"Burn to My Touch" (1987) Album Description:
1. Introduction on the band and the album
"Burn to My Touch" is Liege Lord at that delicious 1987 crossroads where power meets speed and nobody’s pretending it’s “background music.” It’s tight, hungry, and built for the part of your brain that thinks a good evening includes loud riffs and zero apologies. And yes, this one has Paul Nelson in the guitar lineup — the same guy who later shows up in Johnny Winter’s band, because apparently he collected careers like I collect pressings.
2. Historical and cultural context
By 1987, metal was in full bloom and full panic at the same time: faster, sharper, louder, and somehow still melodic enough to feel heroic instead of just hostile. Power/speed metal in this era had that “swords up, amps louder” vibe — big choruses, quick turns, and riffs that sprint instead of stroll. This album sits right in that sweet spot, where fantasy visuals and real-world sweat share the same sleeve without fighting.
And because the universe loves collectors, this is also a Made in Holland pressing on Metal Blade Records RR 9625, with the infamous Bloody Axe label design. Same music, different physical attitude — like the record itself is smirking at other editions from across the room.
3. How the band came to record this album
The production story here is refreshingly direct: Joe Bouchard and Liege Lord produce it together, and the band also shares the mix duties, which usually means one thing — they cared enough to argue over details. Peter Hodgson engineers, with Blaise Sires assisting, and it all reads like a band determined to sound exactly like themselves, only sharper.
The packaging backs up that “this mattered” feeling: the album includes the original custom inner sleeve with lyrics, album details, and band photos. It’s the kind of sleeve you actually pull out and read, then accidentally leave out while the record plays because you got distracted by the vibe.
4. The sound, songs, and musical direction
Sonically, "Burn to My Touch" moves like a blade being tested: quick, controlled, and a little too happy to cut. The guitars don’t just “riff” — they snap, trading bite and melody like two wolves arguing over who gets the tastiest part of the chorus. The whole thing has that late-80s clarity where speed doesn’t blur the intent, it underlines it.
When the album wants to kick the door in, it does it with tracks like "Transgression" and "Birds of Prey" — lean, fast, and allergic to filler. When it stretches its legs, songs like "Walking Fire" and "Speed of Sound" feel like the band chasing momentum just to see if they can catch it and tackle it into the drum riser. And "Portrait of Despair" adds that needed shade, because constant brightness is for dentists and motivational posters.
5. Comparison to other albums in the same genre/year
If you drop this into the broader 1987 metal ecosystem, it sits comfortably among records that balanced speed with identity — not just “faster” for sport, but faster with a point. The difference is that Liege Lord lean into a gritty, street-level intensity even while the artwork screams fantasy cathedral drama.
- Helloween – "Keeper of the Seven Keys Part I" (1987): big melodic lift, more “skyward” ambition.
- Anthrax – "Among the Living" (1987): thrash bite and gang-shout energy, more urban and chaotic.
- Savatage – "Hall of the Mountain King" (1987): theatrical heaviness, darker grandeur.
6. Controversies or public reactions
No obvious scandal trails this one on the page — no “sellout” courtroom drama, no label soap opera, no moral panic headline. Just a band putting the pedal down and daring you to keep up, which is honestly the healthiest kind of controversy: volume-related.
7. Band dynamics and creative tensions
With two guitarists (Tony Truglio and Paul Nelson), you can hear that classic push-pull: one hand on precision, one hand on ignition. Andy Michaud holds the center as the voice, while Matt Vinci and Frank Cortese keep the engine from wobbling, because speed metal without discipline is just falling down the stairs with confidence.
Even the visuals feel like part of the band’s identity: the sleeve concept and artwork credit goes to Ioannis (Third Image), and it’s peak 80s metal fantasy — ominous armor, magic fire, gothic dread, the whole glorious package. The music matches that tension: heroic on the surface, restless underneath.
8. Critical reception and legacy
This is the kind of record that earns its reputation the slow, reliable way: by sounding great when nobody’s watching, then sounding even better when you come back years later with better speakers and worse knees. Fans who love the power/speed lane tend to keep it close, because it scratches that itch for melody that still hits like a fist.
Collector-wise, the details are the cherry: Metal Blade Records RR 9625, the Bloody Axe label art, and a Netherlands pressing that feels like a particular snapshot of how this album traveled through the world. It’s not just the music — it’s the artifact, the little physical “yep, this one’s mine” moment when the label spins into view.
9. Reflective closing paragraph
Every time I pull "Burn to My Touch" from the shelf, it reminds me why 1987 still feels like a golden year for heavy music with actual personality. It’s fast without being hollow, melodic without going soft, and confident without sounding like it’s trying to impress the algorithm. Decades later, the riffs still smell faintly of beer, sweat, and misplaced optimism — and honestly, that’s basically why I collect.
