The Classic Metal Album Reviews:
Title: Drugs, God and the New Republic
Artist: Warrior Soul
Label: DGC
Release Date: 1991

Rating: 4 Skulls
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    • Reviewed by Solomon:
    Warrior Soul, along with bands like Saigon Kick, Alice In Chains and Soundgarden were part of a "new metal" (not "nu-metal") renaissance that formed a bridge between 80's sex, drugs and Satan posturing and 90's alternative musings. The heaviness and hair were there, but these groups took the Led Zeppelin legacy and gave it a "grungy" make-over. Certainly, calling Warrior Soul "heavy metal," like many bands lumped into that category (The Gathering, anyone?), is giving the term some flexibility, but there was enough hair and power chords in the band to land them on Headbanger's Ball. I recently saw a VH-1 program dealing with music from this period, and one of the Saigon Kick guys more or less stated that his band failed to make it big largely because they had been too different too early. The same can maybe be applied to Warrior Soul, a band that started releasing records at the tail-end of metal's Golden Years and just before a certain Seattle trio made the word "metal" a four-letter, five-letter word.

    Drugs, God and the New Republic puts "old wine into new skins." The songs revolve around some relatively simple, repetitive and direct ideas that are taken from Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden and given a speedier, more raucous, more rock 'n' roll drive in the vein of Jane's Addiction. Speaking of that last band, I swear the title track sounds like "Over The Mountain," and this tune is certainly the biggest heap of body-slammin' joy on the record. "Rocket 88" and "Man Must Live As One" are also upbeat, Iommi-inspired, fun tunes. "Wasteland" is more of a straight 80's, party-vibe metal song with fun lyrics, to boot ("If I make bail tell you where I'll go/Gonna cross the border into Mexico"). "Jump for Joy" is a bit of an oddball track, with a dark, 'Somewhere In Time' riff that stands out far above the rest of the album. John Ricco provides some catchy guitar work and a few nifty solos across the board, and vocalist Kory Clarke contributes a pre-RATM, anti-establishment, "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me" lyrical stance. Clarke is rather infamous for his ranting, and even though his words show fire and inspiration, I find myself wanting to jump up and bounce around gleefully to the rhythm parts, rather than burn the Stars and Stripes. If the bands wants me to write angry letters to my Congressman, they have failed. If they want me to rock out in my room with a broom as air-guitar, they have won a glorious victory.
    4 out of 5

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