The Italian Wave of British Heavy Metal

 Over here in Italy there's a very good magazine called Classix Metal, that devotes itself to writing about 80s Heavy Metal of all shades. It's essentially a well-produced fanzine (which is surely the only way to describe a publication that has a nine page Raven retrospective or an article on Mausoleum Records). Still, it's all the better for it, meaning that it's enthusiastic about its subject matter and doesn't take itself too seriously.

In a recent issue there was an article that traced the history of Heavy Metal in Italy. This was interesting to me, as I don't normally associate sunny, Mediterranean countries with Heavy Metal (I'm trying to think of what could be the Italian version of Birmingham - Turin? Not quite the same).

One thing that struck me was that a lot of the Italian bands had names that would make the UKIP proud: Gunfire, Spitfire, Royal Air Force, Steel Crown and my personal favourite - Drunkards. It's an often overlooked fact how NWOBHM bands promoted British culture abroad - well, if you can call wearing a sleeveless Union Jack shirt promoting culture. Nonetheless, the net effect was that in the 80s, there were a raft of European Metal Bands being formed who had names straight out of the Warlord or Victor comics.

Having said all that, the band that really made an impression were the tastefully-named Death SS. The band were active from the late 70s until the late 80s and seem to have been a cross between Alice Cooper, Kiss and Scooby Doo Where Are You? You can see a picture of them from 1980 below (I scanned it directly from the magazine as I didn't fancy putting "Death SS picture" into Google).

And in case you're wondering - and I know you are - the Mummy played bass.

Still, everybody needs to move with the times (even a band with songs called Zombie Terror and Black Mummy), and as the 80s progressed Death SS, like so many other bands, weren't immune to the increasing popularity of Hair Metal. Look at the photo below from 1988.

Def Leppard meets the Wolf Man! Even the Mummy had a soft perm. The faun seems to have turned into a badger, too.

10 Random Thoughts on "Heavy Metal Britannia"

1. All that "proto-metal" stuff with Blue Cheer, Cream and the Edgar Broughton Band etc didn't really convince and took up too much time. Metal is about more than just hitting the instruments hard, and as good as those bands were, I'm listening to the first Black Sabbath album as I write this, and none of these bands really anticipate or predict it. It all starts here.

2. Rob Halford seems a decent bloke.

3. Hasn't Brian Tatler off of Diamond Head aged badly? And since when were Diamond Head as important as Saxon and Iron Maiden?

4. Deep Purple's music hasn't aged too well. And they weren't really metal. Well, maybe "Speed King"

5. Burke Shelley is a bit of an arse

6. Bill Ward has a hell of a boozer's nose. But he seems a lovely man.

7. Judas Priest's influence is overlooked. If you look at the NWOBHM bands, their sound can be traced back to Black Sabbath - but they sound more like Judas Priest.

8. Most Heavy Metal musicians aren't very articulate when it comes to defining Heavy Metal: "It's kind of .. you know, heavy"

9. Mick Box's interesting "ear flaps" theory that bands were protected from the noise from the amplifiers because ears "face forward" is an interesting one, but may not stand up to rigorous scientific examination.

10. "Symptom of the Universe" was a perfect choice for the song over the credits. Be honest.

Backpatchphilia

The photo above is of the audience at a concert by The Rods back in 1982. I think it captures being a Metal fan at that time perfectly. Everything is in attendance: the Wrangler (never Levi as I recall) denim jackets (sleeves optional), the dank brown hair a bit longer than the fashion at the time but not too long to get into trouble at school/work, the biker jacket and the wispy moustaches. It's a more innocent time, a time when Then Rods could leave people open-mouthed (or at least slack-jawed). And, naturally, there's the patches.

If I had an ounce of creativity or entrepreneurship, I would call up on of those Art Book publishers like Taschen with a proposal for a coffee table book called The Art of the Heavy Metal Back Patch. All of the classics of the genre would be there of course: the Judas Priest Razor Blade, the Motorhead Snaggletooth (or whatever it's called), the AC/DC cannon, the Number of the Beast album cover (surely an album cover that was designed to look good on a Backpatch on a denim jacket). I'm sure the book would sell more than you might think.

The one limitation about the different patches was that your selection was relatively limited, and you needed to rely on what was popular and being produced at the time. If you wanted to express your loyalty to someone who was a bit more obscure you needed to resort to your own art skills. Which is why my follow-up book would be Heavy Metal Art on School Jotters 1979 - 1985. I'm sure the lofts of Britain contain some excellent examples of school jotters containing fascinating interpretations of the Kiss Destroyer album cover done with felt pens or the words Black and Sabbath arranged in an upside-down cross that made the English teacher go ballistic. Apart from anything else, the actual act of trying to cover your school books with art gave you an idea on the exact level of your artistic abilities; I'm sure quite a few people realised that a career in illustration would be beyond them as they struggled with the horse while trying to do the Stormbringer cover.

Solid Ball of Pewter

Anyone remember these? Jewelery for headbangers was a fairly specialist industry back in the day. Usually this meant skin-rashing pendants made of pewter (whatever pewter is, I can't find it anywhere in the precious metals section of the periodic table), but the ones above were actually made of silver. Bet that Magnum one sold like hot cakes.

Kerrang! Penpals Konfidential

I don't suppose anyone has penpals any more, and it's just another word heading for obsolescence thanks to the internet. After all, if you can do things like connect with people in real time via MSN Messenger and Facebook, or post comments on their infrequently-updated blogs, would you really feel the need to spend your time writing frightening verse to a buck-toothed girl in Luxembourg?

Back in the 80s of course, it was all different. As it was difficult to post pictures of yourself drunk online via a Spectrum 48K, people had to write letters to each other, and if you were looking for people with similar interests to yourself to add to your burgeoning Social Network, then there were few better places to look than the Penpals! page in Kerrang! This page became one of the surprise hits of the early magazine as the sheer numbers of people wanting to advertise themselves in the Klassifieds section became too large that they eventually decided to make it a free service and dedicate an entire page to it.

Reading through some old issues from 1982, you quickly see that there was a basic format for each entry, along the lines of

Male Headbanger 18, into Maiden, Sabbath, AC/DC and Motorhead, looking to write to female headbangers aged 17 -23. If interested, please drop a line with photo to "Mad" Phil Rocker, 22 Acacia Ave, Bury, Lancs.

Of course this was just the basic format and as with all courtship rituals, the one who could stand out from the crowd was guaranteed the most suitors. One way you could do this was to list an act or two among your faves who were not among the most commonly-mentioned bands. You had to be careful here, though as "Yes, Eloy and Magnum" tended to conjure up images of bedroom walls covered with Roger Dean posters, while "The Rods, Dumpy's Rusty Nuts and Anvil" promised nights out drinking Woodpecker cider at the local biker bar. Neither of which boded too well for attracting chicks. If this strategy failed, another way was to pluck up the courage to post a picture of yourself staring seriously into the camera of the photo booth at the Train station.

One thing you notice reading through the entries is how many of the folk suffered from the "only headbanger in the village" syndrome, evident as you read things like "Lonely HM Freak" and "Wales is crap for what I call decent long-haired blokes". The last one seems to suggest that Wales was ok for indecent long-haired blokes. Which sounds about right, to be honest.