Black Label Society - "Stronger Than Death", 2000

"Stronger Than Death," the second release by the then-new Zakk Wylde project Black Label Society, marked a significant shift in the band's style; on this album, the guitarist/vocalist definitively moved beyond his well-known fascination with classic 70s southern rock, pursuing an increasingly heavier trajectory. Fans of southern-fried sounds like myself still hoped for a return to the more swampy, country-influenced, and bluegrass-tinged style of Pride & Glory; the debut album by Black Label Society, "Sonic Brew," had already taken a much more metallic approach than Pride & Glory, but it still managed to sound as if it was crafted in Dixieland. In contrast, "Stronger Than Death" largely left behind all the bluesier and more accessible melodies, instead delivering a blunt-force approach built mostly on single-string, downtuned riffs and heavier-than-thou chugging chords, all bathed in an abundance of Zakk's signature pinch harmonics.

The sludge metal elements introduced on "Sonic Brew" take center stage on "Stronger Than Death." It seems Wylde drew inspiration from Louisiana bands, especially Crowbar and Down, as well as from some of Pantera's heaviest material ("The Great Southern Trendkill"), combined with a generous dose of the stoner-doom metal then popularized by the growing crowd of Black Sabbath-worshipping, dope-smoking, downtuned peers. The title track perfectly encapsulates these influences, effortlessly sounding like a band straight out of New Orleans. Even Zakk's image became nastier; bell-bottoms and cowboy hats were gone, replaced by biker-style custom jackets, chains, and rottweilers on a leash, matching his more aggressive attitude in the photo sessions featured in the CD booklet. The vocals followed suit, adopting an even more caveman-like, gruff approach than on "Sonic Brew," matching the profanity-laden, pissed-off lyrics of the increasingly antagonistic frontman.

In terms of production, the album sounds noticeably clearer than the debut; the guitars remain prominent and—if possible—even heavier than before, although the distortion is a bit more modern-sounding and less filthy and overdriven than on "Sonic Brew." The drums have a bit more room in the mix this time, although Phil Ondich's snare still sounds somewhat tinny and lacks punch; his performance is adequate, if unspectacular. This is the last album he recorded with the band, as he was unceremoniously kicked off the tour supporting the record due to unspecified conflicts with Wylde, who literally threw his drums and all his belongings off the tour bus.

Both the album opener and closer are among the best material: "All For You" and "Love Reign Down" are pure Tony Iommi worship, with the latter especially sounding like a beefed-up, rebooted version of Black Sabbath's "Into the Void," a true exercise in heaviness and groove. The center of the tracklist, featuring the trifecta "Superterrorizer," "Counterfeit God," and "Ain't Life Grand," is another pivotal moment, showcasing another avalanche of Sabbath-inspired riffs updated with a slightly more modern edge. The choppier, more contemporary attempts at early 2000s metal in "13 Years of Grief" and "Phoney Smiles & Fake Hellos" are less successful, displaying, respectively, one-string groove-metal riffs and odd industrial hints that sound rather tacky, while the two obligatory acoustic and piano ballads are melancholic numbers that Wylde could write in his sleep, though they are better than many similar tunes he would later pen for future BLS records.

"Stronger Than Death" is a lesser album than "Sonic Brew," and it is far below the self-titled release by Pride & Glory. Both the rural, laid-back mood and the loud/soft dynamics that defined those two records are gone for good. This album sounds more like a perpetually pissed-off redneck who spends most of his time getting drunk on moonshine in his barn, goes into town just to watch baseball matches at the bar, and shoots anything that moves with a double-barrel shotgun. From the questionable album cover—featuring the band's skull mascot over a tribal-style tattoo design—to the band's macho image and lyrics, as well as the simplistic, one-dimensional riffing, "Stronger Than Death" dangerously steered the band decisively into jock-metal territory. If taken lightheartedly, though, it's an uplifting record, featuring some truly massive-sounding material that calls for another round of bourbon before launching into a bar brawl and ending the night in the slammer. It's narrow-minded, hostile, crass, and unsophisticated, so what's not to like?

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