Listening to Diamond Head’s most enduring of epics (although forgive the mild misnomer “epic” as it happens to be under 5 minutes long), offers the chance to discuss exactly why Stourbridge’s hairiest, most underground rockers never quite grasped the glittering prize of major league renown. As the title track of 1983’s critically mixed Canterbury swaps range from the minor chords of a solemn solo piano which unfurls the sanctity of a cold gloomy cathedral atmosphere, into the kind of fable from which rockers take on the expected duty of patching the narrative into a metal recitation of Beowulf, Diamond Head’s astonishing versatility thus becomes their beacon and albatross in one foul swoop.

Sean Harris wasn’t one to undermine his own dynamic capabilities. It’s Electric from the group’s acne-laden days found Harris’s vocals tipping the hat to the punks Diamond Head did not shirk from acknowledging. Am I Evil equally known and stymied by Metal’s uber-megalomaniacs M******** forfeits the yawn-inducing array of distortion pedals, working as much in harmony with Thin Lizzy’s darker fancies as it did with the trash metal it inspired. His multi-tasking was as vigorous on the fret-boards, even supporting Brian Tatler’s dive-bomber runs from time to time. On lyrical duties Harris could often leave a stadium full to be desired though, Sucking My Love a cringing example of why the band’s versatile nuances weren’t always for the greater good. Tatler does a great impression of Tony Iommi circa 1971/2, Sean sees Justin Hawkins in the crystal ball that comes free with all 1980s metal starter packs, and beats him to rather limp punch. Never mind.

Canterbury could’ve been Diamond Head‘s meal ticket. For all the album’s well-intended failures, the title track is ironically something that could have benefited from being at least 10 minutes long, the piano dignified, yet pushy, elegant, even spooky, Tatler’s influx of ascending chords then preach from a different script, one very few from outside the old-school even really pin down with real success. That stinging Flying V and Marshall combo is sorely missed from rock these days. Get the picture now? Good. But it still needs to be asked that was their eclecticism actually their downfall? Just bare in mind that MCA Records were the completely wrong label for a band still in their relative infancy. Sounding like Def Leppard in places (admittedly in Elliot and co’s somewhat worthwhile early incarnation) and Megadeth elsewhere, Canterbury as a whole doesn’t really deviate significantly from much of the magic formula the group played around with before, perhaps the restless urge to be a collosal sum of their parts was just a step too far as early into their careers as 1983.

Many of those in opposition back then can take heart from a track like Canterbury though, leading the way for hard rock/metal instead of pleasing L.A. decadence, the lyrical content turns its nose up at sword and sorcery temptations, where Harris ventures back to the days of pre-Gothic intrigue when faced with the alternative horrors of spandex fetishes 20 years on from 1983. Ignore the mass of inferior pop-rock and trash metal numbskulls who name check Diamond Head as if somehow it was the West Midlands group who owed them for the recognition. They’re worth a lot more than that kind of condescending homage.