Review Summary: A mid-2000s power metal curiosity
Having gained prominence as a singer for Judas Priest and Iced Earth, Tim “Ripper” Owens seemed to be on a rising trajectory back in the 2000s. However, those bands having their designated songwriters tightly controlling outside contributions presumably led to the desire to have a project where he could have creative control and be more than just a hired gun. That desire led to the formation of Beyond Fear in 2005 and the release of their lone self-titled album the following year.
The opening “Scream Machine” certainly offers a lot of promise with its modernized heavy metal sound. The band’s musicianship and Jim Morris’ stunning production job are on full display as the guitar tone is the perfect sort of molten polish with plenty of thick chugs to match, the drums are precise, and Owens’ usual mix of mid-range wails and piercing shrieks are among the cleanest and most powerful of his entire career. It also helps that the song itself is tight, bringing plenty of cheesy goodness in its fast verses, over the top chorus, and appropriately constant falsetto screams.
Unfortunately, subsequent songs lack the impact of that strong but swift start. Aside from a couple slightly upbeat outliers like “My Last Words,” the album is executed at a largely mid-tempo pace with the guitars dropping the fast gallops in favor of stop-start patterns and the drums slowing down while maintain some busy rhythms. Tracks like “Save Me,” “Words of Wisdom,” and “Your Time Has Gone” get quickly repetitive right down to having soundalike fade-in scream introductions and their hooks often come off as directionless. An all-out power ballad in “Dreams Come True” doesn’t help either as Owens doesn’t quite have the sensitivity to pull off the saccharine lyrics.
But even if there isn’t anything to match the intensity of “Scream Machine,” Beyond Fear still manages to throw in some pretty good songs. “And… You Will Die” and “The Faith” put the mid-tempo pacing to its best uses as the former weaves a dark aura with its tense vocal trade-offs and hard-hitting rhythms while the latter is a life-affirming anthem in classic metal tradition, suggesting plenty of inspiration from Owens’ alma mater. “Telling Lies” is also noteworthy for its memorable chorus and anti-Bush lyrics that feel almost quaint in hindsight.
If I may play armchair psychologist to a person whom I’ve never met and is more successful than I’ll ever be, I have a pet theory that Beyond Fear was a turning point that cemented Tim Owens’ hired gun status. It wasn’t the runaway success that was hoped for, and its mixed reception discouraged them from putting in the thankless work that would’ve given it long term viability. This resulted in the chain of tribute tours, one-off supergroups, and bands where he all needed to do to get paid was show up and sing that we see today.
It's a shame because while Beyond Fear’s sole album isn’t a lost classic, its approach could’ve at least been better developed with time. The production and musicianship are incredibly potent and it’s easy to imagine how they’d be even more effective had there been more songs with the speed and bombast of “Scream Machine.” Considering how Owens’ lone solo album, 2009’s Play My Game, often felt like a secret follow-up, it certainly feels like there could’ve been more to work with. It may not be a particularly great album, but fans of Fight or Primal Fear might get a kick out of it as a historical curiosity. At least it’s better than The Three Tremors.
