Review Summary: Nevermore’s debut is the sort of album that could’ve only happened in the nineties yet there isn’t much else that sounds like it
From the very beginning, Nevermore was an anomaly in the American metal scene. Their 1995 self-titled debut makes more sense when put in the context of lead singer Warrel Dane and bassist Jim Sheppard’s previous band Sanctuary, following the mid-tempo approach of 1991’s Into The Mirror Black with infusions of contemporary sounds and an even more sardonic attitude. However, their power-thrash roots made any grunge associations laughable and their proggy melodrama made them feel more like Queensryche on steroids than anything to do with Pantera.
This feeling of being torn between two worlds is perfectly encapsulated by Dane’s vocal performance. With the days of wailing “Battle Angels” seemingly behind him, he largely opts for a sneering gothic baritone with some holdover falsettos for dramatic effect. This broad range never feels like he’s in too far over his head but can admittedly feel unrefined at times due to some searches for confidence. It would take a couple albums for Dane to find his footing, but already established penchants for unorthodox vocal lines and esoteric lyrics set up his unique character.
With that said, the talents of guitarist Jeff Loomis are what truly keep Nevermore’s debut from being a pure Sanctuary offshoot. Coming of age in the shredder era and even trying out for Megadeth as a teenager, one can hear those influences as his solos are technically abundant with some exotic flavor to his melodic sensibilities. His tricky phrasing and machinelike precision also gives the rhythms a sense of intense power, especially when bolstered by the busy muscle of alternating drummers Mark Arrington and Van Williams.
The album also establishes an early precedent for Nevermore’s varied songwriting approach. “What Tomorrow Knows” feels somewhat understated despite being the opener but sets a solid standard with its grinding mid-tempo chugs and forlorn vocals. It’s also great to see the band already pushing their dynamics between the atmospheric balladry of “The Sanity Assassin,” the speed metal dips in “Sea of Possibilities,” and the cynically anthemic “Godmoney.”
Of course, there are also a couple songs that reinforce the growing pains expected with a debut. “C.B.F.” features the biggest emphasis on sharp falsettos and aggressive tempo shifts while “Timothy Leary” is noteworthy foreshadowing for lyrical themes to come but comes off clunky and memorable. “The Hurting Words” also doesn’t quite catch fire as a ballad, lacking the weight of “The Sanity Assassin” and just shy of the emotional mastery that would soon come second nature.
Nevermore’s debut is the sort of album that could’ve only come out in the nineties yet there isn’t much that sounds quite like it. The band was working out its own quirks against the backdrop of their Sanctuary connection, but there are enough steps taken to assert a distinct identity. Nevermore would go on to more developed efforts but I’ve heard much more awkward debuts than this.
