Metal so true it circles back around to satire, but tragically isn’t.
I dared to summon the self-proclaimed Kings of Metal.
Manowar—A band that doesn’t just play music—they issue proclamations, wield swords, and apparently explode speakers with the sheer power of True Metal.
What started as casual genre tourism turned into a full-blown blacksmithing apprenticeship. I came looking for riffs. I left with questions, bruised ears, and a playlist that includes Metal Daze, somehow.
Where loincloth meets lightning
Manowar formed in 1980, birthed in the backstage fumes of a Black Sabbath tour. Joey DeMaio (bass tech) and Ross "The Boss" Friedman (support band guitarist) were allegedly nudged together by Ronnie James Dio himself, and honestly, that checks out. Throw in vocalist Eric Adams and drummer Donnie Hamzik, and boom: the prophecy begins.
From the start, Manowar were different.
Not musically, necessarily—they drew from NWOBHM and traditional heavy metal—but aesthetically. They showed up to the metal party in fur boots, loincloths, oiled pecs, and an entire chest-thumping mythology about "true" vs "false" metal.
They were louder, more dramatic, and infinitely more shirtless than everyone else.
And they took themselves so seriously.
Too seriously.
Like, "this is a sacred brotherhood forged in bass solos and chest hair" seriously.
The one time subtlety was stabbed to death
Kings of Metal (1988) is their best-selling album—and for good reason. It distills the entire Manowar ideology into a single fist-pumping declaration:
| Other bands play, Manowar kill.
It’s everything they are: loud, ridiculous, overconfident, and somehow still kind of charming. Like a motivational poster made of steel and testosterone.
They are not joking.
They are never joking.
And that’s what makes it so hard to look away.
| Manowar Manowar living on the road
| When we're in town speakers explode
| We don't attract wimps 'cause we're too loud
| Just true metal people that's Manowar's crowd
| They want to keep us down
| But they can't last
| When we get up we're gonna kick your ass
| Gonna keep on burnin'
| We always will
| Other bands play, Manowar kill
Ross the Boss—and the "true metal" era
Before diving into Kings of Metal, I started where the legend supposedly begins: the so-called golden age of Manowar—their first six albums from 1982 to 1988, all with guitarist Ross "The Boss" Friedman.
Eric Adams and Joey DeMaio have been the high priests of True Metal since 1980, but Ross helped forge the early sound—and was dramatically booted from the band in 1989. Whether that was a power move or a tragic betrayal, I’ll let the fan forums decide.
Many still treat those six albums (Battle Hymns through Kings of Metal) as heavy metal scripture. So that’s where I began my descent. Into the fur-lined madness.
Songs that slapped me into a chest-thumping trance
Against all odds, a few tracks did win me over.
-
Battle Hymn
From their debut Battle Hymns (1982). It's surprisingly good. Raw, but grand. The bass tone hits like a war horse charging into a foggy battlefield.
Eric Adams? Fully committed. Four-octave madman. -
Metal Daze
So dumb. So fun. Feels like it was written on a napkin in a biker bar at 2am. I love it. -
Warriors of the World
It’s slow. It’s simple. It’s the national anthem of guys who wear leather pants to breakfast.
And it still gives me goosebumps.
Try and listen to this without raising your fist. You can’t. -
The Gods Made Heavy Metal
This one lives somewhere between hard rock and motivational speech.
It’s silly. It’s shouty. It works.
But then the spell wore off
Unfortunately, beyond those handful of bangers, most of the discography is—a slog.
Repetitive. Clunky. Lyrically absurd.
Let’s talk about the lyrics. Because honestly, a lot of the time?
They kill the song. Dead.
There’s only so many references to "raping women in battle" and swords described as "slick like young maidens in their prime" before you stop headbanging and start blinking in horror.
It’s not edgy. It’s not powerful. It’s just gross.
And sure, you could argue "it’s the genre," or "it’s fantasy," or some other tired excuse—but I’m not here for that.
I’m too much of a feminist to pretend this isn’t deeply uncomfortable macho bullshit.
And Manowar leans into it hard.
It’s not just about battle anthems and fantasy lore—it’s about a very specific, very exclusionary, very oiled-up idea of what “real” metal is. And who gets to belong in it.
And spoiler: it’s not women.
In conclusion: mixed feelings, raised fists
Manowar is a paradox.
They’re the band equivalent of a leather-bound novel written entirely in caps lock.
But sometimes, when the tempo drops and the choir swells?
They absolutely nail it.
And for that—and only that—I’ll allow a place for them on the playlist.
Other bands play. Manowar—occasionally kill.
With caveats.
Suprisingly - this has been it from Manowar for me. Like I said, the rest of the songs mostly bore me and often the lyrics kill the song for me. There is just too much mention of raping women in battle and slick swords like young maidens in their prime. I guess I am too much of a feminist to be able to overlook the machoism and the fact that Manowar promote a pretty specific image of women.