Released on August 8, 2000, Resurrection is not just an album—it’s a thunderous proclamation from the mountaintop that the Metal God has returned. After years exploring different musical directions through Fight and the industrial-leaning 2wo, Rob Halford reignited his legacy with a solo debut that felt like both a return to roots and a fearless leap forward. Resurrection doesn’t just nod to the glory days of heavy metal—it drags them screaming into a new millennium with renewed fire and fury.
This wasn’t a man revisiting the past. It was a man reclaiming his throne.
In a time when many classic metal acts were either softening their sound or chasing commercial trends, Resurrection planted its flag firmly in the soil of pure, undiluted heavy metal. Equal parts celebration and battle cry, it bridged the gap between old-school power and modern aggression. If metal had ever lost its way in the '90s, Halford reminded everyone where it came from—and where it damn well belongs.
Back in Black Leather: A Statement of Purpose
The opening title track, “Resurrection,” is a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. From the very first scream—a blood-curdling, pitch-perfect Halford banshee wail—the listener is pulled into the storm. The riff is a steamroller, the rhythm unrelenting, and Halford’s vocal delivery is electrifying. This is not the sound of a legacy artist easing back into relevance—it’s the sound of someone blowing the doors off the hinges and daring you to doubt them.
“Made in Hell” follows as a self-mythologizing anthem that traces Halford’s life through metal’s golden age. “I was born to raise hell!” he declares over galloping guitars and pounding double-kick drums. It’s a celebration not just of his personal history, but of the entire metal movement—complete with nods to Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and the rise of the genre from the British underground to global dominance.
Tracks like “Locked and Loaded” and “Drive” dig into a heavier, more groove-driven pocket—offering crunchier riffs and a more modern weight, while still drenched in Halford’s unmistakable melodic phrasing. There’s a swagger to these songs, a confidence that never feels forced. They showcase the band’s ability to blend traditional metal with contemporary bite.
Screams, Shadows, and Showstoppers
If the first half of Resurrection is about reclaiming power, the second half is where Halford flexes his dynamic range—and emotional depth.
“Silent Screams” stands tall as the album’s emotional and sonic centerpiece. It begins with a haunting acoustic intro—delicate, fragile, almost mournful—before erupting into a towering chorus of pain, defiance, and redemption. The song builds slowly, layering textures until it explodes with blistering guitar leads and one of Halford’s most impassioned vocal performances. It’s operatic. It’s tragic. It’s triumphant. This isn’t just one of the best songs on the album—it’s one of the finest in Halford’s entire catalog.
Then there’s the legendary duet, “The One You Love to Hate,” featuring none other than Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden. It’s the stuff of metal dreams—two of the greatest voices in the genre snarling, soaring, and harmonizing over a blistering, razor-edged riff. There’s a playful menace to the track, a tongue-in-cheek theatricality that makes it instantly memorable. It’s a meeting of titans that actually lives up to the hype.
“Nightfall” brings things back to a darker, more shadowed realm. The song has an eerie, doom-laced vibe with slow-burning riffs and a haunted atmosphere. Halford’s delivery here is subtle and sinister, offering a glimpse into his more dramatic, almost gothic sensibilities.
“Cyberworld” injects a shot of high-octane energy near the album’s close. With its sci-fi themes and breakneck pacing, it plays like a futuristic metal blitzkrieg—a reminder that Halford isn’t just looking back, but forward. The band shifts gears effortlessly, keeping the album’s second half as thrilling and aggressive as the first.
“Saviour,” the closer, doesn’t end with a bang—but with a slow burn. It's an emotionally resonant, mid-tempo track that pulls from the classic Priest playbook of anthemic, fist-clenching finales. It's a slow, almost spiritual comedown—a final bow from a band that knows they’ve just laid waste to any doubts.
The Band Behind the God: Musicianship That Elevates
While Halford’s voice is undeniably the engine of Resurrection, the album’s impact wouldn’t be as potent without the incredible band surrounding him.
Guitarists Mike Chlasciak (Metal Mike) and Patrick Lachman form a lethal duo, balancing blazing solos with beefy rhythm work that gives the album its muscular backbone. Whether chugging through galloping triplets or unleashing shred-heavy leads, they understand the assignment: honor tradition, but bring the fire.
Ray Riendeau’s bass playing adds depth without unnecessary flair—locking in tightly with Bobby Jarzombek’s drums to create a rock-solid foundation. Jarzombek, in particular, shines throughout. His drumming is tight, creative, and punishing, delivering explosive fills without ever distracting from the song.
Producer Roy Z, known for his work with Bruce Dickinson and Helloween, brings clarity and power to the mix. The production is modern without being sterile, allowing every instrument room to breathe while maintaining the sonic density of classic metal. It’s loud. It’s layered. And it hits exactly where it should—right in the chest.
Halford the Frontman: Reigniting the Flame
If Resurrection proves anything beyond a doubt, it’s that Rob Halford remains one of the greatest frontmen in heavy metal history. His voice is as sharp, flexible, and electrifying as ever—capable of shifting from guttural growls to glass-shattering screams with ease. But more than the mechanics, it’s the spirit behind the voice that defines the album.
There’s something deeply human in Halford’s performance. Yes, he’s the Metal God—but he’s also the survivor, the outcast, and the rebel. The man who helped shape the genre is now looking back not just with pride, but with purpose. Resurrection isn’t just a reentry into the scene. It’s a rallying cry for anyone who’s ever felt like they were on the outside looking in.
Final Verdict: 9.5/10
Resurrection is a near-perfect heavy metal album—and one of the most essential releases of its era. It’s a stunning return to form for Rob Halford, who reminds the world not just of where metal came from, but why it still matters. Fierce, passionate, and unrelentingly powerful, this album bridges generations with its blend of classic sensibilities and modern punch.
For fans of Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio, or anyone who believes heavy metal should be loud, proud, and alive—this is required listening. More than two decades later, Resurrection still hits like a thunderbolt: crisp, cathartic, and absolutely uncompromising.
In a world that often turns its back on tradition, Halford embraced it with open arms—and gave it new life. Resurrection is exactly what the title suggests. Not just a return. A rebirth.
