Axe Dragger

Recently, I came across an interview with Terry Glaze in which he encouraged fans to revisit the first three Pantera albums—Metal Magic, Projects in the Jungle, and I Am the Night—to appreciate the early talent of Darrell Abbott. This, of course, is the “Diamond” Darrell era, long before the emergence of “Dimebag” Darrell and the genre-defining Pantera of the 1990s and early 2000s. Glaze even offered a self-aware caveat: there’s real musical substance to be found, provided you can look past his glam-era vocals.

That comment sent me back to those records—and down a rabbit hole to see what Glaze himself has been up to. That journey leads us to the debut album from Axe Dragger.

On paper, this lineup feels almost improbable. Alongside Glaze are Bob Balch of Fu Manchu, former Pentagram drummer Pete Campbell, and Dark Funeral bassist Fredrik Isaksson. The promotional material promises a sound “soaked in the soaring ’80s metal spirit of titans like Riot, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio, and Armored Saint,” enhanced with modern weight and production. It’s bold, almost grandiose language—but does Axe Dragger actually deliver?

For fans of classic metal, the answer is a resounding yes.

This is old-school metal done right: riff-driven, hook-laden, and unapologetically heavy, yet never a hollow imitation of its influences. The production gives the album a rich, full-bodied sound—modern in clarity, but rooted firmly in traditional metal sensibilities. Tracks like “Give You the Rope” and “El Toro” charge forward with galloping riffs and momentum straight out of the Riot and Armored Saint playbook. Meanwhile, the title track and “The Damned Will Cry” lean into a sludgier, doom-tinged stomp, evoking shades of Dio-era Sabbath and even modern Dio offshoot acts like Resurrection Kings, Dream Child, or Heaven & Hell.

At the center of it all, Bob Balch delivers a consistently powerful, riff-centric performance, anchoring each track with a thick, weighty guitar tone. Isaksson and Campbell form a tight, precise rhythm section, adding both heft and a subtly dark atmosphere that gives the album its distinctive edge.

And then there’s Terry Glaze.

Is this really the same vocalist from the “Glamtera” era?

The transformation is striking. Gone entirely is the high-pitched, flamboyant delivery of his early years—no trace of “Ride My Rocket” antics here. In its place is a confident, grounded baritone with just enough grit to complement the album’s darker, heavier tone. Glaze still reaches for higher notes when needed, but now they’re delivered with control and authority rather than the thin falsetto that defined Pantera’s formative period. Simply put, this is the strongest vocal performance of his career—even surpassing his work with Lord Tracy.

Despite the varied backgrounds of its members, Axe Dragger comes together as a remarkably cohesive unit. The album presents a compelling take on classic metal, filtered through a slightly darker, weightier lens. Naturally, it invites a bit of “what if” speculation—what might have been if Glaze had remained with Pantera and pursued a direction like this? That’s a question for another universe.

What matters here is the present—and Axe Dragger delivers the goods. Here’s hoping this isn’t a one-off, because this is some seriously kickass metal.