Surprisingly, it's their eighth album, The Coffin Train (2019), that achieves their best chart position on the UK rock and metal albums chart: a respectable fifth place, albeit in a now tiny market.

They have incredibly outlived many of their peers, without ever becoming truly famous, through countless lineup changes, breakups and reunions. The English band may have written one masterpiece along with plenty of pointless, inferior follow-ups, but they've proven to have thick skin and a rare stubbornness, which makes it easy to forgive even the stream of compilations, live albums and EPs released throughout their career. Their latest, clumsy attempt at cashing in was Lightning To The Nations 2020 (2020), a new recording of their one true classic with Rasmus Bom Andersen on vocals and the new lineup: by the standards of metal, a genre always so reverent of its cult albums, it's close to sacrilege.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

Share on

This article is an English translation of the original Italian text, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

Read the original in Italian · About the English edition