Black Roze – Penny For Your Sins
Release Date: 28th April 2022
Label: Independent
Order/Stream
Genre: Glam, Sleaze, 80s, Metal, Hard Rock.
FFO: Leather, Bloody Heels, New Wave of Glam Metal.
Review By: Kira L. Schlechter
When the New Wave is actually, in many ways, better than the original wave – that seems to be the case with the latest go-round of glam metal. Placing themselves firmly near the very front of the current pack is Black Roze, with their outstanding sophomore effort, “Penny For Your Sins.”
Singer Viixen, guitarist Baz Rose, bassist Steve Rankin, and drummer Vic Finch, from Kent, England, wrote the follow-up to their 2019 debut, “Spiritual Hell,” during the Covid pandemic.
And it’s immediately apparent that they spent those tough years doing a boatload of self-improvement. This is the growth you hope to hear between a first album and a second – a succinct, punchy songwriting ethic, free of excess, that coalesces into just a damn fine hard rock record.
The album bio describes the title track as being about addiction and being inspired by the album artwork, created by The Exile, an artist currently serving time at Colorado State Penitentiary. His image is of a succubus giving said penny to souls in exchange for confessing their sins. And the lyrics are reflective of both subjects: “Retch and purge, I just want rid/Body aching for another hit” in the first verse; “Another day, is it lust or greed?/Like a demon that I have to feed” in the second. The chorus is that succubus luring, Viix’s voice low and sinister, as she insists, “Show yourself/I don’t care/I won’t tell.” The mix issues that plagued the band on their debut are banished for good – this sounds crisp, bright, and clean despite the sleaze factor inherent in the music; Viix’s vocals are now immediate and defined. A nicely trippy slower solo, loaded with Steve’s tasty bass, picks up and gives way to Baz’ wah-laden turn before two final choruses and that memorably juicy opening riff.
“Give Yourself To Me” kind of continues that addiction theme in some ways, particularly in the second verse (“Feel the ties that bind you to me/Feel the chain around your neck”) and in the chorus (“All alone inside this cage is where you want to be” and “Who’d have thought to be enslaved would make you feel so free”). The slippery, slinky groove in the verses is perfectly matched by Viix’s vocal treatment; the slight increase in tempo in the pre-chorus sets up the chorus really well. Baz’ brief solo atop the main riff is a highlight, as is Viix’ final line, “Give yourself to me” – she sounds jaded, snide, as if she couldn’t care less whether you follow her direction or not. It’s great.
The filthy opening riff of “Hit Me Up” makes it clear this is a party song, about the joys of cranking it up on the weekend. Viix’s alternating punchy/slurring delivery throughout again suits the storyline, of preparing to go out and then the booze and the music kicking in later. Vic’s cowbell before the guitar solo is dead on, as is the bridge, which starts with a purr and crescendos to a roar before blasting again into the chorus. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” indeed.
“Devil’s Door” is described in the bio as stemming from Viixen’s life-threatening illness in February 2020, during which she experienced “a series of visual and auditory hallucinations.” And it’s definitely a harrowing, goosebump-inducing ride, a powerful, cinematic track that Vixx inhabits completely from a vocal perspective. From the spoken introduction, “Have you ever been/In that place, that space/Between life and death,” to the strident, helpless terror of her cry, “When the Devil comes a-knocking”; to the lure, the seductiveness, of just letting all the pain go in the first verse (“Little one, I see you/What a battle you’ve been through … See that light before you/You just have to let it in/Just relax and let it go”), to the second verse (“You have suffered so much/And now it’s time to say goodbye”), it’s all so effective and evocative. Her repetition of the line “Can’t you find your way home,” sung in the same flat, taunting tone, is eerie and unsettling. The pre-chorus is that crossroads, “My lucid eyes deceive me/The Serpent or the light,” and the pounding, grinding chorus rages at the universe to make up its mind, dammit – “Let me live or let me die” – because “I can’t atone/For the things I did.” Baz’ guitar alternates between creepy and downright evil; Steve’s liquidy bass added at the outro skitters along your nerves. And in a very clever songwriting twist, Viix says, “I can find my way home” at the end – but which home does she mean? Nicely done.
There’s so many good things about the punk-tinged “Wake Up” – a screed against the internet/social media – that it’s hard to know where to start. Steve’s wicked slap bass, Vic’s pocket drumming, Baz’ snarling riff, and Viix’s voice that goes from sardonic growl to flat-out pissed-off scream are only a few, as are the pointed, dead-on lyrics. “Your feed is fuelled with doom and gloom/And all the things you must consume/Like rabid dogs you take the bait/Slave to your screen and wracked with hate” – right? That’s just the first verse. “Feel free to speak, but not too much/If you don’t shut up, you will be hushed” – that’s the second. And the third is the coup de grâce: “Be kind, be kind to all, they cry/But their main aim is to divide/A lie that’s told a thousand times/Becomes a truth to wash you blind.” Viix’s final, deathly blasé “Wake up! Or just shut up” is the perfect kick in the teeth to all obsessed scrollers – you know who you are.
“Burn It Down,” on the other hand, excels in part because of Vixx’s skill in interpreting and inhabiting the lyrics. It certainly doesn’t lack musically, either, rooted in Baz’ shimmery, slinky melody that introduces each verse and the solo section (one also notable for some more of Steve’s terrific bass and great cymbal work from Vic). A tale of a life misspent, of being one’s own worst enemy, she’s weary and distanced in the first two verses – “My life feels like a suicide/My heart it goes astray/I reach the depth of pure delight/And I burn it down again” in the first and “I don’t think God’s on my side/And Daddy, he’s ashamed” in the second. But when she repeats the second verse at the end, her tone is completely different – she’s agonized, almost horrified, at herself – like now, she cares. Her final repetition of “Set my soul free” is wrenching, like I tried to stop, but here I go again.
Every band like Black Roze has to have a power ballad, and “Footprints In The Sand” is theirs. But far from being trite or melodramatic, this is a lovely little musing on loss, set to Baz’ tender, chiming guitar. Viix is sweet, vulnerable, and melancholy here in verses that ponder how we try to recover when someone passes. The chorus is filled with poignant imagery; the idea of the “footprints in the sand,” the “shadows on the wall,” is that these are remnants, things that are left behind, just like our memories. And when Viix admits, “I don’t feel like walking tall,” she speaks for anyone who’s tried to be strong but finds that sometimes, you just can’t do it any more. Her last solo take on the first part of the chorus is quietly resigned and quite moving.
“Kix” is along the lines of “Hit Me Up,” about the joys of live rock ‘n’ roll – pretty self-explanatory, but made terrific by a chugging, bottom-laden riff that segues into a loose, swaggering, swinging groove loaded with attitude. Good times.
“Not Your Whore (Anymore)” is kiss-off central, directed at a roaming Lothario who comes crawling back, but Viix will have none of it – “you can’t touch this no more,” she spits. Full of notable touches, like Baz’ terse guitar melody underlaid by Steve’s tense bass and an effective punchy pause in the chorus, the album’s first single hit number one on the Amazon rock charts, as did the title track – and for good reason.
The closer, “Poison Voices,” is a creepy little thing, hectic in the choruses, then slower and more chilling in the verses. Viix is in full sobbing cry at the start of each verse in what seems to be a look at mental illness – by the end of each one, though, the madness has set in. Her deadpan treatment of lines like “In the dark spaces of my head/Voices chant, you’d be better off dead” and “Sitting in your nice warm bath/Can you remember your last laugh?/Seducing me with shiny blades, not tonight” is completely – and perfectly – unnerving and unsettling and unforgettable.
And the bonus track “Curse of the Black Roze Pt. 2” is a great example of their range and versatility, with its loose groove and almost ‘50’s sound, emphasized by acoustic guitar strumming throughout. It’s a low-key little tongue-in-cheek fantasy piece that plays on Viix’s surname, Glyn-Jones, in the chorus; her voice is a throaty burble in the verses, delicate and quavering in the chorus, where Baz rumbles along with her at times. It’s warm and a bit haunting and altogether cool.
“Penny For Your Sins” is a rousing sophomore success, a textbook case of learning from your mistakes and, rather than getting discouraged, producing something excellent. 
(5 / 5)
