In every friendship I have cultivated over the last few years I’ve found it necessary at some point to sit down face to face with my new friend and tell them about a part of me that not everyone sees. You might not know it to look at me — which is what often makes it such a shock to those close to me — but I love European power metal.
European power metal — not to be confused with its less-melodic North American cousin — is characterized by soaring melodies, virtuosic, unrestrained guitar (and keyboard/keytar) playing, and mythological and supernatural themes. For the sake of brevity, I will refer to it henceforth simply as “power metal.”
Power metal’s focus on craft is a refreshing counterpoint to the DIY aesthetic that dominates much of today’s music. In the last decade, an inordinate number of whimpering waifs have sighed their way into the music collections of tasteful and sensitive young people, relying almost entirely on sincerity and underdog charm for their effect. I like Bonnie “Prince” Billy as much as the next person, and I can tolerate a bit of Iron & Wine, but it would be difficult to argue that they are any kind of vocal or instrumental master technicians.
This is one reason power metal appeals so much to me: I am not a musician of any sort, but even I can tell that most power metal musicians have very difficult jobs. Even its pace requires dexterity and endurance. It is a miracle that the drummers’ hands don’t seize up more often, given the obscene speed at which they play. The guitarists are equally impressive, and the vocalists show tremendous range.
Most of what I have written so far could be said of many genres. There are, of course, other good musicians. And what about the other “metals”? This is where power metal’s themes are important. A lot of today’s music expresses a distrust of traditional institutions and promotes individual gratification, which is great — sometimes. However, our collective total mistrust of everything is destroying the world, and maybe that’s why I like power metal so much. As often as power metal groups sing about falling in love with the moon goddess or eternal curses, they sing about their affiliation with some establishment in which they take great pride.
Take Rhapsody (of Fire)’s “Holy Thunderforce,” the chorus of which goes, “so we’ll fight against the wind / for the glory of the kings / to defeat the evil enemies / and we’ll ride with our lord / for the power and the throne / in the name of holy thunderforce.” This pride at being part of an organization is a rare thing in modern popular music, especially if one does not consider the Wu-tang Clan an organization.
Power metal bands go so far in asserting their group’s righteousness that they sometimes urge an unsettling degree of unity. Hammerfall’s Joacim Cans, in Bloodbound, sings “united we are till the day we fall / a chain unbreakable / every link is allied to our mighty vow.” Of course, if a politician said anything like this, he would be called a fascist and perhaps rightly so. But as long as we are talking about a fantasy world, a clearly defined moral path with a dedicated and united group of followers is a romantic idea.
Perhaps that’s what appeals to me about power metal. It not only portrays a world with a lot more social capital — it portrays one with clear moral boundaries, something I could use the next time I am trying to decide whether to spend $50 on a half dozen Cambodian children to work in my walk-in ice cream freezer.
