The origins of Dio can be traced back to of all things a mixing disagreement for a live album. Band namesake Ronnie James Dio and drummer Vinnie Appice, both the ‘new kids’ of iconoclasts Black Sabbath at the time, were unhappy with the mix Sabbath’s “Live Evil,” and decided to start a new group with more freedom and less bullshit.
Despite having a golden singing voice Dio, who had spent years working under Sabbath, Rainbow and a host of other groups, had never quite had a chance to use his creative voice. Now with a virtuosic trio behind him in Appice, bassist Jimmy Bain and wunderkind guitarist Vivian Cambell backing him up, Dio would finally get some limelight. There would be highs and some very low lows, and no, that isn’t a joke about Ronnie’s height. Anyway, Dio would prove to be a tentpole of Ronnie James Dio’s legacy by his death in 2010. Here’s every Dio album, ranked.
10. Lock up the Wolves (1990)
“Lock up the Wolves” has a case of the Mondays, likely from a mix of ‘80s burnout and a looming sense of doom for the coming decade. The omens were already bad for Dio thanks to changes in the band’s lineup and the public’s music taste. All that aside though, the worst thing a Dio album can be is not fun (and to a lesser extent have a shite snare sound). This album feels like a colonoscopy, so keep these wolves locked up because they suck!
Play It Again: “Between Two Hearts”
Skip It: “Lock Up The Wolves”
9. Angry Machines (1996)
The only real “hot take” you’ll see on this list is that “Angry Machines” isn’t the dumpster fire it’s marked as by the angry Reddit machines. Ronnie and the boys make an honest pass at some new ideas, but unfortunately everything still feels caught in purgatory. All of the hard rock numbers have energy, but none of the great direction seen in Dio’s early work. That said, do yourself a favor and stay (or skip) to the end for closer “This is Your Life.” The surprise piano ballad is a genuinely moving reminder of why RJD’s voice ruled the metal world and beyond.
Play It Again: “This is Your Life”
Skip It: “Black”
8. Strange Highways (1994)
Being an ‘80s metal holdover in the ‘90s must have been soul-crushing. The kids had dumped perms for flannels and metal songs about goblins for grunge songs about gobblin’ prescription medication. Much like that last joke, “Strange Highways” depends on your tolerance: in this case a tolerance for a decent but not electrifying mid-90s swings at reigniting Dio’s zhuzh.
Play It Again: “Strange Highways”
Skip It: “Evilution”
7. Sacred Heart (1985)
Though well-clad in the same Tolkien-drunk sword and sorcery trappings as its two older brothers “Holy Diver” and “The Last In Line,” “Sacred Heart” fumbles the trilogy by playing it too safe. Dio is a bit too sacred with what’s worked on “Sacred Heart,” which can kind of feel like a collection of B-sides for its predecessors. Part of this could be owed to the loss of guitar virtuoso Cambell, who jumped ship to join Whitesnake after rising tensions within Dio. David Coverdale was likely too busy scoring with everything that moved to notice the new guitarist, though.
Play It Again: “Sacred Heart,” “Fallen Angels”
Skip It: “Hungry for Heaven”
6. Killing the Dragon (2002)
Ronnie James Dio’s hatred of dragons is nothing short of admirable. Don’t give us that ‘oh you don’t get it they’re a metaphor for personal adversity’ bullshit. Dio wanted to kill dragons so bad he wrote an album about. Like, the “If I Did It” for killing dragons. And the album’s pretty decent, too! The band’s ‘00s revival period was still in full swing, with several tours and one more solid LP still to come.
Play It Again: “Killing the Dragon,” “Rock & Roll”
Skip It: “Better In The Dark”
5. Master of the Moon (2004)
Dio’s last studio album caps off an exceptionally productive period that began with 2000’s “Magica.” Though projects like Heaven & Hell would keep Dio the man busy even up to his death in 2010, “Master of the Moon” would be the last studio album in line for Dio the band. It’s a strong sendoff with great moments like “The Eyes.” You can debate the quality of each album into oblivion, but it is incredible how consistently badass Dio’s voice is on every song and every album, even toward the end.
Play It Again: “The Eyes”, “In Dreams”
Skip It: “Death by Love”
4. Dream Evil (1987)
“Dream Evil” is a great Dio record all the way through, with perhaps one of Ronnie’s strongest album openers in “Night People.” It succeeds where “Sacred Heart” fails thanks to more precise songwriting and a tactful use of ‘80s production wizardry. It also has on the whole more energy than “Heart,” which felt like a doom-metal precursor in all the wrong ways. The album would also see the departure of Appice, Bain and keyboardist Claude Schnell, effectively ending the classic lineup. But none of them were named “Dio” so ultimately it was fine.
Play It Again: “Night People”
Skip It: “Better In The Dark”
3. Magica (2000)
Everyone loves a comeback record, and 2000’s “Magica” is a great one. This album has everything; killer tracks, a spooky concept about interdimensional demons, a dumbass made-up word for the title, Dio’s ‘90s malaise was officially over. The return of Bain and Schnell helped the band resemble something closer to the classic lineup. It’s a shame the planned “Magica” trilogy never panned out, as it would have been great to hear “Magic 2: The Streets” and “Magica 3: Tokyo Drift.”
Play It Again: “As Long As It’s Not About Love”, “Eriel”
Skip It: “Magica – Reprise”
2. The Last In Line (1984)
Still high off the success of “Holy Diver,” Dio struck another metal home run with “The Last In Line,” an album that proved lightning was more than happy to strike twice for Ronnie and co. Featuring a barrage of songs just as confident and crazy as the first batch, including arguably Dio’s greatest song in the title track, “The Last In Line” had no problem matching the stratospheric heights of its predecessor. Dio’s sound was expanded with the addition of Schnell on keyboards, but Cambell’s guitars and Dio’s voice still rule the record with an iron fist. Props also should be leant to the album sleeve artist, who perfectly depicted what it’s like to stand behind a tall person at a concert.
Play It Again: “The Last In Line,” Breathless,” “We Rock”
Skip It: “Mystery”
1. Holy Diver (1983)
Brimming with ideas while still tightly focused, high concept yet fully accessible, goofy but still badass, “Holy Diver” defied all of the odds and tore the metal world a new asshole when it dropped like an atomic bomb in 1982. Dio seemed to forgo any of the standard growing pains a new band would normally feel, instead entering a wildly productive period right out of the gate. Videos for chart-toppers “Holy Diver” and “Rainbow In The Dark” played around the clock on MTV, further solidifying Dio’s metal world takeover. After years under the thumb of bigger egos, Ronnie James Dio was finally on top. Ride the tiger!
Play It Again: Yes.
Skip It: No.
While the Menzingers have never made a bad record, this one falls to the bottom because the rest of their discography is so strong. “Hello Exile” is incredibly well-made and there are some true hits that fit right in with the rest of the Menzingers touring setlist. That said, a lot of tracks don’t feel original enough make this album feel distinct. Even the highlights sound like when your friend corners you at a party to tell you a story you’ve heard a million times already.
This is a solid debut record. It has the seeds of what they would later cultivate over the next decade of their career: genuine heart, a penchant for literary references, and bright melodies. It’s all there, even if it’s a little unrefined. The entire record sounds like someone threw a huge party at their parents’ house–every lyric is a hoarse yell and the guitars and drums feel like they’re shaking the floor and knocking family heirlooms off the mantle. It ages very quickly because that level of frantic energy is difficult to hold on to. It’s similar to Minor Threat and Operation Ivy’s music in the sense that it could ONLY be created by young kids having a blast making music with their friends. It’s hard to not be charmed by that.
The turning point album. Things are beginning to click for the Menzingers on this album as they grow into a key participant in the Philly DIY scene. The screamed lyrics and wild energy are still present but they’re slowly beginning to use those elements to forge their brand of melodic punk.
Any worthwhile EP will cover everything a band is able to do in 5-6 six songs, and this is no exception. This Red Scare Industries release boasts some of the best tracks in the early half of the Menzinger’s career, so I’d be remiss to not at least address it. It packs so many Menzingers tropes it feels like you’re running down a checklist–an almost too sincere singalong chorus? Check. A loveable ripoff of Bruce Springsteen? Check. Self-medication with alcohol? Check. Alright boys, we’ve got ourselves an EP!
When “Rented World” was released, the Menzingers found themselves in the falling into trap door of being in a successful punk band: while they had finally gained a larger, devoted audience, the demands of touring all over the world were depleting them financially and emotionally. This record still has the same hopeless romanticism that was perfected in “Impossible Past,’ but they spit venom on some of these tracks. “I Don’t Wanna Be an Asshole Anymore” alone is a triumphant songwriting achievement. This single track is responsible for thousands of twentysomethings experiencing their first-ever moment of self-reflection.
Everything the Menzingers had been trying to express thematically and lyrically is in here with perfect melodies. Stories about unrequited love, shame, drinking, and fucking up are captured in picture-perfect clarity. If you’re 23 and hearing this for the first time after a breakup, I’m so happy for you but so sad for everyone else in your life who must now hear you talk about this album nonstop. The only reason this is #2 instead of #1 is that there have been similar masterpieces about nostalgia and romance written by other bands (cough cough Gaslight Anthem cough cough). These have always been powerful driving forces for the band, but the best Menzingers album was able to break through the rose-colored glasses with a harsh kick in the face from reality.
The fear of aging is palpable, especially working in a genre whose high water marks were made by literal teenagers. The Menzingers used this anxiety to fuel their best work with a simple question: Where are we gonna go now that our 20s are over? They answer with their most visceral, gut-wrenchingly honest lyrics about the guilt of years lost to drinking and touring which instantly connected with their audience, who lost years to drinking and following the Menzingers on tour. The timing of this release was perfect, as their main demographic was also getting older, but without any of the perks of being a rockstar. The sheer existential dread on this record also produced some of their best lyricism. They feel more motivated to preserve precious, hyper-specific moments in time. These aren’t as shiny as the ones in Impossible Past but it’s more important to draw attention to them given “After the Party’s” far bleaker context.
Knowing now what we didn’t know back in 1999, it’s fair to say that although this album is not without its charm, it’s the weakest in the discography. If you’re familiar with the band’s canon, you’ll recognize Nate’s signature Telecaster shimmer, Stacy’s reliably crunchy and intricate bass work, and the other Nate’s expertly syncopated drums. This album came out when they were like 15 years old, so it evokes that feeling you get when you break curfew and your mom’s boyfriend keeps bumming your cigs. But still, this album has a charming aggression to it that only comes with youth.
“Possibilities and Maybes” is technically not canon, but it’s a memorable album of B-sides that comes with strong recommendation. There’s previously unheard of stuff from their first three albums. There are demos and remixes. They even do a faithful cover of “Synchronicity II” by The Police, which is actually easier to listen to than the original version because you don’t have to think about Sting edging himself into an explosive climax with a feather duster.
For a while it seemed like The Casket Lottery was done, but they surprised us with this banger ten years after the release of the career-defining “Survival is for Cowards.” We’re met with an older, and wiser Casket Lottery after everybody went off to play in Coalesce, Able Baker Fox, and the Appleseed Cast. In other words, there was room for growth and reformation. In 2002, we had The Casket Lottery. In 2012, we had The Casket Lottery, but with synth. It’s like having your existential dread cake, and eating it while listening to The Cure.
“Short Songs for End Times” picks up where “Real Fear” left off, but is an overall more consistent album. Though The Casket Lottery has been known to tread lightly into math-rock territory, this release is their most straight-forward album to date; the drums chop, the bass rips, and the guitars paint a rich tapestry of texture only to drape it over the entire backdrop. The expertly placed peaks and valleys on this album make for a solid front-to-back listen, and Nathan’s powerful vocal presence sounds like he finally found the right combination of antihistamines.
There’s a whole other band out there called Able Baker Fox, and they boast the same lineup that can be found on the “Small Brown Bike And The Casket Lottery” split-EP. This EP, and the two subsequent Able Baker Fox albums that were birthed by it, has members from both bands playing together in what could be described as the ultimate supergroup that nobody’s ever heard of. It’s hard to tell where The Casket Lottery ends and Small Brown Bike begins, but we promise you that you’ll look really sad while walking over the iced over grass as the underneath you breaks like glass, or something. You honestly can’t go wrong with this one.
“Moving Mountains” is a younger, more experimental Casket Lottery in top form. The entire thing sounds the way it feels when you fall asleep on your arms until they get all tingly, but then you immediately pick up your guitar before you get the feeling back in your hands and try writing a song. That was supposed to be a compliment. Rhythmically, the staggering structure makes “Moving Mountains” sound disjointed in a way that’s intentional, and the whole album has a strange, yet infectious jiggle to it that’s hard to not be interested by.
“Survival Is for Cowards” is The Casket Lottery’s most straightforward pre-hiatus album, and shows you a clear logical progression in sound from the two albums that preceded it. Every song has its own subtle rhythmic complexity to it, but it’s also the most easily accessible iteration of The Casket Lottery, melodically speaking. Every song will vaguely remind you of really cold rain, and your dead uncle when you listen to that one song.