Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. This retrospective series hasn’t just served as an outlet for me to revisit the best hard and heavy albums of yesteryear, or to show off obscure pieces of my collection (Good luck finding an OG press of Strappado!), but also as a platform for me to defend albums that have been wrongfully trashed for far too long. Such is the case with today’s album; an album that is not only regarded as a creative failure by the masses, but by the band themselves. I’m talking about Judas Priest’s Point of Entry, and I’m also going to be talking about why they’re wrong. Yes, even the Metal God himself, Rob Halford, can be wrong from time to time. Dare I be put on trail for heresy? This week’s essay will examine the circumstances surrounding Point of Entry, what makes it great, and why it’s far from the worst album in Priest’s catalog. Read on Hot Rockers!
The story of Judas Priest up until 1981 is one that almost every self-respecting headbanger knows. After a rough start professionally and creatively with 1974’s Rocka Rolla, the band spent the latter half of the 70s forging traditional metal as we know it. The writing, musicianship, and production of Sad Wings of Destiny (1976), Sin After Sin (1977), and Stained Class (1978) were nothing short of revolutionary, pushing metal further than Sabbath, Purple, or Heep could’ve ever imagined. Killing Machine (1978) was a far more streamlined effort in comparison, but still chock full of classics, which brings us to the 80s.
After a decade of playing sweaty clubs, getting screwed ever by suits, and attempting to establish credibility among the masses, Judas Priest finally broke worldwide in 1980 with the release of British Steel. Specifically, they broke in America. “Breaking the Law” and “Living After Midnight” became massive FM rock radio hits overnight, and their respective videos crossed over to MTV when the format was in its infancy. It was this slicker, sleeker, user-friendly approach that would shape the direction of their seventh album, Point of Entry.
You have to keep in mind that while metal dominated the charts in England, it had not crossed over to America yet, commercially speaking at least. The FM airwaves were ruled by the likes of Styx, Foreigner, REO Speedwagon, Journey, and so on: Bands that played hard enough to win over the rockers, but peppered in enough catchy melodies to lure the preps. Make no mistake, all of these bands had their metal moments, but you sure weren’t going to hear them on the radio (Exhibit A). Yet here in “Breaking the Law” and “Living After Midnight” were two bona fide metal songs that found their way into the mainstream. From a business standpoint, it only made sense that Columbia wondered, “How do we expand upon this?”
Look, I’m not saying Columbia told Priest to make an entire album modeled off of “Breaking the Law” and “Living After Midnight”, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had. Point of Entry relies so heavily on radio-safe tropes that it has since become branded as Priest’s “hard rock album”. Halford and other band members have dismissed Point as an inaccurate portrait of Priest. After all, they are the metal gods, not the hard rock gods. However, I disagree with this assessment. Point of Entry is an inaccurate portrayal of Priest overall, yes, but an accurate portrayal of Priest at that exact moment in time. Let’s examine, shall we?
For all their years of hard work and the commercial success of British Steel, Columbia threw a bone Priest’s way. Instead of recording in the humble conditions of their English homeland, Priest would record album #7 in beautiful Spain. I can’t help but think this change of scenery impacted the final outcome of Point of Entry greatly. The whole album exudes, not just the feelgood hedonism that would become synonymous with mainstream metal in a few year’s time, but a joyful exuberance and radiant light that come with the territory of being in a land as beautiful as Spain.
Point of Entry opens with one of the greatest driving songs ever written, “Heading Out to the Highway”. If there’s any song on this album that Priest will stand up for, it’s this one. Granted, if it came out an album or two earlier, I’m convinced the tempo would be double, but Priest keeps it safe for ’81 with a steady hard rocking beat. Everything about this cut is perfection, from the uplifting lyrics and anthemic chorus, to the massive riffs and badass twin guitar lines. It’s no wonder that “Heading Out to the Highway” instantly became a rock radio smash, making its way up the then new Billboard Mainstream Rock chart and becoming an early MTV regular.
“Highway” is followed by an oft-forgotten gem in Priest’s catalog, “Don’t Go”. Whereas “Highway” can be categorized as one of the few metal cuts on here for its guitarwork alone, “Don’t Go” is a straightaway hard rocker reminiscent of Pat Benatar. That may seem like an odd comparison, but once you listen closely to the alternation between the soft verses and big chorus, lyrics chronicling a love gone awry, and even Halford’s vocal cadence, you won’t be able to unhear it. Contrasting this is the heaviest cut on the album, “Hot Rockin'”. Although the video is a bit, as the kids would say, “sus”, the song is a no frills, full speed ahead headbanger that foreshadows the direction Priest would take come Screaming for Vengeance (1982) and Defenders of the Faith (1984).
Side A continues with one of many stylistic quirks exclusive to the era, “Turning Circles”. If “Don’t Go” is the Benatar song, then “Turning Circles” is the white-boy reggae rock song. Yes kids, for some reason or another, there was a brief window of time in which rock bands tried their hand at reggae. Scorpions did it with “Is There Anybody There?” on Lovedrive (1979). KISS did it with “Naked City” on Unmasked (1980). Priest did it with “Turning Circles” on Point of Entry. There were other acts of the era who tried it as well. By comparison, Priest’s attempt is certainly one of the better ones. “Turning Circles” is a fun rocker that always puts a smile on my face and gets me singing along.
Closing out the album’s first half is its creative tour de force, “Desert Plains”. With all due respect to “Highway” and “Hot Rockin'”, both classics in their own right, neither touch the musical brilliance of “Desert Plains”. This is one of those musical timepieces in which melody and atmosphere collide to create something otherworldly, similar in approach to what Blue Öyster Cult was doing at the time with Fire of Unknown Origin (1981). I’m shocked Columbia didn’t even think of releasing this as a single. I’m certain it would’ve crossed over to the pop market. Although far from a “hit” per se, “Desert Plains” has since become a fan favorite and is featured in Priests setlists to this day.
As we flip over to side B, things take a turn for the interesting. “Solar Angels” opens this second half in epic, monolithic fashion. It’s a simple song upon first glance, but boasts that huge, brooding sense of domination heard on British Steel with “Metal Gods”. I wouldn’t go so far to call “Solar Angels” a sequel to “Metal Gods”, as it stands on its own, but there’s definitely shared DNA. And then there’s “You Say Yes”. Look, I’m not going to go as far as others and label it “the worst Priest song”, but it’s definitely the weakest link on an otherwise strong (yeah, you read that correctly) album. I’m usually one for a quirky, poppy rock n’ roller, but it’s the repetitive lyrics and arrangement that kills this one for me.
Making up for this disappointment is another song that gets regularly trashed, “All the Way”. I know I’m in the minority here when I say this one absolutely smokes. Is it on the godly level of “Desert Plains”? Absolutely not, but it sounds more like KISS than what KISS was putting out at the time. Yes, I know. KISS should sound like KISS and Priest should sound like Priest, but goddamn to sleazy riffs and sleazier lyrics sound good on Priest! Seriously, if this one doesn’t make you want to party like it’s a Friday night, you might just be devoid of soul.
“Troubleshooter” sees the band attempting the midtempo Benatar hard rock formula showcased earlier on “Don’t Go”, and largely succeeding. Again, simplicity reigns supreme, especially during the chorus of “You can’t break me. You can’t shake me.” Yeah, I’m sure it took more than 10 minutes to come up with that line *sarcasm intensifies*. Closing it all out is a song that channels the 70s boogie undertones of “Rock Forever”, “On the Run”. Much like “Highway”, I can’t help but wonder if this one would’ve been faster if it were on any other Priest album before or after.
So how did Point of Entry do? It wasn’t a complete failure. The album managed to go gold here in the States, and score one solid hit in “Heading Out to the Highway”. It did, however, turn off many fans who felt it was a step in the wrong direction. Priest took note and retreated back in the metal direction for their 1982 blockbuster, Screaming for Vengeance. Hard rock? Leave it to AC/DC, Aerosmith, and the Nuge. Metal was Priest’s lane and they were bound to stay in it. With that said, is Point of Entry the “worst” Priest album? If “You Say Yes, I say no”. Clichés aside, I still consider it a stronger album than Turbo (1986), Ram It Down (1988), and the Ripper Owens era. Feel free to fight me in the comments. I’m “Heading Out”.