An often misunderstood and underrated album, 1986's Seventh Star was never intended to be a Black Sabbath release, as the band had effectively broken up following its disastrous 1984 tour in support of career low point Born Again. Instead, Seventh Star was conceived as guitarist Tony Iommi's first solo project, and it was only record company pressure that forced him to resurrect his longtime band's moniker at the last minute. With this in mind, one can better appreciate both the record's more blues-based, often un-Sabbath-like songwriting and the contributions made by journeyman singer Glenn Hughes (ex-Trapeze, Deep Purple, etc.), whose incredibly emotive and soulful vocal style was completely at odds with the deadpan delivery of Sabbath's most recognizable singer, Ozzy Osbourne (a discrepancy that would spell his quick exit when the necessary classics were wheeled out for the ensuing world tour). Still, within the unique circumstances of Seventh Star's creation, Hughes' fiery tunefulness made aggressive hard rockers like "In for the Kill," "Turn to Stone," and "Danger Zone" uncommonly catchy, and gorgeous ballads such as "Angry Heart/In Memory..." and "No Stranger to Love" all the more heart-rending. Tellingly, his efforts fell resoundingly flat on the bluesy aimlessness of "Heart Like a Wheel" and the gothic menace of the title track, making it possible for keener observers to foresee the troubles ahead. Yet, in light of the even more traumatic difficulties that preceded it, Seventh Star -- for all its uncharacteristic sonic qualities -- actually represents the turning of a corner for Black Sabbath's lengthy career, which steadily regained momentum in the years that followed. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia

BORN AGAIN is probably the most underrated album in the Sabbath catalog. Featuring the classic lineup with vocalist Ian Gillan (Deep Purple) standing in for Ozzy, BORN is a balls-to-the-wall metal album made in an era when Dexy's Midnight Runners and Debarge dominated the charts. "Trashed" races by with Gillan's hair-raising shrieks. It's said the man sang the album naked in the studio for maximum power and grittiness, and he seems to have achieved it. Sounding nothing like Ozzy Osbourne or Ronnie James Dio, Gillan nonetheless fits the Sabbath sound to a T. "Zero The Hero" features a wicked bass line from Geezer Butler, while "Digital Bitch" contains classic metal soloing from Tony Iommi. The title track is a power ballad that fit that label before bands like Firehouse and Warrant distorted it. If you're a fan of Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, or hard rock in general, don't let BORN AGAIN be the one that got away.

New York's Riot is unfortunate representative of a "lost generation" of American hard rock bands. Formed in the late '70s, when widespread record industry recession conspired with disco's airwave domination and headline-grabbing (but little-album-selling) punk rock to drive even some of the decade's most successful heavyweight dinosaurs (Black Sabbath, Kiss, etc.) to the brink of extinction, Riot saw precious few of their contemporaries (most notably Van Halen) actually make it through to the big time. Not so lucky as the California quartet, Riot had to seek out a foreign label to take a chance on their stellar eponymous debut in 1977, and then financed a second, Narita, on their own dime before managing to lure a still rather hesitant Capitol Records to pick it up. Finally released in late 1979, Narita was named after the Japanese airport controversially built on sacred ground (hence its bizarre album cover) and contained slick but powerful hard rock -- nowhere near as combustible as VH's debut, but hardly squeaky-clean like Boston's, either. In fact, the record's more considered tracks, such as "Waiting for the Taking" and "Kick Down the Wall," were generally the ones that left something wanting, while most of its best songs -- "49er," "Hot for Love," "Road Racin'" -- stood upon a knife's edge between Guy Esperanza's chrome-plated, echo-enhanced vocals and Mark Reale's razor-sharp riffs and stinging leads. (The title track simply served up an instrumental tour de force for the latter.) Taken as a whole, all ten songs made for an entertaining but not exactly overpowering experience, and though the U.K. press' warm embrace would get Riot as far as playing the following year's inaugural Donington Monsters of Rock Festival, they would need another trip into the studio to concoct their definitive album, 1981's Fire Down Under. As for Narita, it sold just poorly enough upon release to eventually be deleted from Capitol's catalogs, yet just well enough to attain fond cult status among hard rock collectors, whose anticipation had grown to fever pitch by the time it was finally reissued by Rock Candy Records in 2005. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia