Blackhearts & Jaded Spades

“…perspiration from a small town turd…”

Quite a few fans thought ‘84’s Night of the Blade was the start of Tokyo Blade’s fearful descent into more mediocre metal. All things considered, it’s a perception I can’t fault. Guesswork as to what ’85 would hold for the T-bladers tended toward an equal decline of this same perception. The year comes and goes, and the view is one I still can’t argue. Tokyo Blade and Powerstation Records split after two years together that seems much longer, leaving Blackhearts & Jaded Spades at the mercy of whatever higher power protects independent and self-financed releases. Whatever it is, it has the might of a minor deity or a lesser godling at best, or it could have the persistence of a demi-god who searches the cosmos for worthy releases. Regardless, there are bands out there that have gleaned rewards from this entity’s rare blessings, but it’s unfortunate these guys and their T.B. Records imprint got the prayer meeting memo a little late.

As far as soft-to-stern ratio goes, B&JS for me is a fluffer of Night of the Blade’s more stern than soft pillow, and the light doesn’t need to be on to find it. However, in the defense I feel I owe to this five-piece, the plush part of this eleven track pillow isn’t the first to cream you in the face. Smartly, tracks with traction gets things moving: the promisingly-titled “Dirty Faced Angels”, which is backed up by the fairly solid “Make it Through the Night” and the mid-paced “Always”, a song that dons more or less mainstream attire while wearing some dirty underwear to sour it up a few ranks.

Now while most life isn’t fair, side one of B&JS is. Three gets ya three; the somewhere on-the-ball first three vs. the lame lowlight trifecta of playful “Loving You is an Easy Thing to Do”, predictably tame “Undercover Honeymoon”, and what I hate to say has become the obligatory ballad, “You are the Heart”, where a keyboards’ tinkle and chime supports Boulton’s sympathetic solos and a heartfelt chorus presided over by Vicki James Wright’s (seems plain ‘ol Vic Wright wasn’t sensually proper enough) gentler side. Can’t say finding strumpets like this here is surprising; it’s a pivot in musical direction that was kinda clearly in search of “Someone to Love” a year ago, however to most hardened T-blade fans, loving these could be like loving sand in your food, harmonica fills and all.

Flipping to the alternate side mixes up moods a bit better as the title tune clamps jumper cables onto nipples that have become bored following side one’s slow roll to a stop, then keeps the juice on for “Tough Guys Tumble”, a middle road mainstream rocker with straight n’ narrow dual guitars and some clear-eyed bass fanfare via Andy Wrighton. The current fizzles drastically in the lush commercial tide of “Dancing in the Blue Moon”, another attempt at charming our pants off with more pillow talk I couldn’t care less in following and keyboards that chime and chirp as much as they soothe out a foundation for it. Just as slow, yet imminently harder is “Playroom of Poison Dreams”, the lengthy antechamber to the album’s thorniest thicket and finale, “Monkey’s Blood”, owner of whatever phantasmal symbolism connects this hot n’ cold gaggle of tunes with the not-so-cool cover primate, another thing about this disc I’m not really too concerned with.

Throughout it all, we’re treated to some decent galleries of Wiggins/Boulton tandem guitar and the range of moods available to Vic Wright, from hot-tempered to high-heeled. And speaking of ranges, one could be anywhere from enamored to angered by the array Tokyo Blade as a band embellish here. Yet even without a day’s medical training, it’s easy to diagnose the infection in Tokyo Blade’s once hotter bloodstream is an even harsher strain of Lyme disease than was tested in NOTB, where its bacteria affects salivary glands with even more hampering flu-like symptoms of mainstream compliance, commercial conservatism, and economic success. Or it could be malaria...nope - the album's last rites come in the form of a keyboard jingle akin to an ice cream truck on its jolly way to a carnival. Great.

The follow-up to this two years in the future would be named a spectacular Ain’t Misbehavin’, dried like the writing on the wall. Mmmmmm, can’t wait either.

About that cosmic protector of labelless freedom, while it didn’t gift Tokyo Blade with any kind of worldwide success, it did award B&JS (TBR1) with a gatefold cover and lyrics on its interior (don’t know about the later Steamhammer version, though), and that’s better than a lot of indie products. Ask Queensryche, Motley Crue, and Metal Church for better stories.