It was one of those records I wanted to shake my head at. After the theatrical '80s W.A.S.P. were found floundering in the 1990s, attempting to carve out a serious career as a dark rock act with a batch of concept albums to hand out, no-one was really interested in the operatics of Blackie and company as they stumbled their way through, somehow hanging on to record deals whilst the grunge scene made everything from the '80s look like a criminally dated joke. Of course, the '80s weren't a joke, and bands and fans would always find themselves skinny-dipping back to those hair-metal days of studded-leather wrist bands and inverted crosses, but little did we realise at how competent W.A.S.P. were of reinventing the steel, somehow taking us back to the grimy strains of 1987 and churning out 'Helldorado', a big yyyyeeee-hhaaaa! of a record that smoked from its boots to its horns.
Blackie had managed to tear away the bland murmuring of the '90s and bring W.A.S.P. back with a bang, that reliant hellfire rasp, those buzzing guitars and song titles that would have people mocking, and then rocking. 'Dirty Balls' and Dont Cry Just Suck' won't go down as tracks that changed the face of metal, and they'll probably never go down as W.A.S.P.'s best moments, but somehow these raw cuts were enough to bring W.A.S.P. back from the dead and not relegate them to the realm of volcanic cheese.
There is a distinct menace on offer here, as well as Blackie's usual hot sauce, but with Chris Holmes burning the axe once again, all was well and wild in the camp, for a short while anyway, because unfortunately follow-ups to this regressive whiplash were once again disappointing. However, the great thing with 'Helldorado' is that it makes you want to put on the debut disc, or slam on 'Live...In The Raw', because it has that feel to it, and whilst there may never be another 'Sleeping In The Fire' to drool over, 'Helldorado' just did enough to remind us of where we came from.
7/10
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