There was a time that I liked Angel, and truth be told, I really can’t remember why.
I first saw them on the Midnight Special, the same show that featured the very first time I ever saw KISS on television. KISS were amazing, everything my teenage, comicbook-cum-fantasy brain had ever concocted, with fire and smoke and blood and demons and . . . oh yeah!.
Then there was Angel. Signed to Casablanca (the same label as KISS), dressed in pristine long flowing white gowns, polyester, disco bell-bottoms, and mile-high platforms, they were like the anti-KISS. Where KISS was ugly, they were beautiful. Where KISS was raw and dangerous, Angel were pure and pristine. Where KISS had testosterone-humping sexcapades, Angel had . . . something. Something I never really could put my finger on. But at the time I liked it. I remember eating up White Hot and Sinful, which today just don’t hold up very well to my ears. A mix of over-the-top glam pop that tried just a bit too hard to be precious. In reality, Angel had latched onto something. With their flowing long (I do mean LONG) hair, glammed out androgyny, and pop-metal hooks, they essentially laid the foundation for hair metal to follow. In their own way, Angel were pioneers. Pioneers of hair metal. Now, I never cared for hair metal, which may explain why I’d lost interest in Angel over the years.
Then I stumbled upon this, their 1975 self-titled debut and a little fly started buzzing unflaggingly in my brain. Hadn’t “The Tower” been a real kick-ass rock song? Actually, hadn’t their first three albums--before glam-overload took over--revealed a band that cranked out a Queen-inspired, KISS-fueled hard rock-meets-keyboard-prog attack that was pretty good? I remembered “Mirrors” from their second album, Helluva Band, and remembered cranking that song near-endlessly in my bedroom between KISS and Aerosmith freakouts. Hadn’t I?
So with those memories clouding my otherwise confirmed resolution against the band, I decided to plop down the $1 and pick this platter up out of the bargain bin and see if 36 years had been kind to the band.
Immediately, my memory proved to be correct. “The Tower,” is a monster of mid-70’s, keyboard-infused (but not guitar sparse) prog pop. After the full on keyboard and manic drum pomp intro assault, delicate guitar courtesy of Punky Meadows pierces through the mix. The bass rides a gentle sweep beneath this, while Greg Guiffria allows his keys to mellow into texture mode. Frank Dimino’s voice at times hits a shrill octave that just screeches too much for me, but not on this song. Here, his voice wavers and captivates and soars, taking off as the song rises and falls to the escalating chorus. Throughout, Barry Brandt keeps the drums active, calm at times and rampaging at others. When Punky breaks loose with his big solo, it’s with restraint and taste, but no lack of dexterity. Truly, this is a “lost” 6:52 prog-mini-classic and all by itself is enough to warrant the band being remembered today. Makes you wonder what their career would’ve been like if they’d pursued this path throughout their career.
But then “Long Time” makes me question whether I spent my dollar wisely. A slower, mid-tempo love-lost, 7 minute lament, Dimino’s voice dives right into that register that makes me want to swallow a vat of acid. Then, just when I’m about to give up on the album, the boys hit it. About 3 minutes in . . . what’s that?! Damn, out of nowhere, the insipid, whiny Angel leaves and we’re left with a damn fine, totally retro, Zep-inspired, proto-metal riff freakout. Man, this is heavy! Dimino’s voice lowers a bit and he rides this passage like a vet of the early ‘70’s acid metal days. Punky layers in some more guitars and damn if the whole thing doesn’t work in the end. Even Giuffria’s harpsichord at the end seems appropriate here, not pretentious.
Ok, so I’m hanging tight with this so far, let’s see what “Rock & Rollers” has in store for me. Big riff intro, neo-gothic harmony vocals. Wasn’t expecting that. Also wasn’t expecting the whole thing to drop away, leaving behind a low-end heavy, glammed-boogie riff, laced with enough keys to make Uriah Heap proud. Heavy and grooving. Not the most original song in the world but damn fun.
So now that side one has made an impression, I flip the disc over and see if side two can maintain it. “Broken Dreams” is a great start. Heavy keyboard prog boogie again in the Heap vein and with a tasty bottom end. Dimino’s keeping his voice in check, Punky’s letting the strings bend, Giuffria’s riding the keys like a man humping his best-friend’s wife. A touch of heavier Sweet here, a hint of ‘70’s pomp. It’s all good, baby. “Mariner” brings back the epic flare with a piano-driven, sea-faring saga.that reaches a nice groove near the end of it’s 4-minute plus journey. Not my favorite here, but not annoying.
And besides, any grievances I had about “Mariner” are dispelled within the first two seconds of the monster, neo-KISS riff-rampaging intro for “Sunday Morning.” The keyboard extravaganza is a bit much for me, but it fits the time, riding in the big pomp world of bands like Zon, Prism, Trillion, or Styx. But even that can’t lessen the rock impact when this song hits its groove. When that ascending guitar riff is riding, the song’s a winner, and it ends with a mastodon-sized heavy outro before it crashes right back into the riff-fest of “On & On.” Again, the heavy stuff here is great. Overall, the pomp glam overtakes the meat of the song and it wilts a bit, predicting some of the more uninteresting pop-metal of their later years, but still when it’s heavy, it’s about as heavy as pomp rock got in the mid-70’s. Which brings us to the over-the-top pomposity of “Angel (theme)” a synth-driven instrumental that really never served as the bands theme as much as the guys thought it would.
So, 36 years later, what’s my verdict? At one time, Angel really were a helluva band, and this is a fine, pomp heavy debut. The heavy stuff was heavy, the pomp was pomp and the whole album is laced with enough of a prog tendency to make the imagination wonder “what if?” What if the American public had been ready for an album like this back in the day? What if Casablanca knew how to market rock as well as they did disco? What if Angel had stayed this course and cranked out their own Magician’s Birthday or Demons & Wizards?
But then if they had, maybe hair metal would never have existed. Maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.
In the end, it was a dollar well spent.
--Racer
Buy here: Angel
Buy here combined with Helluva Band: Angel/Helluva Band
and Mirrors off their next album, Helluva Band
Comments
I can never think of Angel without Frank Zappa's song about Punky Meadows "Punky's Whips" popping into my head.