Band:	W.A.S.P.
Album:	Kill, Fuck, Die
Style:	Heavy metal
Release date:	1997
Guest review by:	DayFly

01. Kill, Fuck, Die
02. Take The Addiction
03. My Tortured Eyes
04. Killahead
05. Kill Your Pretty Face
06. Fetus
07. Little Death
08. U
09. Wicked Love
10. The Horror

With the original lineup or rather the most visual part of the original lineup consisting of Chris Holmes and Blackie Lawless reunited, glam's premier shock act set out to reclaim the vacant (or otherwise occupied) throne of shock rock. Like Mötley Crüe, Alice Cooper and a host of other veteran acts, W.A.S.P. opted to operate in industrial metal, the chosen medium of the decade's most notorious act Marilyn Manson. Despite the new sound, the band's sonic fingerprint remains but make no mistake, Kill, Fuck, Die puts W.A.S.P.'s heavy metal into the industrial format, not the other way around. This is also the reason why K.F.D. could succeed in the first place, for if such a major change were not followed through to the end, a band would not only face the familiar accusation of selling out but also of creative cowardice.

Aside from the familiar characteristics of a industrial metal (distorted, harsh vocals, heavily effected production, etc.) W.A.S.P. also introduce a new aspects to characters in their lyrics. These are all deeply narcissistic and additionally often either reckless or simply hostile. The exact content matters little, what does matter is that they add wonderfully to the album's already bleak timbre, arguably creating clearer and more believable images than the slightly detached Idol. Of course, none of this would do any good without proper songwriting but thankfully Lawless and Holmes (who receives writing credit for every song) manage to arrange white noise fuzz into great hooks. The title track, the only moment where the album sounds somewhat like the classic, hedonistic W.A.S.P., acts as a welcome bridge between the familiar and the unfamiliar. More representative of the new sound are faster, vicious tracks such as "Little Death" and slower, disturbing songs such as "My Tortured Eyes". The great "U" draws a bit from both sides, shifting from chilling verses nicely accentuated by crooning vocals to a raging chorus. Probably even better is the captivating and compositionally peculiar "Kill Your Pretty Face" which unleashes a screaming hell on the three minute mark.

The reception to K.F.D. was not too good in Europe where critics and fans alike were all to happy to dissociate themselves from the American market. Never mind that, with this album the band legitimized their previously superfluous claim to the crown of shock rock. K.F.D. is also the band's last classic (thus far), so appreciate it while it lasts.