Review by Dominik on April 28, 2026.

When I wrote my review of Warrant's 1985 debut, this album here was already sitting on my desk, waiting to be dissected as well. And I knew back then this would raise the uncomfortable question: what should a band do thirty - well, closer to forty - years after its inception, especially after spending most of that time clinically inactive? Warrant went silent in 1986, resurfaced in 2014 with an album that was… let's call it "polite background noise", went dormant again, and now returns with "The Speed Of Metal". Most of the original lineup left or deceased too early and Jörg Juraschek is the only remaining founding member, doing double duty on bass and vocals. Which brings me back to the elephant in the room: when does it still make sense to continue under the same name?

In my opinion Warrant were never top tier even in their prime. Add to this decades of silence, and the fact that probably only diehard fans even remember the name, and you start to wonder if this comeback is brave… or just stubborn. Naturally, you expect some evolution like more mature vocals, improved production, tighter songwriting. That part checks out. But here's the catch: as much as I want but Warrant 2026 has about as much in common with Warrant 1986 as a filing cabinet has with cloud storage. Technically both share the same purpose, but of course the experience is wildly different. So yes, I can't help but ask whether starting fresh under a new name might have been the cleaner solution. It had made my review easier, with less baggage and fewer ghosts in the room.

That said, let's not get stuck in a nostalgia trap as it's not impossible to judge "The Speed Of Metal" on its own terms. Though the band's earlier, better material does linger in the back of my mind like an uninvited guest who won't take the hint. However, if you manage to separate past and present in your mind, you'll find that this is not a bad album. Not at all. It's a solid, well-produced slice of modern speed metal, which is occasionally flirting with power and heavy metal, and is occasionally looking at thrash metal from a safe distance. It won't end up in the pantheon of extreme metal, but it earns its place in the conversation. So I will spare you any further comparisons with the band's past, as it is a futile exercise anyhow, and will focus on this release as it is.

Now, let me clear a few things off the table before they start haunting the rest of the review like unpaid bills. First: the intro. I'll politely draw a veil over it. If anyone still believes that a soft, atmospheric intro builds anticipation in 2026, I admire your optimism. Truly. It's almost touching. Secondly, I need to mention the track "It's Up To You". The song, written in 1988, is a re-recording that first appeared on a 1999 demo and never made it onto a regular album. And honestly, I have to say that history took the right decision the first time. It lacks inspiration and plods along with all the urgency of a Monday morning commute traffic jam. And finally, third: the 7½-minute brooding cover of Sweet's "Windy City". I read somewhere that this was a project, Juraschek since long dreamed of putting into a metal setting. Unfortunately, it's one of those dreams where you wake up halfway through and think, you'd rather fall asleep again immediately, not knowing how it ends. As to be expected, the song's heavier than the original, but "heavier" doesn't automatically mean "better", just like adding more garlic doesn't fix a burnt meal. I wouldn't have minded swapping this with another speed grenade.

Fortunately, the album does fire on all cylinders elsewhere. "Cut Into Pieces" is a clear highlight. Though over five minutes long, it's never losing momentum. Driven by relentless double bass and sharp riffing, it's classic Teutonic speed metal done right, complete with a chorus that actually sticks and solos that don't feel like filler. "Demons" follows with even more urgency and briefly opens a portal to the band's past. The opening riff for a fleeting moment sounds old school Warrant, triggering a flicker of nostalgia without getting stuck there. It's probably the closest the album comes to bridging past and present. Jurschek's voice has matured with dignity and still is powerful enough to carry the song and is free of any embarrassing overreach. "Falling Down" completes a strong opening stretch. The chorus feels slightly off balance, but the guitar work during the faster parts probably comes closest to being thrash metal and gives off some faint early Anthrax vibes.

Then the cover version breaks the momentum, before we tumble into the second half of the album. Which is a tad weaker than the first, but still very listenable. "Cry Out" surprises with melodic backing vocals that give it some character, but unfortunately drags its theme too long and stretches itself thinner than it needed to. The simple but effective title track concludes a well-produced album and perfectly captures that unmistakable German metal charm: straightforward riffs, slightly awkward lyrics, and a chorus built for live singalongs fueled by beer and other questionable decisions.

In the end, "The Speed Of Metal" is a decent album caught in an identity dilemma. It's too far away from its origins to feel like a true continuation, yet at the same time it is still too tied to the name to stand completely on its own. I decided to take it for what it is, which is a modern speed metal record by a veteran who clearly still cares. Listen for yourself, and you'll agree that it delivers more often than it falters.

Rating: 7.6 out of 10, because while for me it occasionally trips over its own legacy, it is still good enough to justify the comeback.