Blood of the Sun - Burning On The Wings Of Desire: Come All Ye Faithful

Blood of the Sun should be headlining big arenas, flying in private jets, and drinking champagne from Tokyo to Helsinki. As it is, they're making great rock in relative anonymity and currently blowing my mind with their brand of organ soaked 70s high octane rock and boogie.

Burning On The Wings Of Desire is the band's fourth long player, and it's a beautiful slice of rock - produced by hard rock renaissance man Tony Reed (Stone Axe, Mos Generator) who also supplies all the bass on the album, plays a ton of guitar, and contributed his songwriting and arranging chops, as well. The band is the brainchild of drummer Henry Vasquez (St. Vitus) and keyboard killer Dave Gryder, and it's fronted by the unlikely mixture of two veterans from the Southern Rock legends, Point Blank, vocalist John O' Daniel and six string sizzler Rusty Burns. It's tough to tell the players without a program, but Reed tells me that he's supplying the Gibson toned leads, and Rusty Burns the more Fenderish Strat tones.

If Deep Purple had been born in Texas in 2012, they may well have sounded a lot like Blood of the Sun. Burns and Gryder produced a thick, heavy, viscous roux of rock that satisfies mightily. They manage to avoid stepping on one another's toes as they both play their asses off from start to finish on every tune. The songwriting also exhibits some modern molten touches, while simultaneously making me thing of Blood, Sweat and Tears with a soulfulness mostly missing from modern metal. Yeah, they cover a lot of ground, but they don't really sound like anyone except themselves.

Let It Roll hits the ground running, and O' Daniel's sky high vocal chops keep things from even suggesting retro, his voice still possesses every note he could ever hit, and when he screams in the organ solo, you feel it. After Gryder's B-3 smack down, we're greeted with some Gibbonsesque guitar pentatonics, then Gryder takes the reigns and ups the ante and Burns rides it out in grand fashion before the song's final verse leads us to a happy ending.

The title track is next, and it's a rocket fuel fired organ romp that's joined by Burns excellent shadings of purple - this bunch swaggers more than they swing, but it's Blackmore and Lord who seem to have donated the DNA that drives this engine. There's a familiar instrumental interlude that takes us back to the psychedelic '60s, then Tony Reed's bass nearly shakes the stucco of the walls as again Reed, Burns and Gryder slam out cool solos. Burning On The Wings Of Desire, indeed.

I have to point out Reed's production - I've heard bands with the same instrumentation sound blurry and muddied, but he's managed to keep everything crystal clear and knife edge sharp. Can't Stop My Heart is a number that could suffer without a sympathetic mind behind the board, and this is as crisp as Iron Maiden at their best. Burns rips off a solo that should have his face on guitar magazines, then Gryder pushes him out of the way and it's a Hammond scorched earth.

Bring Me Down is as close as we get to a slow one, and it's riff lies right between London, England and the Rio Grande. It's also the most Southern tune on tap - it's about the only place I can connect the dots between this bunch and Point Blank, but it has a Brit blues  bent that keeps it from ever sounding stilted. Gryder pounds out a honky tonk piano solo that evokes a man trying to elegantly walk down a spiral staircase after a case, and he lands on his feet in time for Burns to slap on a slide solo that stings.

Straight back into high speed drum work from Vasquez and Rock Your Station sounds like a long last track from an album you've never heard from 1976. This one's relentless, and it's the same set of things that have made every track a blast, but these songs never sound same-y, or trite - it just sounds like a great band who did their work and delivered the goods.

Good Feeling is another shotgun blast, and it's full tilt boogie - boogie is a term which seldom rears its head in these days when so many have forgotten that great rock makes you move your ass, as well as your mind. Vasquez keeps this one steaming, and the band hangs on and never misses a step. O' Daniel's voice is incredibly sharp and powerful on this one, and again the soloists kick my silly ass.

The formula remains the same on The Snitch, but it's kind of like the formulas that work for great bands like ZZ Top, The Stones, and their ilk. They keep going back to the same tap and mining gold, not an easy task, but Blood of the Sun do a fantastic job on this record of not wearing thin, or grating - it all sounds fresh, and fiery.

Good and Evil is seven and a half minutes of brilliance, and an excellent way to wind this record up. A great riff from Rusty Burns, and organist Gryder howls in a manner that assures me that Jon Lord is smiling down from his perch in the cosmos. Wino's vocal cameo brings in yet another flavor, and the heaviness is perfect. I can't imagine how beautiful this must come across in a live setting. Yeah, this one gets better and better, right up to the end.

This is going to end up on my favorites list for this year, that's for sure. Is this retro, or just what hard rock should sound like in 2012? I don't care one way, or another - this is a great record of rock, and it should find its way under trees, into stockings, and into CD players. Don't you dare download this - buy it. It deserves to be bought, played, and loved.

Mos Generator - Nomads: Balls Aplenty & A 2012 High Water Mark

Mos Generator puts out their first album in over five years, and it turns out that is was well worth the wait. Nomads is yet another winner from the studio and mind of Tony Reed, and his label, Ripple Music. Both are on a helluva streak with no slowdown in sight. It just might be the hard rock/metal album of the year. Tony Reed is a writer, singer, producer, and guitarist of prodigious talent, and this may be his finest moment yet.

Cosmic Ark sets things up beautifully. It sounds like you've discovered a long missing Sabbath track from the early days. It's not sacrilege to either team - Reed is amongst the finest regular purveyors of classic hard rock in the world, and while this is not as derivative as his regular band, the all '70s style encompassing Stone Axe, the sonic footprint of the decade of the metal gods is all over this platter. The riffage is simple and solid, the vocals are passionate, and the rhythm section is propulsively solid. The bridge is a jazzy spin that suggests the better instincts of The Guess Who at their psychedelic best before the riff returns and rides out on some great string bending and chorus chanting.

The riff that kicks off Lonely One Kenobi should have a thousand kids out buying guitars, amps, and punishing music store sales people with constant repetition. Writing a great hard rock riff is like finding a big, raw diamond - it doesn't happen every day, and when one is unearthed it is as thrilling as ever. Just past two minutes in, the rock gives way to some very proggy brilliance - a nice segue into a brash melodic solo that ought to have the guitar magazines fawning over the long under acknowledged Reed. This might be the metal track of the year.

I've been harping for a Free reunion for years, and the album's next track suggests that Reed would be one great pinch hitter for the late Paul Kossoff. Torches blisters the paint off the blues - Tony is playing like his ass is on fire. His leads are sizzling hot sections that generally steer clear of the main of the tune to go off on a musical adventure that furthers the story like a good novel.

Step Up is a dynamo of dynamics - one minute it's a swaggering metal anthem, then it's a thoughtful meditation that invites you to "find your way up into the light." Bassist Scooter Haslip lays down the gauntlet on this one, and Reed takes off over the top on an Iommi informed flight of fancy that has me grinning from ear to ear and praying that the new Sabbath record is half this good.

When I saw that Tony Reed and his cohorts in Mos Generator were covering Judas Priest's Solar Angels, I shuddered slightly and went about my business of spinning the disc. It takes balls to cover a Priest tune - some would say it's ill-advised, at best. I'd say it just takes balls, and if there's one thing this album has it's balls aplenty.

Indeed, this cover has more balls than the original take - I'm a huge Judas Priest fan, but I found the production on their Point of Entry album to be thin and Halford's vocals were a bit thin, most likely given to the coke fueled times. I do wish Reed could have gotten Rob in for some harmonies on this, but I'm given to asking for a lot, some would say too much. Reed pulls this off, and for me that's huge - as I said, it's dangerous to cover something as iconic as the Priest, but the band kills it. Big, blustery, ballsy, and anthemic - hats off fellas.

For Your Blood stays in the neighborhood of early JP with a bit more boogie. Boogie is the long lost word on the path of stoner rock. The solo section here is a pile-driving dance as drummer Shawn Johnson rides his cymbals to great effect as Reed gives a class in rock and roll guitar playing - I'm reminded of the grand days of Foghat and Ram Jam's classic Black Betty.

Time changes and tempo jumps grab you by the throat and refuse to let go on Can't Get Where I Belong. Reed may not know exactly where he fits in the world at large, but he is the master of his domain, and that domain is anywhere there is a pair of humbuckers, and an amp stack. It's tough being the only guitarist in a rock band - it's a tremendously demanding task, and this guy knows every twist and turn in the lexicon of the language. I have a short attention span, and little patience, but this album keeps me on the edge of my seat.

The acoustic interlude that introduces the album's title track is a joy - it sounds fresh and was recorded so well that it sounds like it could fill a huge room with ease. In comes some muted chording that has a nice swing and sway - joined by a fluid bass line, then some tom tom hits and we're into a major groove. We're into the final track, This Is The Gift Of Nature, and it is an epic. You don't even have to smoke pot to get stoned by this one. It builds into a metallic romp, then Reed brings in the verse with a stagger step riff that is everything that bad metal isn't - this is musically satisfying, sophisticated, soulful rock and roll, and ye had best rejoice. Nomads is a labyrinth of great rock - not just this song, but the whole album.

Mos Generator has hit it out of the park on this record, with the bases loaded. A grand slam that will have you fist pumping, dancing, and even thinking. Get out whatever you play, be it an air guitar, or the real thing - you're gonna need them. This is an inspiring piece of rock, and I hope it has the influence it deserves. Tony Reed is at the top of his game, and I can't wait to see where he goes from here.

There's a ton of reminders of what a great band Black Sabbath was at one time on this record - I hope that the Sabs and Rick Rubin come up with something that makes me half this happy.