Like Every Legendary Act, Judas Priest Had Their Share of Experimentation — And Not All of It Hit the Mark

For a band as iconic and groundbreaking as Judas Priest, it’s inevitable that they would eventually reach a crossroads—one where creativity, commercial pressure, and the ever-changing musical landscape intersect. With a string of nearly flawless albums behind them, the band had already secured their place in the heavy metal hall of fame by the mid-1980s. But even the mightiest of titans face moments of uncertainty. For me, that moment came with Ram It Down (1988)—an album that, while not without moments of strength, marked a noticeable dip in quality for a band that had long set the gold standard.

Before delving into Ram It Down, it’s important to understand the context of where Judas Priest stood in the mid-’80s. The band had just released Turbo in 1986, an album that boldly experimented with guitar synthesizers and a more polished, glam-tinged sound. Tracks like “Turbo Lover” and “Out in the Cold” saw the band shifting gears from their traditional metal roots toward a more radio-friendly, arena rock style. While some fans embraced the new direction, many felt alienated by what seemed like a compromise in heaviness and identity.

Despite Turbo’s commercial success, it was clear that Judas Priest was at a creative crossroads. Originally envisioned as a double album titled Twin Turbos, the band had split the project into two separate directions—one leaning toward synth-driven hard rock (Turbo) and the other supposedly returning to their heavier origins. That second half became Ram It Down.

Released in May 1988, Ram It Down was marketed as a return to metal form. The album cover alone—with a steel fist crashing down from the heavens—suggested a powerful comeback. On the surface, it delivered just that: the guitars were heavier, the tempo faster, and Rob Halford’s vocals were sharper. But something was missing. Beneath the metallic sheen, the record lacked the inspired songwriting and cohesive vision that defined the band’s earlier work.

Let’s start with the positives. The title track, “Ram It Down,” is a solid, high-octane opener. With pounding drums and lightning-speed solos, it sets the tone with aggression and energy. “Blood Red Skies” stands out as one of the few moments of real grandeur on the album, with an atmospheric build-up, emotive vocals, and a cinematic arrangement that recalls the band’s more progressive tendencies from earlier in their career.

But then, there’s the rest of the record—songs like “Heavy Metal,” “Come and Get It,” and “Love Zone”—which feel more like metal-by-numbers than the inventive, boundary-pushing material fans had come to expect. The lyrics are often simplistic, the riffs recycled, and the production overly slick. There’s a noticeable lack of the passion and unpredictability that had always made Judas Priest such a force.

One of the most criticized decisions was the inclusion of a cover of Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” While Priest had previously delivered fantastic covers—like “The Green Manalishi”—this one felt completely out of place. The attempt to turn a rock ‘n’ roll classic into a speed metal tune came off as awkward and forced, and it added to the perception that the band was unsure of its direction.

What’s more, Ram It Down marked the final Judas Priest album to feature long-time drummer Dave Holland, though his performance on this album is disputed—many believe much of the drumming was done via drum machines or samples, further contributing to the album’s sterile, mechanical feel. The organic fire that once burned through Priest’s recordings seemed dimmed, and the result was an album that felt like a transitional placeholder, rather than a statement of strength.

For fans like me, Ram It Down didn’t just fall short of expectations—it marked the end of an era. It was the sound of a band grappling with its identity, trying to reconcile its legacy with the demands of the evolving musical climate.

But in true Judas Priest fashion, they didn’t stay down for long.

Just two years later, the band roared back with Painkiller—an album that not only restored their credibility but elevated them to near-mythic status. It was fast, furious, technical, and unapologetically heavy. It proved that the Metal Gods still had fire in their bellies.

In hindsight, Ram It Down may always be seen as the album that stumbled—but it also served as the necessary bridge between misdirection and redemption. Even legends sometimes falter. What matters most is how they rise again—and Judas Priest did just that, with a vengeance.