The Albums of 2022

1. Sakis Tolis – Among the Fires of Hell

I’m not sure why Sakis chose to release Among the Fires of Hell as a solo album rather than a Rotting Christ release. The moniker doesn’t matter, though – it’s the music that counts. Sonically and thematically, the material on AtFoH is just like latter-day Rotting Christ – the walls of riffage are there in force, as is Sakis’s distinctive growl, monk-like chanted backing vocals, and numinous lyrics. From the spoken words that kick off opening track My Salvation to the closing refrains of final song Nocturnal Hecate (a cover of the Daemonia Nymphe track), this album is pure atmospheric perfection. During his career with Rotting Christ, Sakis pioneered and honed his own sonic blueprint, which is all over this solo release. For an exhilarating example, listen to the track I Name You Under Our Cult, which is a masterclass in metal. When the chorus arrives with its sublime cascading layers of guitar and Sakis roaring, “Apollyon… release the fire,” the emotional impact is stunning. Total mastery of metal composition, execution and atmospherics. Immaculate.

2. Orphans of the Ash – Ellipsis

Since my first metal gig as a primary-school kid (Iron Maiden at Glasgow Apollo), I’ve seen thousands of guitarists playing live. Most of them were impressive, some jaw-droppingly so (Vai, Malmsteen, Satriani, Gilbert, Van Halen, Skolnick, and many others). The most impressive of all was Zal Cleminson. Still is. No one else can do what he can do with a guitar. There are plenty of guitar maestros, but Zal is the guitar wizard. This fact is well known by fans of The Sensational Alex Harvey Band. One only has to play the SAHB discography (preferably on vinyl) on a quality hi-fi system to hear guitar sounds so unique, so inspired, so tasteful, so rich in nuance and melodic genius, that the listener is forever changed for the better. (Zal’s guitar work didn’t exist alone in those grooves, of course – there was a beautiful musical synergy between him and his bandmates Alex, Chris, Ted and Hugh.) I’ve been lucky enough to see Zal play live a bunch of times, both with SAHB and also with his Zal Cleminson’s Sin’Dogs project. It’s always a transcendent experience. In a live setting he does the impossible: makes perfect songs sound even more so. How can he do this? How is it even possible? It shouldn’t be. But as I said, Zal’s a wizard. So I was excited to hear about his Orphans of the Ash project. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but I knew it would be special. It is. Ellipsis is a barnstormer of an album – fearlessly creative, expressive and cathartic. Once again (as he did with Sin’Dogs), Zal proves that in addition to his renowned fretboard abilities, he’s also a ferociously effective frontman. The album’s opening track, Evolution Road, might be the best example of this: I got chills – actual shivers of awe – when I heard Zal roar, “My fingertips, my Holy Fire!” A lyrical tip o’ the hat to the much-missed Alex Harvey, whose Faith Healer imagery is seared into the soul of every SAHB fan. (“The fingertips of Holy Fire, everlasting sweet desire.”) Evolution Road starts out with some of the most sublime acoustic guitar ever recorded, accompanied by a heartfelt vocal delivery, then at 1:28 a cataclysmically heavy riff arrives, to stunning effect. That guitar sound is heavy. As in, weights-made-of-lead heavy (couldn’t resist a SAHB pun). As always with Zal, when he goes heavy it’s never done just for the sake of heaviness. There’s always a bigger picture, an overarching melody… a vision. And as always, every note, every tone, every nuance is just right. The album isn’t a one-man show, though. The chemistry between Zal and collaborator Billy McGonagle is amazing. This isn’t the first time the two of them have played in a musical outfit together. Billy was also in Zal Cleminson’s Sin’Dogs. (Before that, he was in a SAHB tribute band, The Sensational Alex Harvey Experience, in which he played the role of Zal. Surreal or what? Billy must be in hog Heaven now that he’s recording as a duo with the real Zal Cleminson.) I could pontificate about the immaculate sounds of Ellipsis until the cows come home. It’s a work of genius.

Serendipity is a strange thing. A couple of weeks before the release of Ellipsis, I had been listening to Led Zeppelin (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and also listening to The Sensational Alex Harvey Band (as every decent human being should at least once a day). Alex’s words and imagery were swirling around in my mind (those fingertips of Holy Fire), as was the Zep fallen/falling angel icon from their Swan Song record label. I set about creating an artwork that combined the two: a 3D-rendered digital model with pose and overall vibe based on the Zep icon, but with a SAHBish revision – the angel’s right hand sported fingertips of Holy Fire. (That wasn’t the only revision I made to the original blueprint: I also put a pair of half black/half tartan trousers on the angel (based on a pair I own), made his physique more muscular (think Macho Man Randy Savage circa 1990), put the Gáe Bulg (Cúchulainn’s spear from Celtic mythology) in his left hand, and made his wings out of coruscating blue fire.) Then the Ellipsis album plopped through my letterbox, I played it for the first time and stood stunned as Zal roared, “My fingertips, my Holy Fire!” Awesome.

Here’s a few pictures of me and Zal in Edinburgh. If you look really closely you might be able to see some Holy Fire emerging from those Cleminson fingertips. Even if you can’t, it’s there. (Thanks to my friend Fraser – another beardy guitarist – for taking the pictures.)

3. Amorphis – Halo

My equal-favourite band in the Universe. The journey of these Finnish masters parallels that of the above-mentioned Sakis and Rotting Christ in many ways. The timeframe is the same, with Sakis founding Rotting Christ in 1987, and Amorphis kicking off in 1990. Both Rotting Christ and Amorphis have kept up a tireless work rate in the studio and on the road. Much growth occurred along the way: musical, lyrical and spiritual. This can be heard in the music; felt in it too. What Sakis did to put Greek metal on the world map, Amorphis did to place Finnish metal there. The groundwork Amorphis laid down in Finland played an influential role in what followed: the culture embraced that style of music to such a degree, Finland now contains more metal musicians per square mile than any other country does. By far. Metal’s spiritual home may be Aston, Birmingham, England (where four icons known as Ozzy, Tony, Geezer and Bill gave birth to previously unheard and unimagined sounds in 1968), but Finland is now metal’s main breeding ground. Has been for the past couple of decades. Enough history, though. What about the present? What about Halo? Well, it’s another corker from Amorphis (that’s a highly technical musical term – corker, noun a thing so impressive that it causes jaws to drop, spines to tingle, body hairs to prick up, and souls to resonate). I mean, listen to the track The Moon at high volume on a quality sound system. If that doesn’t move you profoundly, you’re either dead inside or your soul needs an enema. I won’t yammer on at length about the rest of the album. It follows the same masterful Amorphis blueprint that the band has refined over three decades. As with much of the band’s previous music, there’s a strong folk influence, to the extent that some of the melodies come across a bit like metal incarnations of sea shanties with a Finnish folk flavour (i.e. dark, deep and atmospheric). A spellbinding record.

4. Solár – Atlas

This one really took me by surprise. Even before hearing a single note of Solár’s music, I was drawn to this record. The band’s name and the album title resonated with me, I found the cover art compelling (still do), one of the album’s tracks is named after the abstract artist Sam Francis, and in addition to all those things, some sixth sense was telling me to grab the record and dive into its sounds. As always, the animal instincts were right. I wouldn’t describe any of the tracks as songs. They don’t follow the usual “rules” or even “suggestions” that determine what constitutes a song. Atlas consists of six vast soundscapes, each unique, each mesmerising in its own ways (one of the tracks is even called Mesmer). Opener Nomad is 22 minutes and 8 seconds of staggering, echo-heavy sound that’s fearless, free and organic, like Pink Floyd’s more melodic moments from The Division Bell filtered through cold Swedish post-rock sensibilities then tweaked by a producer with an Alrakis obsession (not that there’s anything wrong with that – I have one of those obsessions). My favourite track on the album is Sam Francis, a beautiful example of how a piece of music can build and evolve as it progresses rather than just delivering verses, choruses and solos to some predetermined blueprint. The track starts with a sublime guitar refrain and Sam Francis himself talking of his “ways of seeing”. This segues into an instrumental jam phase (the musical type, not the strawberry stuff): a section whose repeating leitmotifs have a hypnotic effect on the listener. Then arrives a monumental riff, a thing of wonder, the sort of riff every other guitarist will listen to and say, “Fuck me sideways, I wish I’d come up with that.” Impressive isn’t a sufficient word to describe this track. It’s a masterpiece. A gesamtkunstwerk. From start to finish, Atlas is the sound of true artists creating music driven by passion, love and creative freedom. It’s there in every note, every nuance, every aspect. A joy to hear.

5. Saor – Origins

If Origins had contained material as inspired and groundbreaking as the track Children of the Mist (from the 2014 Saor album Aura), it would be sharing the 2022 top spot with Sakis. That’s how impressive Saor can be, when the conditions are right and the inspiration is there. The thing about recording a track so unfeasibly, ridiculously good is that every Saor track from that point on gets compared to the masterpiece… by me, anyway. Can’t help it. I’ve never been disappointed by any Saor release, though. I’m just always hoping for an album loaded with tracks of a Children of the Mist calibre. Some folk would say that’s an unrealistic thing to hope for – it’s like hoping for Black Sabbath to release a new album on which every track is as unique and groundbreaking as War Pigs, or for Deep Purple to do a new album loaded with songs as iconic as Child in Time, or for Led Zeppelin to create a new record containing nothing but tracks of a No Quarter quality. You get my point. But the thing about hoping is that it doesn’t have to be realistic. Realistic shit happens all the time. It’s the unrealistic stuff that has to be hoped for. Enough philosophy, though. To Origins. It’s an amazing album in its own right. The distinctive Saor sound is there throughout – a captivating blend of Thin Lizzyesque Celtic guitar melodies, much heavier black-metal influences, and indigenous folk flourishes that help to create a true Caledonian atmosphere. An Alba atmosphere! This is done so well that it always comes across as authentic, never as twee or contrived. Saor mainman Andy Marshall describes his music as, “Caledonian Metal from Scotland, inspired by history and nature.” That’s an accurate summation. The Nature influence has been evident in Saor’s music from the very beginning, and it’s a breath of fresh air in the genre. A Saor album is the musical equivalent of climbing the Aonach Eagach in Glencoe and then looking out across the glen while you stand in awe with the sky in your hair and the breeze on your face. If that sounds like your cup o’ tea, give this band a whirl. Your heid will never be the same again.

6. Mitch Murder – Selection 6

Sublime synthwave from the busiest man in the business. The Jarre and Tangerine Dream influences are evident (as they are in all electronica), there’s a strong Air influence too, and there’s even some jazz-fusion electro grooves à la Jan Hammer (especially his original Miami Vice soundtrack work). Selection 6 features fifteen slices of upbeat ’70s/’80s-style synth genius. It’s the musical equivalent of cruising along a California coastal road in a convertible with the top down, and not a care in the world other than soaking up some rays. Bliss. Check out the track Beach Interlude Redux for a prime example of this. Pure sonic sunshine.

7. Stratos Zero – Stratos Zero I 2012 – 2022

That Murder man again. Named after the original Lancia Stratos prototype (the Stratos Zero: a thing of beauty styled by Marcello Gandini), this band is a solo side-project of Mitch Murder, who describes SZ as a fusion of classic electro, techno, acid house and (mostly ’90s) electronica in general. Like all electronica, it owes a heavy debt to Jean-Michel Jarre, Tangerine Dream and Kraftwerk, the visionaries who paved the way for all subsequent electro acts. There’s also an unashamedly Depeche Mode sound (definitely a good thing) on a couple of tracks, and hints of Legion-era Mark Shreeve here and there (another good thing). There’s even a tripomatic Jam and Spoon influence on some tracks (yet another good thing!), most notably on Accelerator Control Network, which has as smooth and easy a vibe as you’ll find anywhere this side of Right in the Night. The album is an excellent blend of light and shade, joy and melancholy, established rhythmic blueprints and new synth textures. It’s challenging in parts, asking some questions of the listener rather than just going for the easy option (smooth synth) all the time. More enjoyable with each successive listen, it’s like a puzzle that takes a while to figure out but is worth the effort.

8. Saxon – Carpe Diem

I won’t call Saxon “the Barnsley Big Teasers” (again), because Biff will correct me (again) and say, “I’m not actually from Barnsley… I’m from Honley, which is fifteen miles up the road from Barnsley.” Except when he says it, it comes out like, “Eh oop, Rice lad, Oi aren’t from them thar parts, Oi be from oother parts oop the road from them thar parts.” Sorry, Biff. I couldn’t resist it. To the new album, though. Carpe Diem is quintessential Saxon. As always, the songs are masterfully crafted and immaculately executed. As always, the hooks are huge, the choruses anthemic. As always, the tracks feature some of the most impressive twin-guitar work in the known Universe. And as always, the vocals are utterly inimitable; no one else sings like Biff. (In my novel Metallic Dreams the young Spark MacDubh describes his first experience of Saxon thus: “I was ten when I heard the music that ended the first phase of my life and launched me towards a new horizon at the speed of sound. Drenched to the skin, I stood on Dunoon’s pier peering out to sea through sheets of rain, looking for the ferry that would take me home. There on the everwet west coast of Scotland I heard it: electrified powerchords slicing through the dreich weather. My body hairs pricked up like antennae. To my young ears these amplified guitars sounded angelic, for surely no man-made instrument could produce that tone. The singer couldn’t be human. His voice was too clean, too pure, too resonant, as though a robot larynx were piping words through vocal chords of polished silver. The overall effect was intoxicating – a storm of drums, earthquake bass, razor-sharp guitar riffs, and soaring vocals of astonishing clarity. I knew that I was hearing the future.” – excerpt from the chapter titled Heavy Metal Thunder). That description still fits Saxon perfectly. The young MacDubh was describing Princess of the Night (autobiographically, for I had that exact experience) from the iconic album Denim and Leather, but the 2022 incarnation of Saxon sounds just as fresh, energetic and inspired as the early version of the band did all those years ago. A testament to the band’s influence is this: I’ve met a lot of metal musicians – thousands – with widely ranging tastes and opinions, but not even one of them has ever had anything negative to say about Saxon. Among metallic peers, this is the most universally loved and respected band. Carpe Diem is a reminder of why this is the case.

9. Isafjørd – Hjartastjaki

Sólstafir has long been one of my favourite bands. (The 2015 album Berdreyminn is one of the most perfect things ever recorded. The other stuff’s impressive, but Berdreyminn is immaculate.) The recently formed Isafjørd project features Sólstafir founder Aðalbjörn “Addi” Tryggvason and occasional Sólstafir touring member Ragnar Sólberg Rafnsson. The duo’s resulting Hjartastjaki album is a supremely listenable and atmospheric piece of work. Sonically, the Sólstafir influence is the most evident one, but there are others too: some of the more delicate melodies remind me of Atti’s (and Ragnar’s) fellow Icelandic visionaries Sigur Rós. The blend of melancholy and optimism is there, as are the light and shade. Atmospherics in spades. Hjartastjaki was recorded in Norway, where Ragnar lives. Thank you to my fellow Scottish author (and major birder) Peter Carroll for drawing my attention to this album a couple of weeks after its release.

10. Soul Dissolution – SORA

The front cover is straight from the Bathory school of album art. A Naturescape so magnificent, mysterious and atmospheric that one can sense the old gods just out of sight behind the scenes, waiting, watching, preparing for their return. Belgian band Soul Dissolution was a welcome new discovery for me in 2022. SORA impressed me so much that I went straight out and got the rest of the band’s discography (by “went straight out” I actually mean “sat on my arse in my office and ordered online”… but old habits die hard… and it sounds better to say “I ran straight out and got”, which is how I used to do things as a kid… I’d hear a tune for the first time on Tommy Vance’s Friday Rock Show, then the very next morning I would run 2 miles to my local Impulse Records shop to buy the chunk of vinyl whose grooves had so impressed me on the radio the night before). So anyway, SORA impressed me so much that I remained sitting on my arse in my comfy swivel chair, moved my right index finger almost imperceptibly in order to click a mouse a few times, and downloaded Soul Dissolution’s discography in lossless digital format. Doesn’t sound even remotely impressive when I put it like that. Where’s the epicness? Where’s the running for miles through the ice and snow, like I used to have to do to get records? Where’s the sweat and the blood and the guts? Where’s the sense of expectation and ritual? Where’s the pain and sacrifice? Even though I didn’t have to don my battle jacket covered in studs and patches, wrap a bullet belt round it, then brave winter storms, fighting off rampaging neds and assorted other nutjobs along the way, in order to get to a physical record shop and buy SORA, I would happily have done so if that had been an option. That’s the way I used to do things. But Impulse Records is long gone along with all the other local record stores. (A bookies now exists in the space where Impulse used to be. That’s regress, not progress.) It’s not just the cover art of SORA that’s captivating – the music is too, from start to finish. The use of varying guitar tones is used to amazing effect. On heavier interludes there’s much of what I call “the Halifax sound”, i.e. the guitar tone heard on the early releases by Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride and Anathema (I know Anathema hailed from Liverpool, and My Dying Bride from Bradford, but both of those bands were such a pivotal part of the Halifax doom scene that their sound – along with that of actual Halifaxsters Paradise Lost – essentially defined that scene). SORA‘s tracks counterbalance real heaviness with delicate moments (as Anathema did even in the early, heavy days), frequently veering into blackgaze territory to create hypnotic soundscapes reminiscent of Deafheaven and Alcest. There’s even a couple of sublime piano intros that fit seamlessly into the songs. It’s impossible to label this band. That’s how it should be. Musical artists, like all artists, should explore and express, not hem themselves in.

That’s my top 10 albums of 2022. Of course there were loads of other albums that also impressed me this year. I’m just not going to write about all of them at length. I’ve a big sequel to finish, don’t you know? (Currently 423,788 words and counting.) I don’t want the year’s other cracking albums to go without even a mention, though, so here’s a list of the releases that didn’t make my top 10 but resonated with me nonetheless: The Hu – Rumble of Thunder, Starfield – Confluence of Two Stars, Amon Amarth – The Great Heathen Army, Doodseskader – Year One, Timor et Tremor – Realm of Ashes, Brymir – Voices in the Sky, Vermilia – Ruska, Arjen Anthony Lucassen’s Star One – Revel in Time, Midnight Oil – Resist, Syöjätär – Pyhät puut, A Place of Level Earth – Fractured, Lost in Kiev – Rupture, Dawnwalker – House of Sand, Nothing but Echoes – The Sixth Extinction, Lunar Mercia – Leaving the Fragile Space, Russian Circles – Gnosis, Skid Row – The Gang’s All Here, AURORA – The Gods We Can Touch, Lumnos – A Glimpse Through the Event Horizon, Venom Inc. – There’s Only Black, Terra – Fur Dich Existiert Das Alles Nicht, Eternal Helcaraxe – Drown in Ash, A Mountain of One – Stars Planets Dust Me, Avantasia – A Paranormal Evening with the Moonflower Society, Ilvilja – Skymningsdager, Primordial Woods – De Rerum Natura, Herbstlethargie – Melancholie im Blattfall, Ilvilja – Endless Rivers, Grima – Frostbitten, Nurez – Nachtlied, Uzlaga – The Might of Waves, Interior Mors – Fronde, Spettri Ed Antiche Pietre, Eerie Heir –Your Face Forgotten, Your Fate Nightmare, Adrenalin Ghosts – Impossible Piano Pieces, Corpus Vitreum – The Roots of Corpus Vitreum, Olhava – Reborn, Dark Funeral – We Are the Apocalypse, Abbath – Dread Reaver, KORN – Requiem.