Flying Tigers

The story goes something like this: in a fit of pique, vainglory or outright lunacy, White Wizzard's founder and guitarist/bassist Jon Leon wantonly shuffles the full-length debut (Over the Top)'s line-up like a pack of cards, but somehow Lady Luck smiles upon his wiles by dealing him a rather commendable crew in time for the band's next foray, the Shooting Star and Ronnie James Dio tribute single (with the B-side featuring a masterful cover of the legendary front man's 1984 staple, "We Rock"). So far, so good, but apparently, Leon figures "so what?" and then proceeds to further mishmash his outfit by dropping fellow competent ax man Lewis Stephens, thus assuming full guitar - and bass - duties while retaining Giovanni Durst on drums and re-engaging vocal dynamo Wyatt "Screaming Demon" Anderson, who, might I add, duly lived up to his moniker on said Over the Top. Unfortunately, fans of the Wizzard will have to wait until its third album, The Devil's Cut, for a relatively strong vocal performance on behalf of (yet another newcomer in) Joseph Michael, as throughout this affair's hour long run of a dozen tracks - bearing a couple fortuitous exceptions - it sounds like the Metal Gods have unduly stolen his thunder.

That said, the ensuing result of this upheaval is a veritably wacky, convoluted and stretched beyond reason teeny-bopper-like production and head-scratcher, the infamously provocative sophomore release, Flying Tigers; evidently, it's named after the World War II fighter squadrons with the shark-faced nose commissioned to defend China against Japanese forces (its pilots were officially members of the Chinese Air Force). Now this is the thing: the musicians on board aren't entirely at fault for its flummoxing array of zig-zagging song constructs, watered down rhythms and all-around musical tomfoolery. Rather, these can be ascribed to the band's outright state of flux and chaotic disharmony. At the moment, I can't think of a better example of karma; in other words, Leon reaped what he sowed with his petulance, namely disarray and confusion, so prevalent on a number of tracks and the album as a whole.

Right off the bat, the listener has every reason to put his guard up as the opener, "Fight to the Death", yields a hair-brained and juvenile stomping riff which truly pales next to classic, such stylized wompers such as Led Zep's "Immigrant Song" or Rage Against The Machine's "Bulls On Parade"; it doesn't help the rhythm section thumps meekly or that Anderson, for some reason, lacks his usual high-flying flair - in fact, here (and on most of the album for that matter) he sounds geeky in a feeble, nasal sort of way. It's certainly not a very promising or poignant start! Thankfully, the next track, "West L.A. Nights" fares much better; here, the boys re-capture the debut's rushing vibrancy by way of commanding drum beats, pleasingly fluid and melodic guitar harmonies as well as debonair, good time verses which give the impression of warm, Santa Ana winds blowing through one's hair while joyously embarked on a chick trolling thrill ride. Granted, the chorus is a bit kitsch but hey, at this point, liberating and rocking party-anthems are what the Wizzard does best!

Following this suavely auspicious moment, it's practically downhill until the end with hardly any further ballsy or fun redemption as the yawningly placid "Starchild", with its bland guitar progression and excruciatingly slow tempo, not to mention a frilly Hawaiian luau sounding solo section, really gets my goat in the truest and worst sense of the word. Fast forward please! The title track which ensues, to its credit, readily picks up the pace with its grooving bass line and tumbling drums - even Anderson reclaims some of his past (and future) glory here with his high-pitched wails and heartfelt inflections. As well, it features the strongest lead break of the album, colorfully phrased and statutorily melodic. Nevertheless, it's not as memorable as past worthies such as "High Speed GTO", "Out of Control" or even the lyrically trite "Strike of the Viper".

"Night Train to Tokyo", for its part, is no "Tokyo Rose" (Riot) or "Nightflight to Tokyo" (Witch Cross) but still manages to compellingly pay tribute to Japanese geishas with racy and risqué vocal lines such as "Walking streets on a summer night/See her there under neon light/Lipstick, Leather, Silky skin/My body burns My head it’s spinning" and "Lookin’ at the girl with jade green eyes/Puts me in a trance and mystifies/Night wing lady riding the wind/Dressed to kill and in for sin". While its openings bars adhere to the same weak fluff as "Fight to the Death", it eventually evolves into a catchy and romantically ribald romp through the roses, if you know what I mean! The clean progression midway in and mellifluously swinging solo are also nice surprises. All things considered, it's one of the better cuts on display. The revved up and stripped down "Night Stalker", while not extraordinary, doesn't detract from this swell turn of events.

The five tracks which follow, however, stir me into a blind rage as they're essentially the overkill and pointless, meandering sonic explorations I was alluding to when describing how watered down this release is. "Fall of Atlantis" may have an interesting thematic premise but to my ears, is simply too jangly and frenetic - it's neither relaxing or engaging, just mind-jarring in a haphazard and stressed out way. "Blood on the Pyramids" is blandly belted out like so much fustian filler whilst "Demons and Diamonds", despite its accessible opening guitar progression and drum ride, fails to instill more than a fleeting interest as it bobs up and down like a downed aircraft lost in the East China Sea. Strewth! Then you've got the discombobulated and wigged out "Dark Alien Overture"...the less said about this track, the better! It's basically some kind of new-age jazzy razmataz worthy of being on the receiving end of the most rotten of tomatoes (and eggs). "War of the World" approaches the experimental and progressive disposition of the most recent Infernal Overdrive. Close but no cigar as it too turns in circles without rhyme or reason. Lastly, you've got 'Starman's Son", which isn't a bad song, per se; it's googling bass line and neat little bouzouki fills (yes you heard me right! - look it up, as I'm running out of space and time here!) sprinkle a little spice into the album's already oh-so-orotund mix but really, if I wanted such musical thaumaturgy, I'll be the first to let you know! To be fair, said closer does pick up a bit towards the end thanks to its upbeat tempo and twizzling leads.

When all said and done, White Wizzard's Flying Tigers constitutes a somewhat skip-able release in the Californians' otherwise respectable discography, despite a few fair to good tracks in "West L.A. Nights", "Flying Tigers" proper and, (fine!) "Starman's Son". As conveyed, "Night Train to Tokyo" also makes for a gratifying listen here and then. If you're new to the band, I highly suggest you give it's introductory EP, High Speed GTO, and debut, Over the Top (both from 2010) obligatory spins as you won't be disappointed. While those constitute essential listening for any aspiring heavy metal "traditionalist", later releases are more of an acquired taste, but definitely superior to this here flop!