When Rolf announced he had been working on new Running Wild material, I was pumped. I had flashbacks to those juvenile days of "Gates to Purgatory," a young boy sitting in his room with a pair of headphones staring off into space as a spinning piece of plastic brought his world down into a land of leather and chains. As you see, Running Wild means a lot to me, so it shouldn't surprise you that "Shadowmaker" sounded like Rolf Kasparek personally coming to my house and throwing a pie in my f**king face. I don't know how to even describe "Shadowmaker." Hard rock with a Macbook on drums? A boring Running Wild that would rather stay sober and read the paper than conquer the seas and rail some whores? A vapid heavy metal journey where nothing happens at all? I suppose all three, and then some.

Listening to "Shadowmaker" was like coming home from an awful day of work and walking in on my friends and former girlfriends caught in the act with my headshot taped on their faces. Traumatic? Perhaps. I could only stare, unable to process or react, paralyzed by its bovine qualities. I gave it a generous rating (4.5 out of 10, I think) in my original review, though I haven't been able to muster up the gonads to once more sit through Rolf talking about his bros. I've tried, but it sucks way too much. I have to admit I once again felt that buzz of impending greatness when "Resilient" was announced. Hey, even the artwork looks like something that would've appeared on an old-school Running Wild offering, and the song titles really beckoned to me: "Bloody Island?" "Fireheart?" "Desert Rose?" Insert boner euphuism here.

I hate to disappoint you, but "Resilient" stinks. Not worse than "Shadowmaker," as it does contain some flares of Running Wild's old glory, but for the most part it's just Rolf and Peter Jordan playing lackluster hard rock to a drum machine's lifeless plodding—at least that's what I'm assuming it is, as no real drummer could sound so abysmal and empty. "Resilient" merely confirms that Rolf should've let Running Wild's spotless biography rest in peace, for now he and Jordan are not far from wrapping a ring of dynamite around Adrian's corpse and subsequently blowing a glorious band's historic legacy to kingdom come. It's been dressed up to appear like a Running Wild album without the most important quality of all: the actual intensity and passion of Running Wild.

"Resilient" is like a fourth-rate Running Wild tribute band, which is far better than the AC/DC crud Rolf used on "Shadowmaker." So right off the bat, Rolf and Jordan (plus Rolf's handy drum machine) kick out "Soldier of Fortune," which has a riff that sort of reminds me of Running Wild but is incredibly restrained and tame. It doesn't do anything special, but hey, it's not "Shadowmaker." The tunes following "Soldier of Fortune" continue the bland code of generic riffs, "drum" patterns that are paced identically with no fills or variation, lazy choruses, and Rolf moaning into the microphone like a guy who's about to be busted on To Catch A Predator. "Resilient" is insignificant from "Soldier of Fortune" to "The Drift"; just dull, monotonous, and mostly trivial shadows of Running Wild's former greatness.

Everything completely capsizes from here on out, however. "Desert Rose" is a cringe-worthy rock sonnet that wouldn't sound out of place on a Bon Jovi record, and "Fireheart" is devoid of hooking material and accomplishes precisely jack sh*t, much like the first four anthems. Then, three cuts that would've made excellent "Shadowmaker" b-sides—they suck the big one, obviously. Before I get to "Bloody Island," I have to say "Resilient" does very little for me during its first forty minutes. The riffs have no teeth, the awful production is fake and sterile, and the drums have been programmed to do the exact same pattern for each and every song. It seriously sounds like Rolf wrote the whole record in three hours. Also, why in the world is Rolf programming his drums? Drum machines are like musical methamphetamine binges, and they obviously sound repulsive. Making banal music isn't normal, but with a drum machine, it is. That's my new PSA, tell your kids.

It's actually pretty funny how things have turned out for Running Wild, because they occasionally flirted with strong hard rock influences (see "Fire & Thunder" on "The Rivalry") that turned out nicely in the past. Here, there's no electricity to anything. The only song worth mentioning is "Bloody Island," a ten-minute epic about pirates and stuff. The riffs are actually decent, and there are, as shocking as this may be, actual signs of a group that is not frail and withered. It's still mired by production woes, but hearing "Bloody Island" after sitting through the other nine duds is like coming to an oasis of naked women and alcohol after walking through a labyrinth of Mormon propaganda. On the bright side, "Bloody Island" is the best Running Wild track on both "Shadowmaker" and "Resilient." Then again, that's like winning a participation ribbon in an elementary school field day event. Big deal.

"Resilient" teeters on the brink of going completely bankrupt on artistic and creative spectrums. "Resilient" sounds harmless during its best moments, but there sadly is not enough fire or passion to truly reignite the inferno of Running Wild. On top of that, there's an empty production job that sounds bovine, plus a large chunk of the record regresses back into the chambers of "Shadowmaker," and as you see, that's not a good thing in my eyes. In the end, "Resilient" is just another album plastered with the Running Wild moniker. You know how an excellent college football team will sometimes run up the score against a weaker school just to boost stats? That nagging feeling that tugs on the back of your mind to just leave or turn off the TV because it's been over for some time but the game just won't stop? That's what it's like to sit through "Resilient." Rolf, it's time to take a knee.