Manilla Road - Crystal Logic (1983)

★★★★★

Back when I was a naïve, wee metal warrior, I could not for the life of me understand the hype around MANILLA ROAD. The epic themes, fantastical lyrics, intentionally nasal vocals, incredible musicianship, and so much more just went right over my head. To this day, I don’t understand how the younger me couldn’t get behind this stuff because now it’s some of my favorite music. Ever.

After the first couple of albums where MANILLA ROAD were still obviously trying to find their sound, it’s on their legendary third album, 1983’s Crystal Logic, where the band we all know and love came into their own. For one, it completely ditched the heavy psych and hard rock flavors that had been present on the first two albums, and in their place was a bombastic blend of U.S. power metal and epic heavy metal, a combo that would permeate the band’s output from here onwards. In addition to the stylistic change was an overall tightening up of the band itself, moving from just decent performances to locked-in, precise, and near-perfect performances on record. If you’re at all familiar with where MANILLA ROAD would go from here, this specific move in tightening up their recordings would be crucial to their sound as it seems like each MANILLA ROAD record just got faster and faster. But enough behind the scenes, let’s talk Crystal Logic!

The album opens with a prologue, setting the scene for a warrior lost in the city of the dead, then we’re launched into “Necropolis,” a song about that very thing. It details a long and tiresome journey of a warrior, fighting off demons and protecting all they hold true: to overcome evil and return to where they belong. “Necropolis” is a standout song in the MANILLA ROAD catalog, not just for its awesome riffing and blistering solo, but because it’s a song that people can immediately sing along to. That chorus is absolutely infectious and every now and again, I’ll see people who don’t like MANILLA ROAD singing along to “Necropolis,” and that speaks volumes in and of itself. From there, we’re met with the titular track, a song full of chunky riffs, over-the-top vocals, and the patented manic guitar playing of Mark “The Shark” Shelton. Moving forward is a genuinely indescribable set of tracks, all chock-full of brilliant songwriting, foreboding riffs, soaring melodic passages, passionate and expressive lead vocals, slick bass playing, and some scorching drumming to boot.

In lieu of describing each track on its own, I’ll talk about some of my favorites. “The Riddle Master” is as good a place as any to start, with its multiple tempo changes, allowing the song’s atmosphere to shift in time with the lyrical progression. It moves from a lumbering and heavy main theme, into a slightly faster chorus, then into a fast rhythm for the last bit of the song before returning to that main theme – God, it’s so cool. “The Veils of Negative Existence” is another doomy and slow song, with a menacing set of chords that oscillate throughout the runtime, hammering home not only the feeling conveyed by the title, but also the general vibe of the song. What is “negative existence” and why is it veiled? These are the kinds of questions you’ll ask yourself; you don’t know what these terms mean, but surely it isn’t good and the song does an excellent job of getting that message across.

Finally, I want to talk about the epic closing track, “Dreams of Eschaton.” Does it blatantly rip off the riff to “Angel of Death” by Angel Witch? Yes, it does – note for note – BUT, it uses it in such a different way that it doesn’t even matter. The song explores the fear of nuclear annihilation – after all, this was written during the Cold War – in conjunction with mythical creatures and locations being the only sources of salvation, specifically calling out a supposed antichrist figure who makes it their mission to sentence all warlords to death. Hell of a subject, huh? Throughout the 10-minute runtime, we’re presented with several different themes, switching from a calm acoustic intro, then into the main theme (where the stolen riff lies), then into a sub-theme of that, and finally, the closing epilogue of Crystal Logic where the album praises the glory of the world in Latin: “Sic transit gloria mundi!” Despite its length, the track never slows down and by the time it’s over, it doesn’t even feel like 10 minutes have passed. If a band can write a song of that length and fool me into believing it’s not actually that length, well kudos to them, and MANILLA ROAD is no different.

I urge you, if you haven’t checked this album out, do yourself a favor and listen to Crystal Logic, lest the Gods of Hell sentence you to die!!!

Encyclopædia Metallum

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Originally published in April '24 (Issue No. 3)