PANTERA LYRICS - Power Metal
PANTERA lyrics - "Power Metal" () album, including "P.S.T."88"", "Burnnn", " Hard Ride" We'll Meet Again 4. Over And Out 5. And rise again. To save. We'll Meet Again This song is by Pantera and appears on the album Power Metal (). I walk the Streets of darkness Where hell awaits Guarded by the. Lyrics to "We'll Meet Again" song by Pantera: I walk the Streets of darkness Where hell awaits Guarded by the mystery Just beyond the gates S.
From the end of this paragraph, I shall not mention this album's impact on the wider rock and metal world, for it really has no relevance in how I judge this. This album was a pioneer of groove metal, a subsection of metal that, while I am not entirely fond of, is still infinitely more fruitful in its gems than things like metalcore or what ever the fuck Soundtrack to Your Escape was meant to be.
Both that and The End of Heartache are albums which I have trashed for their influence as much as their musical merit. And while this is pretty toxic musically as in, it is easily fucked up through trying to copy itthis isn't nu 'metal' incarnate.
This isn't the viral corruption, it is just something so inoffensive, easy to stomach and prominent in the mainstream that it was parodied to no end. And with that obligation out of the way, let us begin. Vulgar Display of Power is quite an odd album, with respect to Pantera's discography. Though all of their albums contain good points, what separates the good from the bad is how consistent the album is. Both Far Beyond Driven and Reinventing the Steel suffer from having huge peaks surrounded by desolate valleys in terms of quality, leading to albums with songs like 'Hellbound' or 'Slaughtered' also having tracks like 'Good Friends and A Bottle Of Pills' and 'Goddamn Electric'.
It makes for a very frustrating listen, especially with the latter, which feels like it was recorded in 2 different sessions. However, this album is incredibly consistent. Barring one little hitch 'No Good'this doesn't throw any laughably bad or vomit inducing ideas at the listener.
Though there are clear highlights, every track possesses some sort of merit, and are all enjoyable to a degree. Another oddity is the production: It is actually very good. Pantera's and albums had shockingly bad production, with the former actually giving me a headache after a while.
The drums were a clicky mess, the guitars were so off and over-distorted that you wonder how much money went into the production, and the vocals were too loud. That isn't the case here, quite the opposite. Though the album does eschew a discernible bass guitar tone, the low end from it is certainly there, and the result of this is a very heavy and thick guitar tone.
It still has nothing on the underground stuff of the decade, but it is mightily crushing. The same goes for the drums, they have a full and dynamic sound, lacking the dull thud or click of other Pantera albums. Even the bass drums have some fucking BASS to them! The mixing is good too, with everything being well balanced, even the vocals.
You see, the issue with this album lies in its strengths, or rather, its strengths are indicative of its main weakness. This album is polished, refined and consistent. However, let's look at that another way: That isn't to say it is pure background music, far from it. It is just that I don't get quite such a visceral response from it as say, The Great Southern Trendkill. Hell, even Far Beyond Driven annoys the hell out of me and gives me a headache with its unerring grit and anger.
Every Pantera album barring Reinventing the Steel pushes something to the extreme. This does none of that. It doesn't surprise me, I can't really relate to it on an emotional level, it isn't awesome, and it doesn't even annoy me like groove metal should.
One of the most contentious points about this albums are Dimebag's riffs. Now, I will admit that they are inferior to the groovy thrash riffs of Cowboys From Hell, and on the whole grooves are not as good as fully formed riffs.
That said, some of these songs are proper thrashers with proper thrash riffs - 'Mouth For War', 'Fucking Hostile' and especially 'Rise' are all amazing high-tempo scorchers, having a focus and drive that Pantera generally lack.
I called her sugar when I ate Her alive till daylight. And I slept with her all Over me, from forehead to ribcage I dripper her ass. Sometimes I thought you might be spying, living out some Brash fantasy, but no. You were knocked out. But we were All knocked out you know.
In a way I serve too many masters. We didn't know you'd break the bottle that the magic Came in to use those jagged shards to slit our wrists And neck. And you'd do it too, you're that kind of dude. But you wouldn't know what you were doing because I didn't, your girlfriend could have been a burn Victim, an amputee, a dead body. But god damn I wanted To fuck. I'm serving too many fucking masters. But through blood I inherited a life that could destroy you.
Pantera - Vulgar Display of Cowboys - Reviews - Encyclopaedia Metallum: The Metal Archives
I drink all day. I smoke all day. I've done it all but tap The vein. These hard lines and sunken cheeks are text book reasons All these Christians come alive and try to sell you My soul for a goat, yet I'll outlive the old.
You know it's bad, some may say sad, a hangover is Inspiration. Like a junkie I hurt for it. A bad trip, the Emptiness. I never sleep, or always sleep a lack of Fulfillment to me is me. These hard lines and sunken cheeks are part of What the Christians mean to immortalize my situation. My soul for a goat.
Yet I'll outlive the old. To get close to some Undivine ejaculation point. Simply to thy ghost I cling. Simply to thy ghost I reject. Simply to thy ghost I give spit. Tempter, tempting, tempt me. You know that I'll Submit. For this is my weakness and it saves me from relationships With those Christians. You know they'll sell you my soul For a goat. At battle with a mass astringent.
The bond That blends the weak to the wise. It's a safe assumption that you'd want to save me now. But I'll never face castration.
For your sacred sow is left slaughtered. Bird brained World saver. A fake god rests dead inside you. For your sacred sow is left Slaughtered.
The fruit Of intention cry for their dead, but turning their head to Ignore reality's claw. Knife to your wrist, syringe in your Arm is your ounce of prevention. Give what you made, And under your name on your grave, is salvation.
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