Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. This week, we revisit how the second split of one of metal’s pioneering bands led to one of the finest 90s traditional metal/hard rock albums you’ve likely never heard of, Toolbox by Gillan. Upon its October, 1991 release, Ian Gillan was 46 years old and long regarded as the archetypal metal singer, paving the way for Halford, Dickinson, King Diamond, and everyone in between. Unfortunately, with death metal on the rise and thrash and glam enjoying their last hurrah, few were even aware of Toolbox’s release, let alone paid attention to it. To make matters worse, it was never properly released in America and remains so to this day. That’s pretty damn criminal for the singer of a band who sold upwards of 5 million units stateside in their early 70s prime. In today’s essay, we explore the circumstances that led up to Toolbox, what makes it great, and why you should drop a pretty penny for an import copy.
We all know the story of Deep Purple’s triumphant ’84 reunion. Between Whitesnake and Gillan’s failure to crack the American market (the former needed a few more years), and Rainbow *ahem* falling out of favor (as opposed to “rising”), the time had come for the now middle aged members of Purple to reunite, subsequently collecting the biggest paycheck of their lives. A sold-out world tour ensued, leading to multiple nights at nearly every major city arena in America. So did the brilliant Perfect Strangers, which remains the definitive metal reunion album nearly 40 years on. And Deep Purple lived happily ever after…just kidding.
After a few years of endless touring, the reunion started to unravel just as quickly as it came together. 1987’s The House of Blue Light had its shining moments, but by and large paled in comparison to Perfect Strangers. Whereas Perfect Strangers was the sound of a band hungry to recapture the fire of their heyday, House felt like a half-assed rehash of its predecessor, the same way Who Do We Think We Are? feels when put next to Machine Head. A co-headline tour with fellow 70s rockers Bad Company followed, before Gillan jumped ship in 1989.
1990 wasn’t a good year for Purple or their former singer. The now Joe Lynn Turner fronted Purple released Slaves and Masters to virtually zero fanfare. Sure, the lush AOR of “King of Dreams” found its way onto rock radio playlists, but it sounded less like Purple and more like early 80s Rainbow. In fact, the whole album sounded like a throwback to early 80s Rainbow, which deterred many diehards expecting a return to the virtuosic, raging early metal of yesteryear. Gillan, meanwhile, managed to sink even lower than his old band with the painfully formulaic Naked Thunder. “Gut Reaction” and a few other songs are of note, but by and large, this album is for completists only.
Fast forward a year later and Gillan returned eager to wash away the sour taste of Naked Thunder and House from his fanbase’s collective mouth. The result was Toolbox. Armed with a killer band and a collection of back to basics rockers, Toolbox was a valiant attempt at recapturing the glory of Purple, and even the singer’s namesake post-Purple band for that matter. In other words, if you’re looking for hooky riffs, flashy soloing, and eardrum shattering shrieks, you’ve come to the right place. Toolbox has it all and more.
Toolbox opens with the heavy boogie rockin’ of “Hang Me Out to Dry”. Boasting the untouchable swagger of Fireball era Purple and some downright tasty soloing courtesy of Mountain man and fellow metal architect Leslie West, “Hang Me Out to Dry” is a commanding opener that sets the stage for this high octane outing. If “Hang Me Out to Dry” captures the musical intricacies of Fireball, then the title track captures the brute force of Deep Purple in Rock. The entire band fires on all cylinders, with former Y&T drummer Leonard Haze doing his best Ian Paice impersonation and Gillan unleashing the first of many lethal screams. The addition of 80s traditional metal tropes in the arrangement and guitar playing (something we’ll see a lot on here) only further strengthens the song.
“Dirty Dog” proves that slow and heavy wins the race with its murky riffs and pissed off grooves. These tropes, coupled with Gillan’s explosive vocals, are eerily similar to Soundgarden’s Badmotorfinger released the same year. Perhaps it was just the times. Outside of Black Sabbath’s “Zero the Hero”, this is the closest we hear Gillan get to stoner/doom/sludge territory. If you can think of any other Purple/IGB/Gillan moments in this vein, feel free to drop them in the comment section as I’d love to be proven wrong. Contrasting this is the full throttle trad. metal blitz of “Candy Horizon”. Musically, this lies closer to Priest or Maiden than any of Gillan’s past endeavors, and he absolutely destroys. Despite his veteran status, Gillan could belt it out with the best of them.
Closing out side A is a power ballad done right, “Don’t Hold Me Back”. Whereas the mellow moments on Naked Thunder were largely subdued and cliché, this heavy AOR epic is full of emotion and power. Its balance of soft verses and heavy choruses, haunting melodies, and Gillan’s desperate cries of, “Don’t hold me baaaaacccckkkk!!!” are nothing short of chilling. I usually don’t prefer a ballad as an album closer, but in this case, “Don’t Hold Me Back” would’ve made a better closer than what we ended up getting (more on that later).
As we flip over to side B, we’re greeted by what is hands down the strongest moment on this album, and one of the strongest moments of Gillan’s career for that matter, “Pictures of Hell”. If “Candy Horizon” was Gillan going Priest/Maiden mode, then “Pictures of Hell” was a high speed dash into Mercyful Fate/King Diamond territory. Whether or not this was intentional is up for debate, but holy shit, Gillan’s vocals on here are downright sinister, and so is the accompanying song. I could listen to “this song “Pictures of Hell” on repeat for hours on end, volume knob turned all the way right and my stereo absolutely obliterating my face. But alas, we have 5 more songs to cover.
“Dancing Nylon Shirt (Part 1)” turns the dial down a notch from unforgiving metal to ballsy hard rock. The riffs have an almost sleazy Zeppelin/Humble Pie quality to them, which is quite unusual considering Purple was far more sophisticated than both of these bands. Could Gillan have fronted a band of this nature? He sure could’ve, and he still would’ve hit it out of the ballpark. “Bed of Nails” keeps the hard rockin’ mood going, albeit with the gnarly boogieing tendencies of the opening “Hang Me Out to Dry”. Take note kiddies: This is hard rock done oh so right.
“Gassed Up” sees Gillan go all-out trad metal mode one last time. Considering he’s been singing these double-bass driven ragers since the days of “Highway Star”, “Speed King”, “Fireball”, etc., “Gassed Up” is right up his alley without sounding like a mere rehash. Guitarist Steve Morris plays with far more finesse than Blackmore since Perfect Strangers, which is another common theme of this release. “Everything I Need”, one of the more conventional songs on this outing, then dials us back to hard rock again. It’s rather straightforward and by the numbers in comparison to most of this album; not bad, but certainly not a grand slam either. It is, however, stronger than the closing “Dancing Nylon Shirt (Part 2)”.
Did we really need to hear Gillan sing-rap over a beat reminiscent of Celtic Frost’s “One in Their Pride”? Absolutely not. If you can get past the first 2 minutes of this dud, you’ll be treated to a hard rockin’ jam finale, but it doesn’t salvage the song itself. “Everything I Need” would’ve been a perfectly fine closer. “Don’t Hold Me Back” would’ve been an even better closer, but I digress. One misstep aside, it doesn’t ruin what is an otherwise killer album bordering on perfection.
Despite his best musical efforts, Toolbox did virtually nothing commercially. A euro tour for the album was well attended, but the Purple and Gillan glory days of the 70s and 80s were now a thing of the past. It wasn’t long before Gillan was back again in Purple, for whom he’s been fronting ever since. Things would come to a head again in ’93, only this time Ritchie Blackmore left. Perhaps one day we’ll examine his post-Purple revenge album, Rainbow’s Stranger in Us All, in a future entry of this series. Until then, dive deep into the Toolbox and don’t hurt yourself!