Wolf at the Door

Just like Quartz last year, old time NWOBHM stalwart Trespass returns to the fore with its second contemporary release, Wolf At The Door, coming on the heels of 2018's Footprints In The Rock, alongside Traitor's Gate's equally lengthy Fallen. If my esteem for such weathered "dogs" was already in full swing decades ago, when I'd discovered their early 80s fare, imagine how elated I am now by the Suffolk bound band, led, as always, by front man-guitarist and solely remaining founder Mark Sutcliffe, whose tough yet eloquent voice continues to wave the musical Union Jack in a catchy manner rife with classic melody inherent to the grampa directed genre which proliferates to this ridiculously crime ridden day.

At first, I was nonplussed by the album's girth, a whopping hour of eleven lofty rockers culminating with the piglet munching hound's titular representation. However, in consideration of the properly celebrated quartet's ever-long hiatus, notwithstanding above foray, it's only normal an extended burst of creative juice flows forth. Another welcome contrast lies in uninvited Door Wolf's modern production which goes paw-in-paw with the songs' general nostalgia imbuing tone. As much as harmonious gems such as "Bloody Moon" and "One Of These Days" from before I could walk and talk sufficiently rocked out, nevertheless suffered from wispy, over trebled mixing, but here, there's definitely meat on them bones.

Aside from a pair of satisfactorily soothing ballads in the seven minute "Stranger In Paradise", with fellow axe man Joe Fawcett's mind freezing, Yngwie style shreds, and following, as-solo-defined "Live Like A King" - a far cry from dying like one, Trespass kicks off in top gear most everywhere else. Opener "Blackthorn" (possible tribute to Blizzard Entertainment's timeless platformer, but without the "e") makes stellar use of an auspiciously cymbalized entrance before blowing the door off its hinges, checkered napkin around its furry neck, as a deadly cruncher of a mid-pace riff rules the yowling domain.

A true Trespass hallmark lies in how steadily mellow verses give way to downright combustive refrains, with sinuously bewitching leads never far behind. The battery combo of drummer Jason Roberts and newfound, phonetically cool bassist Wil Wilmot also brings its A game to the dinner table. Speaking of auditory hallucinations, the simple albeit effective chorus of "Daggers Drawn" sounds a whole heck of a lot like "Jack is strong!", oft repeated. The lead on this one smacks of Pentagram's Be Forewarned era, so feel free to exult. The next two tracks rank among highlights, with the swankily pummelling "Force Of Nature" bringing to mind a Tony Iommi commanded Trespass. As for my preferred (medium rare) cut, "Other Worlds", consider it possibly the best material these venerable veterans have written to date.

The thing is, it's not complex; to the contrary, its wondrously plain but immensely emotional and reflective guitar progression makes it instantly appealing, to the dreamy point of catharsis where it feels like a long lost Phil Collins or Foreigner FM staple worth its weight/wait in gold. I guarantee that in no time, you and your pooch will hum its ever regal lines all the way home. Succeeding that, prepare to wig out once more as the gritty "Ghost Pilot" swoops in for the kill. It goes without slaying it's the ballsiest, heaviest number despite light bridge section which unleashes a super duper spew of kinetically fulminating guitar moves impossible to not shake and groove to.

In terms of late party arrivals, the mournfully waltzing and rather Led Zeppelin-ish "Back To The Woods" (hopefully, with tail between legs instead of a full stomach) permits preemptive levity ahead of said ballads, but not until its second half raucously lays down the pavement for gang howled knuckle duster "Crooked Cross" - not quite as effervescent as a Slayer rendition, but compelling all the same thanks to its hard-driven moxie as well as slight similarity to twenty-first century Quartz. As far as filler goes, "Unsinkable" is a bit of a bummer due to its generically elegiac, humdrum pace. Had it been excluded, Wolf At The Door might've benefited from a minutely greater score. Regardless, the new wave of British heavy metal torch is rekindled within the Trespass camp.