Review Summary: A mixed bag that I ultimately find deeply compelling
Fear of the Dark has a bizarre place in Iron Maiden’s trajectory. If not for that enduring title track, it would likely be seen as nothing more than an extension of No Prayer for the Dying’s street metal aspirations. It features similarly rough production, sleazy songs, and fatigued musicianship with Bruce Dickinson’s raspy screams signifying how he is just so clearly done with this ***. But rather than this resulting in another bored release, the band has channeled their collective apathy into what might be their most experimental album.
That distinction can immediately be seen with the opening crashes of “Be Quick or Be Dead” and “From Here to Eternity.” The former is the band’s punchiest opener since “Aces High” with its pounding drums and crackling siren wails bordering on thrash metal. The latter echoes the sleaze of “Holy Smoke” and “Bring Your Daughter” but seems to readily embrace the style, putting in a sinister yet cheeky riff alongside motorbike guitar squeals and gang vocals in full AC/DC ripoff splendor. Neither of these tracks are among the band’s absolute best but they do make for fun listens.
Once things get settled, the album reveals a thick atmosphere that’s downright spoopy by Iron Maiden standards. True to its title, it has a dark tone that gives it an almost autumn vibe with the gritty production rounded by sharp guitars, subtle synths, and more time devoted to brooding passages. Even the more straightforward rockers like “Chains of Misery” and “Judas Be My Guide” have a menacing edge that makes their rousing hooks more ominous. “Afraid to Shoot Strangers” even predicts the depression to come as its somber buildup, hushed vocals, conflicted lyrics, and climactic speeds make it a rare Dickinson-era track that was also perfectly suited for Blaze Bayley.
The lyrics also do a lot to give the album a stronger sense of purpose compared to its predecessor. Much like how Somewhere in Time used an overarching theme of time to cover a variety of topics, Fear of the Dark does the same in crafting a culture of fear expressed with even broader manifestations. Fears of war, disease, religion, and societal decay have more weight than No Prayer’s commentaries while fears of isolation, the afterlife, and the shadowy unknown lay down the groundwork for The X Factor’s full-on nihilism.
This disparate mix of elements across twelve songs yields fascinating results. There’s a reason why the title track is so iconic as its “Heaven Can Wait” through a funhouse mirror filter is exhilarating and existential, but there’s also a number of interesting deep cuts sprinkled throughout. “Childhood’s End” and “Wasting Love” are a particularly interesting pair, the former features rolling drums, yearning melodies, and desperate vocals while the latter commits to an earnest power ballad template with a bitter overcast.
On the flip side, such quantity means that not every experiment works. “Fear is the Key” certainly stands out for calling out the cultural enablement of the AIDS crisis but the hiccuping speeds and flatly spiraling vocal lines come off like the band just sort of gave up halfway through. “The Fugitive” is a good rocker whose promising atmospherics are somewhat beset by a chorus that’s a little too blunt while “Weekend Warrior” is just awkward and clunky all around. I’m the most conflicted on “The Apparition;” the life and death pondering lyrics have always resonated with me but the stomping delivery makes it feel more like something that Steve Harris just had to get out of his system as opposed to a proper song.
At the end of the day, Fear of the Dark is the sort of mixed bag that I can’t help but find deeply compelling. While Seventh Son is often regarded as the end of Iron Maiden’s classic era, there’s a much more palpable finality here between the off-the-cuff songwriting, distinct autumn mood, and performances that can’t decide if they’re giving the fans one last hurrah or just want to get this over with. It’s like a transition between the band’s youthful ambitions and the wizened musings that come to define them in old age. It’s easy to see why this stuff doesn’t show up in the setlists anymore, but it’s certainly worth a good excavation.
