"Strength of Steel" (1987) Album Description:
Some records don’t politely ask for your attention — they grab you by the collar, point at the cover, and basically say: “Yeah, we meant it.” Anvil’s "Strength of Steel" lands in 1987 as their 10th studio album, and it sounds like a band that’s survived the road, the noise, and the fashion crimes of the era… and came out swinging anyway.
1) Introduction on the band and the album
This is Anvil doing what Anvil does best: turning hard-hitting riffs and catchy choruses into something that feels like a late-night rehearsal room packed with sweat, stubborn pride, and amps that probably needed a fire permit.
The vibe is simple and glorious: heavy metal with a grin that’s half battle-face, half “we’re still here, deal with it.” The album even wears its identity on the sleeve — literally — with that barbell-of-anvils cover screaming work, weight, and willpower.
2) Historical and cultural context
1987 was one of those metal years where everything was loud at once: glossy big-stage hooks were everywhere, thrash was getting sharper teeth, and traditional heavy metal had to fight for oxygen in a crowded room.
And here’s the fun twist: this page documents a Netherlands release (Roadrunner RR 9618), which is the perfect setting for a record that feels built for Europe’s appetite for no-nonsense heavy metal — the kind you play when you’re not in the mood for subtlety or compromise.
3) How the band came to record this album
By the time a band is on album number ten, you don’t get “fresh and nervous” anymore — you get battle-tested. Anvil wrote this material as a unit (with one outside curveball in the tracklist), and you can feel that stubborn togetherness in how tight the songs lock in.
The recording story is clean and direct: it was recorded and mixed at Quest Recording Studios in Oshawa, with Paul "Dr. Snow" Lachapelle engineering, and the band itself co-producing the whole thing. Translation: no safety rails, no polite distance — they’re in the engine room, steering the ship.
4) The sound, songs, and musical direction
Sonically, "Strength of Steel" is all about momentum: riffs that move like industrial machinery, choruses designed to be yelled back at the speakers, and drums that hit like a door being kicked open at the exact wrong moment (which is, obviously, the best moment).
The opener "Strength of Steel" is a declaration of intent — not poetic, not shy, just raise the volume and don’t overthink it. "Concrete Jungle" stretches out and flexes, while "9-2-5" snaps like a pissed-off timecard getting ripped in half.
Then you get titles like "I Dreamed it was the end of the World" and "Paper General", which bring in that very 80s flavor of big themes delivered with a street-level punch. And tossing in "Wild Eyes" (credited outside the band) adds a little sideways glance — like Anvil reminding you they can curve the ball without dropping the weight.
5) Comparison to other albums in the same genre/year
Put this next to other big 1987 records and you can hear what Anvil is refusing to become. They’re not chasing polish for its own sake — they’re chasing impact, sweat, and replay value.
- Anthrax – "Among the Living": faster and meaner, but Anvil leans more into anthem-weight and straight-ahead muscle.
- Helloween – "Keeper of the Seven Keys Part I": soaring and melodic; Anvil stays grounded, like boots on a concrete stage.
- Def Leppard – "Hysteria": stadium gloss for days; Anvil answers with grit, grin, and a fistful of riffs.
6) Controversies or public reactions
This page doesn’t flag any big scandal or public meltdown around the album, which honestly feels on-brand: Anvil’s controversy is usually just being loudly, stubbornly Anvil when the world keeps trying to rename the rules.
7) Band dynamics and creative tensions
The lineup here reads like a working unit, not a revolving door: Steve "Lips" Kudlow fronting with lead vocals and lead guitar, Dave Allison adding vocals and rhythm bite, Ian Dickson holding the low end, and Robb Reiner driving the whole thing.
And the best little human tell is hiding in plain sight: the fan club address for the ANVIL Metal Pounders Union (666). That’s not just a joke — it’s a signal flare saying, “We know who we are, and we know who you are.”
8) Critical reception and legacy
The page calls this album a cult classic, and that tracks with how these records age: maybe not the loudest in the mainstream conversation, but weirdly immortal in collector circles, where riffs matter more than trends.
Decades later, the appeal is still simple: this is heavy metal that doesn’t beg for approval. It shows up, plugs in, and does the job — and somehow that honesty hits harder every year.
9) Reflective closing paragraph
When I pull this sleeve out, I’m not chasing perfection — I’m chasing that feeling of a band turning raw effort into something you can actually hold. Drop the needle and it still sounds like beer, sweat, and misplaced optimism… forged into a chorus you can shout back at life.
