By 1992, Metal was all but on its knees. Traditional bands had become dinosaurs and previously popular scenes were burnt out. There were exceptions, of course. Slayer were playing arenas, Metallica had global domination in their sights, death metal was approaching its peak and across northern Europe, black metal was literally rising from the ashes of burned churches. But for the rest of the world, grunge and other alternative scenes were the new kings, all drawing inspiration from the bands they were replacing but without any of that old fashioned baggage.

As the world trudged down an unplugged road of tatty corduroy and old sweaters, Pantera was moving in a wholly different direction. Swapping leopard print and lipstick for violent Neanderthal riffs, the Texan four-piece gave themselves the mother of all makeovers. Gone were ‘Ride My Rocket’ and ‘Proud to be Loud’, now we had ‘Primal Concrete Sledge’ and ‘Domination’. This shift in tone was already evident on 1988’s Power Metal (Metal Magic) and even more so on their 1990 breakthrough Cowboys From Hell (Atco) but the metamorphosis was only truly completed on its game-changing follow-up.

Taking its title from 1973 horror classic The Exorcist, Vulgar Display of Power (Atco) was exactly that. From the grainy black and white cover photo to its tough, streetwise lyrics, Pantera wanted to broadcast a more relevant and realistic message to the youth of the day. Subjects like racism, jealousy, politics and urban violence all struck a major chord with a generation disillusioned with the outwardly depressing state of music and the world in general. Armed with songs like ‘A New Level’, ‘Rise’, ‘Live in a Hole’ and ‘Regular People (Conceit)’, Pantera had taken the aggression of thrash, added groove and social awareness and tapped into something huge.

Ditching his more traditional vocal style, frontman Phil Anselmo turns in a grittier and career-defining performance. In songs like ‘This Love’ and ‘Hollow’, he counters vulnerability and grief with bitterness and frustration, the former cut becoming an instant hit with MTV viewers. Further TV coverage was guaranteed with the molten ‘Mouth For War’ and the iconic ‘Walk’ while the punk attitude of ‘Fucking Hostile’ would be the cause of many broken bones at the band’s incendiary live shows.

Sharing the spotlight with Anselmo, legendary guitarist Dimebag Darrell (still being referred to as Diamond Darrell) divebombs, trills, bends and pinch squeals like a madman, delivering crunching riffs with swagger and undiluted authority. Not to be outdone, the rhythm section of bass player Rex Brown (thankfully having dropped his “Rex Rocker” soubriquet) and Dimebag’s now also sadly departed brother, drummer Vinnie Paul both contribute more than their fair share of blood, sweat and tears, as does producer Terry Date, who had already earned himself a big reputation but went on to become one of the most sought after producers of the ’90s and ’00s.

For good or bad, the cultural impact of Vulgar… cannot be overestimated. With so much attention suddenly afforded to the band, it was virtually impossible to walk down the street without bumping into someone in a Pantera shirt, sporting a pink goatee, or wearing a razor blade around their neck. Of course, the blanket media coverage also had an opposite reaction with some and a backlash was inevitable. Some metal fans could simply not come to terms with the fact that their favourite bands had been supplanted by these hungry young upstarts – ironically in the very same manner as those bands had replaced their own predecessors. Some even refused to accept that Pantera’s newly found caveman stomp lay firmly within the remit of thrash metal, even with the existence of bands like Exhorder, to whom they were already being likened.

Even for my twenty year old self, it took time to come round. Having fallen slightly out of love with metal for a time (save for all the usual suspects), Pantera had slipped under my radar. I’d seen the album in record shops, sitting between the likes of Overkill and Paradise Lost but where was the evil imagery? Where was the abstract artwork? Where were the eagles and oiled up metal warriors? Instead, songs like ‘Fucking Hostile’ and ‘Walk’ combined with the punchy-face album cover and a skinhead singer gave more of an impression of punk territory. It was only the title of ‘By Demons Be Driven’ which caught my attention. Well, if they sang about demons then they must be metal, surely? Eventually, many months of wallet-based indecision was finally laid to rest and it took less than twenty seconds after pressing play to come to the conclusion that I really should have handed over my hard-earned bits of paper a long time ago. Just like that, my love of metal was rekindled forever.

Whatever your own personal feelings about the band or Anselmo’s dubious taste in white wine, the influence Vulgar Display of Power had on metal in the ’90s was undeniable. A record so confrontational that it was allegedly banned from a number of juvenile detention centres across the US, its sledgehammer approach shook kids out of their stupor and gave them something both positive and primal to channel their anger instead.

Buy the album here: https://amzn.to/3sgmtx3

GARY ALCOCK

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