Artist: Viron
Label: Metal Heaven
Release: 2008
Rating: 3.5/5
“Ferrum Gravis”, or “heavy iron”, the second album from German metallers Viron, is a needle in a haystack these days. Where on earth did these guys come from? They play “heavy metal” in its primordial form, the developmental variety from which the other branches of the genre soon sprouted. Even the title of Viron’s debut, “N.W.O.G.H.M”, was a “suspiciously old school” hint, never mind the actual content.
It’s an amazing feeling to pop an album like this into the CD player. Never mind how old-fashioned and clichéd it is, it sounds fresh and inspired, and the feeling that you’re listening to something “different” or “new” doesn’t go away either. Incredible how much your feelings can fool you. What you’re hearing is old and gnawed down to the bone. But it ignites!
Viron are basically reviving inventions from the early eighties. Everything is played with far more aggression than it would have been 25 years ago, and a few rungs higher on the technical ladder. The production is “old school”, with a lot of control over the guitar riffing, which strips away a bit of its raw reality. That’s why the bass line breaks through to the front and fills the gap with melody. The guitars are harmonized to the max. Wherever possible they escape into ultra-melodic, dramatic triplet turns and “torn-up” riffs. Viron make generous use of the double bass pedal, which isn’t exactly “old school”, and where it meets riff shredding built around a cheeky half-step turn, or gang shouts in the choruses (Liberator, Playground For Billions), it sounds almost like bare-bones American “old school speed metal”. Still, the feel for building dramatic triplets is excellent and strongly present, so the Teutonic German roots are impossible to miss. Above all, what tips the scales in favor of this being a European band is the melodic vocal, deliberately obscure but far less doomy and venomous than the antiquarian shop of the likes of Helstar, Fates Warning or even Forbidden, meaning it sits squarely in classic melodic waters. There’s a touch of Klaus Meine (Scorpions) in it, Rob Halford (Judas Priest) in the high extremes, and on the album’s only ballad, War, an extraordinary sensitivity comes through, driven by a completely changed vocal approach that comes dangerously close to Hansi Kursch (Blind Guardian). So with Viron the epic charge is front and center, without the overkill of Europe’s “power metal” bands.
The band has a knack for writing catchy chorus melodies that get the listener moving right away. Liberator is a great killer of an opener, but the follow-up is even more surprising: On The Run, whose chorus packs one of the most typical “old school” stunts of pomp and doomy drama, the kind that gave the New Wave of British Heavy Metal its distinctive trademark almost 30 years ago. The acoustic interlude in the middle, with its calm vocal and the vibrato added to it, even sketches out a path toward the European/American alliance of Demons & Wizards. The big plus is that, despite the predictability and the use of well-chewed formulas, Viron find room for a witty interplay of lead riffs, jerky, flowing motifs, and a harmonious seasoning of instrumental middle sections adorned with perfectly shredded solos and a variety of moods, so that “Ferrum Gravis” carries a high degree of dynamics, authenticity and, with it, appeal. The closing track Sniper, an epic of almost 12 minutes, is something special too: a modern-day attempt to follow in the footsteps of Rime of the Ancient Mariner (Iron Maiden), but in Viron’s hands.
“Ferrum Gravis” feels more varied than the otherwise excellent debut “N.W.O.G.H.M.”, and with it Viron are widening their musical reach, digging into the roots of heavy metal’s golden age.
Lineup
Alex Stahl – vocals
Thilo Feucht – guitar
Roger Dequis – guitar
Ingmar “Inge” Holzhauer – bass
Andreas “Neudi” Neuderth – drums
Track list
1. Liberator (5:53)
2. On The Run (5:40)
3. The Isle Of Man (6:29)
4. War (4:34)
5. Beyond The Gates (4:48)
6. Metal Ball (6:17)
7. Playground For Billions (6:45)
8. Led Astray (5:08)
9. Sniper (11:40)
