that was consumed
he actually threw up in the helmet [laughs].
That was quite an event. But I quite liked
‘Don’t Go.’ I liked working on it as well. It was one of the first times we worked with Julien Temple, who went on to bigger and better things, I believe. That was quite exciting. We were generally on location, so the chances of meeting any movie star would be quite remote.
‘Don’t Go’ was done in London. It’s usually just generally locally where we happened to be.”
Next up was “Hot Rockin’,” perhaps the album’s heaviest track, this one recalling
“Breaking the Law” as well; it’s all business and meat-and-potatoes with a metal ride out into a late night of trouble. Almost a punk rocker, there’s a great dramatic break late in the track, before an inspiring lapse into another verse.
For the video (also directed by Julien Temple), Rob was singing expressively, convincingly, in a car, out for a night on the town, positively raging for a bit of mischief. This footage was interspersed with the band live on a sound-stage, increasingly lighting bits of their gear on fire in front of a small crowd of egregiously committed metalheads. Recalls Ian, “Rob set his boots on fire and he couldn’t put it out; he
was putting this jelly stuff on his palm, I think.
And he couldn’t get his boots off because they were hot. He was running around there until somebody found a fire extinguisher.” Indeed, by the time Rob got his long, tight boots off, his toes were apparently half-burnt from the heat.
“Turning Circles” is the record’s second shocker, its opening riff sounding like something off a Lou Reed album. Fortunately, the song up-ratchets to what is at least a dark pop rocker, reminiscent of something Blue Öyster Cult might have done that same year. “Desert Plains”
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follows, and this one underscores the album’s essence as something slightly morose, laid-back, understated. It’s a rocker, one that could have fit on British Steel, or strangely, Defenders, but again, the fireworks are kept in the box. Amus-ingly, the 2001 reissue of Point of Entry includes a crazy-fast live version of the song — the biggest change in tempo of a song, from studio to live, I’ve ever heard out of any band. The song is wholly transformed in the process.
Side two of the original vinyl opens with another languid but, on the main, heavy rocker, “Solar Angels” helping define the British Steel/Point of Entry era as built around simple structures, plain but competent recording values, excellent expression from Rob, and a certain pop timelessness. Next was
“You Say Yes,” which Tipton deems a brave experiment if not a successful one. Again, it’s part and parcel of this album’s identity.
Arrangements are similar throughout the album, and some songs are just happier — this is one of them, its funky, circular riff working well with Rob’s flirting lyric. “All the Way” con-tinues in this mainstream mode, sounding like a cross between glam, the Stones and “Living After Midnight.” “Troubleshooter” — same thing. This was a Priest pared down and pert, ready to compete perhaps with the world of post-punk new wave.
The album closes with “On the Run,” more of a conventional Priest rocker with distinct echoes of British Steel’s point-blank rockiness.
Still, its status quo strut was a far cry from the note density strafing of a “Hell Bent for Leather” or “Dissident Aggressor.”
Commercially, Point of Entry would be con-sidered a stumble after British Steel’s seemingly effortless vault to gold status. The album peaked at around 425,000 for a while and finally was awarded gold on November 10,
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1989. In its day, it would rise to #14 in the U.K.
charts, and #39 in the States, compared to #4 in Britain and #34 in the States for its more well-endowed partner, British Steel.
Oddly, the band, in retrospect, talks about the album as very strong but perhaps self-indulgent, even progressive. It is, in fact, none of these things. And Priest was the band of record when it came to being self-indulgent and progressive and pulling it off with almost Queen-like flair. This is what they were like during their golden period in the late ’70s. But come Point of Entry, no, all you had really was simple and poppy — nicely done mind you, but simple and poppy all the same. If writing music pointedly to make some dosh at the expense of purity and creativity was self-indulgent, well then Priest was being self-indulgent.
“We still play ‘Heading out to the Highway’
live,” reflects Ian, looking back at this con-tentious record. “It’s a great live track. We didn’t make a conscious effort where we went,
‘We’d better try and sell this to the teenybop-pers.’ There was none of that. It was just that
we went in the studio and did what we did.
There was no conscious effort to make the album commercial — it just turned out the way that it did.”
Between the record release and touring, Priest parted ways with their business office, Arnakata Management. Amid accusations of financial mismanagement, there was a
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difference of vision. Management wanted Priest to ditch the black leather and studs, the whole heavy metal image, along with the Harley. Priest figured this was central to their identity and decided to manage themselves for a time, under the guise of Secret Manage-ment Associates Inc.
The Point of Entry tour kicked off in mid-February of ’81, with Saxon as support.
Perhaps cognizant of their slip, the band played the four heaviest metal songs from the album, and nothing else, although “Troubleshooter”
was given a test run. Arguably, “On the Run” is the key heavy metal deletion, but other than that, Point of Entry’s dark side was covered, through the proprietorship of “Heading out to the Highway,” “Hot Rockin’,” “Desert Plains”
and “Solar Angels.” The opener was in fact
“Solar Angels,” the band hitting the stage after an extended atmospheric intro. The back cata-log semi-hits were piling up, with perhaps
“Don’t Have to be Old to be Wise” being
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man-out on a set list starting to firm up for all time. In the U.S., Priest took out a rocketing Iron Maiden, along with a fading Humble Pie, and for the second time, the Joe Perry Project.
The stage set was a step up, with hydraulic platforms, a futuristic star-shaped lighting system and more room to roam — which the band did enthusiastically, aided as well by the use of new wireless guitar systems. A curious red and yellow pattern in front of the amps had Glenn quipping that it looked like a Chinese restaurant. Glenn’s black leather jacket and red pants were displayed in all their glory, but Rob looked kind of casual in a denim and leather ensemble. At one show, the lighting system came unhinged on one side and swooped down upon the band, missing them, but taking out a few cymbals in the process.
“Paul Di’Anno apologized personally to me for causing bad air between Maiden and Priest,” said K.K., looking back in 2003 at Priest’s relationship with the eventual usurpers
of the metal throne. “What a great gesture. But he wasn’t the main reason for the rivalry. At the time of British Steel, Priest was the bigger band and Maiden was the supporting act. They were saying that they’ll blow us off the stage without any problem. Well, I thought their behavior wasn’t very nice. I’d have loved to send them home and take another band with us who would have appreciated the chance. But we were told not to do it, as it would have looked like we were frightened by them. So we kept on going. But they were very arrogant. And I remember the main rehearsal before the tour, there were a few guys hanging around in the room who didn’t say a word and watched everything we did, every step we made and every move of the stage lights. I wasn’t very pleased, and asked the guitar tech to tell the guys to leave the place. Don’t get me wrong:
I’m not ‘too good’ to play in front of the sup-porting band — but they could have at least asked if it was OK to attend the rehearsal. We
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went on tour and they didn’t blow us off the stage, of course. I watched quite a lot of the Maiden shows, but the reaction of the audience wasn’t very explosive, because the fans were waiting for us.OK, Maiden became one of the biggest bands of the metal scene, and I’m proud of them. We made a big mistake by focusing more on the U.S. than on Europe after releasing British Steel, which means we lost a lot of attention at home. In the U.S., we were quite big — and Maiden asked us for a support slot on our U.S. tour. We said yes — and the same old story happened again. It had a lot to do with rivalry and jealousy. But it’s an old story.
Like I already said, I’m proud of what Maiden achieved and of what they did for British metal.
It might sound stupid, but it’s true.”
The band was in the States from May of ’81 through July, followed by November and December dates in Britain and mainland Europe with Def Leppard and Accept in tow.
Curiously, at least early in the campaign, the British Steel album cover was being used on tour posters, its distinct image perhaps making a subtle shift from cover for a set of songs to a
descriptor for the upcoming show: Judas Priest
— British Steel!
Forever a burr in Priest’s saddle, Gull Records returned in ’81 with a double album called Hero, Hero, which trotted out the old Rocka Rolla and Sad Wings of Destiny material (already reissued in various territories and in a number of ways), yet again. Cool little changes were part of the package though, the best addi-tion being the early, warmer, more relaxed
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version of “Diamonds and Rust.” Both are good, sure, but this one is positively cushy compared to the thin and frenetic take that showed up on Sin After Sin. Also, through a Rodger Bain remix, “Rocka Rolla” was slightly rearranged, with the harmonica taken out and some soloing lost. “Deep Freeze” was made nastier — finicky things were done to various guitar and vocal parts — and all of those bitty pieces of the Rocka Rolla Winter Suite epic were chopped up properly. Finally, Melvyn Grant was called upon to provide the rights to his fantasy warrior painting Sword of the Gael, already used for a book cover in 1975. It was one of at least three fetching new fantasy-based paintings Gull would use to tart up the vener-able Priest material they kept reconfiguring, and, although they looked good and fit the bill for the band’s moody, mysterious first two records, one can’t — and shouldn’t — erase the iconic Sad Wings art from one’s mind. Rocka Rolla is another story, but ultimately, these things should remain as they were. . . .
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Screaming for Vengeance (CBS, July ’82)
Side 1 The Hellion Electric Eye
Riding on the Wind Bloodstone
(Take These) Chains Pain and Pleasure
Side 2
Screaming for Vengeance
You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’
Fever Devil’s Child
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