This week In ‘Hard & Metal Throwback’ 03/52

AC/DC, Whitesnake, Deep Purple, Van Halen, Iron Maiden, Faith No More, Korn, Kiss, Ozzy Osbourne, Deftones, Guns N’ Roses, Metallica

They are the ‘Hard . Metal Throwback’ artists selected among the 308 Posts we publish this week.

Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!

WATCH IN FULL

YouTube player

AUDIO ONLY

Tracklist

1 . AC/DC . That’s The Way . Wanna Rock ‘N’ Roll

Released in 1988 as part of AC/DC’s “Blow Up Your Video” album, *That’s the Way I Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll* snaps you back to the band’s no-frills, guitar-driven hard rock roots.

It’s a fast-paced number with a defiant swagger, as if the band is simultaneously giving you a show and reminding new pretenders who’s really in charge.

The track features relentless riffing from Angus Young and Malcolm Young, propelling the song forward like a runaway freight train, while Brian Johnson’s raspy vocal delivery brims with raw energy.

Produced by Harry Vanda and George Young, longtime collaborators responsible for shaping the band’s early sound, the track feels like a conscious move to reclaim the unpolished vigor of their earlier days.

The music video, shot at Birmingham’s National Exhibition Centre, doubles as a love letter to their famously rowdy fans—complete with red cardboard Gibson SG guitars held aloft in homage to Angus himself.

Chart performance for the single landed respectably across regions, with peaks of 22 in the UK and 28 on the US Billboard Mainstream Rock chart, though these ranks don’t quite match the impact the song leaves in live performances.

The song also carries a certain old-school charm when heard live, featured on their critically recognized double album “Live: 2 CD Collector’s Edition.”

Lyrically, it doesn’t bother with subtlety—the message is blunt and celebratory, declaring allegiance to rock ’n’ roll in a way only AC/DC can deliver without veering into parody.

Its unapologetic simplicity is both its greatest strength and an artistic limitation, depending on your appetite for the band’s single-minded devotion to their electric sound.

The crisp production avoids the muddiness other late-’80s rock acts often fell into, keeping the edges sharp and the volume cranked unapologetically high.

While not as iconic as earlier classics like *Back in Black* or *Highway to Hell,* the track is a snapshot of AC/DC sticking to what they know best: riff-fueled anthems designed to make stadiums explode.


Lifted from : AC/DC release their tenth album . ‘Blow Up Your Video’ featuring ‘Heatseeker’ (1987)

2 . Whitesnake . Slide It In

Whitesnake’s “Slide It In” steps into the mid-’80s with a swagger that mutates their blues-hard rock roots into something flashier, coated with a gloss of glam metal sheen.

The album straddles two markets—its European mix, criticized for sounding as flat as day-old cola, was overhauled for the U.S. with Keith Olsen at the helm, while John Sykes and Neil Murray laid down fresh guitar and bass lines to flex harder in America’s arena rock scene.

“Love Ain’t No Stranger” floats in with enough melodrama to feature on a mixtape for your high school crush, while “Slow an’ Easy” balances sultry grooves and guttural riffs, striking a perfect bawdy note for smoky bars and overpriced leather jackets.

Whether it’s the punchy earnestness of “Guilty of Love” or the radio-chasing “Give Me More Time,” the tracks don’t shy away from their ambition to commandeer both MTV’s playlists and hair metal’s burgeoning fanatics.

With double-platinum credentials and a track record of six million sales worldwide, the album reaffirms its ability to serve as a gateway for the band’s evolution while fondly flipping a page on their grittier, earlier lineage. Ironically, it marks the final outing of their iconic “snake” logo, as though Whitesnake itself is shedding its old skin for a shinier version of success.


Lifted from : Whitesnake rock In Rio . day . (1985)

3 . Deep Purple . Mary Long

“Mary Long,” the second track from Deep Purple’s 1973 album *Who Do We Think We Are,* delivers biting commentary shrouded in a hard rock package.

The lyrics target a sanctimonious figure, allegedly standing for a blend of British societal hypocrisy rather than any single individual.

The track straddles irony and indignation, showcasing Ian Gillan’s sardonic vocal delivery alongside Ritchie Blackmore’s uncompromising guitar riffs.

Jon Lord’s organ adds a subtle theatrical flair, propping up the satirical undertone without overshadowing the core message.

By dialing up the wit, the band questions the moral double standards of cultural figures who loudly chastise behaviors they secretly indulge in.

The track inadvertently sets the mood for an album released during a turbulent period in the band’s history, as internal conflicts loomed heavily.

Commercially, “Mary Long” stayed in the shadows, overshadowed by the album’s broader appeal yet standing as a quirky piece of narrative-driven rock defiance.


Lifted from : Deep Purple release their seventh album . ‘Who Do We Think We Are’ featuring ‘Woman from Tokyo’ (1973)

4 . Van Halen . Beer Drinkers . Hell Raisers

Van Halen’s rendition of “Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers” captures a raucous energy that showcases the band’s reverence for ZZ Top without slipping into mere mimicry.

Originally a standout from ZZ Top’s *Tres Hombres* (1973), the song embodies a gritty, blues-infused swagger that fits Van Halen’s early days playing smoky Los Angeles clubs.

Their version infuses the earthy precision of the original with an unpolished hard rock edge, marked by Eddie Van Halen’s fiery guitar flourishes and raw inventiveness.

The playful vocal interplay between David Lee Roth and Michael Anthony mirrors ZZ Top’s dual vocal strategy, maintaining the track’s bawdy charm while amplifying its volume.

Rather than attempting to reinvent the song, Van Halen leans into its boozy, foot-stomping spirit, making it feel more like a backyard party anthem than a stage-polished performance.

In revisiting a ZZ Top classic, Van Halen demonstrates how great covers can straddle homage and reinvention without losing the fun in translation.


Lifted from : Van Halen rock in São Paulo (1983)

5 . Iron Maiden . Wrathchild

Iron Maiden’s ‘Wrathchild’ stomps in as an unrelenting burst of energy from their 1981 album *Killers,* showcasing the band’s raw, early punk-metal hybrid.

It’s all about adrenaline here—Steve Harris’s wicked bass intro drives the song like a shot of pure caffeine, while the twin guitars wail and snarl in a race to the finish line.

Paul Di’Anno’s sneering, rebellious vocals are delivered with a gritty edge, fitting the “wrathful” theme like a fist in a leather glove.

If anything, the track feels concise to a fault, clocking in under three minutes, yet it wastes no time leaving its mark.

The gang’s then-lean, mean aesthetic trades polish for aggression, and it works; you can almost hear the sticky pub floors beneath the amps.

Live renditions of this song are practically a rite of passage for Iron Maiden; it’s as if ‘Wrathchild’ demands existence in a sweat-soaked, beer-fueled crowd.

The music video leans heavily on concert footage—perhaps unsurprising, given how central their performances are to the band’s identity.

One could argue the song’s appeal lies more in its attitude than its technical wizardry, but isn’t that part of the charm?

While Iron Maiden’s sound evolves drastically in later albums, this track remains a snapshot of their feral early years, cementing it as a live staple even decades on.

Yes, Eddie is there too—and if you don’t know who Eddie is, you’re missing half the fun.


Lifted from : Iron Maiden rock in Rio III (2001)

6 . Faith No More . The Crab Song

“The Crab Song” by Faith No More combines chaos and control, showcasing the band’s eclectic method of merging genres long before it became trendy. This track, from their 1987 release *Introduce Yourself*, shifts between sharp-edged metal riffs, groovy funk rhythms, and a melodic melancholy that betrays its otherwise aggressively experimental nature.

Chuck Mosley’s vocal style straddles the line between defiance and despair, alternating between rap-like delivery and husky crooning. He’s more storyteller than singer here—a quality that gives the song a raw, unfiltered intimacy, even amid its larger-than-life arrangements. The band’s chemistry is most noticeable in Jim Martin’s distorted guitar lines, which cut through the intricate bass and drum grooves like jagged knife strokes over a tribal canvas.

The track’s structure itself is unpredictable. It shifts from a slow, funk-inspired drawl into an unrestrained metal outburst, followed by segments that feel like fragments of entirely different songs stitched together—but never awkwardly. This restless shape mirrors its lyrics, which seem equally introspective and accusatory, hinting at disillusionment and frustration.

Faith No More’s musical identity on *Introduce Yourself* is hard to pin down, but it refuses to blend into the background as college rock or straightforward hard rock. If anything, “The Crab Song” captures the liminal identity of a band that thrives on contradictions—both confident and self-aware but also willing to embrace the chaos of their ambition. Decades later, the track still murmurs beneath the heavier catalog of nu-metal it helped trigger, like a submerged current many listeners weren’t even aware existed.


Lifted from : Faith No More rock in Rio II (1991)

7 . Korn . Did My Time

“Did My Time” is Korn’s brooding collaboration with *Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life*, though its placement in the film feels more like an afterthought than a true marriage of mediums.

The track channels the band’s signature nu-metal grit, with James “Munky” Shaffer’s riff born from a leftover concept during the *Untouchables* sessions in 2002. It’s like finding loose change under the couch cushions—unexpectedly useful but not groundbreaking.

Released as a single in 2003 and later folded into their album *Take a Look in the Mirror*, it clings to Korn’s reliable formula of existential anguish wrapped in metallic aggression. The song’s conspicuous absence from the official movie soundtrack due to contractual hassles only underscores the awkwardness of its cinematic tie-in.

Still, “Did My Time” holds its weight on the charts, teasing a fleeting Hot 100 moment for Korn at 38 and earning a Grammy nod, only to lose to Metallica’s polarizing “St. Anger.”

The music video, directed by Dave Meyers, intertwines Korn’s brooding aesthetic with Angelina Jolie’s star power. It’s less a harmonious collaboration and more a marketing handshake. By 2019, the track had earned its live-performance stripes, second only to one other track on the album for most stage appearances, but it never sheds its “middle child” aura within Korn’s discography.


Lifted from : Korn At Their Best

8 . Kiss . Heaven’s On Fire

KISS’s “Heaven’s On Fire” bursts forth from their 1984 album, *Animalize*, channeling the strut and swagger that glam metal fans couldn’t resist at the time.

Powered by Paul Stanley’s unmistakable vocal flair and Mark St. John’s flashy guitar work, the track captures the band’s larger-than-life persona without veering into unnecessary overindulgence.

The music video, drenched in the band’s signature theatrics, stitches together high-energy stage performances and offstage glimpses of the group reveling in their hedonistic image.

Despite its moderate charting—peaking at #49 in the U.S. and #43 in the U.K.—the song cemented itself as a concert staple, reliably igniting live audiences with its infectious, fist-pumping chorus.

The song’s lean runtime ensures it doesn’t overstay its welcome, opting instead to capture a pure adrenaline rush before leaving the listener wanting more.

In hindsight, “Heaven’s On Fire” might not have set the charts ablaze, but it remains a quintessential slice of mid-’80s KISS—a snapshot of a band audaciously keeping the fire alive amidst evolving musical landscapes.


Lifted from : Kiss At Their Best

9 . Ozzy Osbourne . Crazy Train

Crazy Train crashes into the airwaves with the unmistakable swagger of Ozzy Osbourne’s debut solo venture in 1980, propped up by Randy Rhoads’ relentless guitar riffs that feel like a high-octane sprint through chaos.

The song’s title pulls from Rhoads’ creeping, chugging guitar effect and Ozzy’s offhand cry of “You’re off the rails!”—a phrase that now feels like an apt precursor to its melodic bedlam.

Rhoads flexes his mastery through layered guitar overdubs, delivering a solo that scratches at brilliance without veering into indulgence, threading harmony through an aggressive structure flipping between A major and F# minor keys.

Lyrically, Osbourne channels the unease of a Cold War-drenched zeitgeist, with lines like “Heirs of a cold war / That’s what we’ve become” offering a grim snapshot of the era’s collective paranoia.

The song tiptoes between defiance and self-reflection while staying tethered to its hard rock roots—its legacy becoming bittersweet after Rhoads’ tragic death in 1982.

Decades later, Crazy Train refuses to be just a nostalgic relic, not resting on its laurels but carving a space as a defining track of its time, capped off in 2020 by a bizarrely charming animated video on YouTube.


Lifted from : Ozzy Osbourne rocks Rio . day . (1985)

10 . Deftones . Engine Nº9

“Engine No. 9” from Deftones’ 1995 debut “Adrenaline” captures the raw ferocity of their formative years.

The track lashes out with a relentless barrage of abrasive riffs and pulsating rhythms, reflecting the unpolished yet captivating energy that defined the band’s early sound.

Chino Moreno’s volatile vocal delivery, oscillating between unhinged screams and rhythmic rapping, channels both chaos and control in equal measure.

Meanwhile, Stephen Carpenter’s guitar work churns out thick, serrated riffs, guided by Chi Cheng’s basslines that feel more like a structural onslaught than foundation, held steady by Abe Cunningham’s precise yet thunderous drumming.

Among the standout lyrics, “wipe lyrical did” feels like a verbal trigger—abstract yet confrontational.

The song’s unapologetically aggressive delivery found its footing in live sets, igniting audiences with its carnal intensity despite its absence from conventional airwaves and charts.

This early gem doesn’t bask in mainstream accolades but thrives in the visceral, underground culture it was born into.

Deftones take a sledgehammer to genre boundaries, throwing nu-metal and alt-metal conventions into a blender and creating a sound that’s as unsettling as it is intriguing.


Lifted from : Deftones rock In Rio III (2001)

11 . Guns N’ Roses . Civil War

“Civil War” by Guns N’ Roses is neither a rallying cry nor a comforting plea; it’s an unapologetic punch to the gut that questions humanity’s cyclical obsession with conflict.

Starting from its haunting quote from *Cool Hand Luke*, the song establishes its disillusionment with authority and control, layering samples and melodies with surgical precision.

Slash sets the tone with a resonating acoustic riff, heralding the song’s gradual escalation into the band’s signature hard rock explosion — it’s restrained yet ferocious, like a storm patiently building strength.

The lyrics, penned by Axl Rose alongside Slash and Duff McKagan, cut deep, referencing assassinations and civil rights unrest with a poet’s cynicism and a historian’s clarity.

Rose doesn’t preach as much as he lashes out; “What’s so civil about war anyway?” feels less like a question and more like a dagger thrown into the listener’s lap.

Adding snippets of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” ties the song to America’s past, though the universal critique ensures its relevance beyond borders or decades.

Historically, “Civil War” takes on added significance as drummer Steven Adler’s final contribution before the band swapped him for Matt Sorum, marking the end of an era.

This tracks through Guns N’ Roses’ layered identity—part angry street poet, part bewildered citizen—and it remains as unsettling as it is sonically gripping.


Lifted from : Guns N’ Roses rock Rio (2001)

12 . Metallica . Sad But True

“Sad But True,” from Metallica’s 1991 “Black Album,” offers a seismic shift from their earlier thrash metal blitzes, opting instead for a lethargically thunderous groove that feels like tectonic plates grinding together.

The song’s riff, tuned down to an unsettling drop D, slams with the weight of a falling anvil—brutal, repetitive, and hypnotic, like a mantra chanted by villains plotting their next chaotic masterpiece.

When factoring in the lyrics, it morphs into a sinister exploration of dependency, possession, and symbiosis, delivered with James Hetfield’s gravel-coated growl, a voice equal parts confession and coercion.

Its music video isn’t interested in narrative frills, choosing instead to present the band in stark, almost brutish realism: sweat-soaked and unrelenting, like a coal furnace running on overdrive during a bleak industrial winter.

While it peaked at number 20 on the UK Official Singles Chart, the cultural weight “Sad But True” carries eclipses such sterile metrics; it’s a song that feels alive during the band’s live sets, where it morphs into an auditory wrecking ball that’s pulverized over 1,600 stages worldwide.

Its cultural inertia has drawn covers from disparate corners of music, including Snoop Dogg’s genre-bending performance during MTV’s Metallica tribute, proving the song’s gravitational pull reaches beyond its immediate heavy metal orbit.

Detractors might call it repetitive or nihilistic; devotees argue that its bone-rattling simplicity is precisely the point—there’s no need for complexity when carnage gets the job done.

In a Metallica catalog filled with both sprawling epics and breakneck barn-burners, “Sad But True” stands as a mid-tempo colossus—unyielding, primal, and, depending on your mood, either existentially troubling or just plain badass.


Lifted from : Metallica serenade Shanghai (2017)

For THE FULL HARD . METAL THROWBACK COLLECTION click here

This week Top 20 New Music on RVM *

(*) According to our own statistics, upadted on February 9, 2025

Comments are closed.