I am pleased to report that the label emerges from this project – the only one stamped with King Diamond’s personal seal of approval – with its veracity intact, electing an exemplary subject to honor while handpicking an array of bands that personify the King’s influential and widespread presence on the metal underground – both musically and aesthetically. And the results, as a total package, are admirable, from the dark aural renderings burned to the disc to the humorously macabre cover art that adorns it.

Yet on closer inspection the songs themselves reveal an unresolved tension – namely, each band’s decision whether to be faithful to the original recording or to conceive of it as a point of departure. In other words, each group has to determine whether to stick to its personal style or the style of the artist being remade. It’s a common predicament for a compilation of this sort. What makes it more problematic for this album in particular is that the vast majority of these bands play either death or black metal, and the King – while influential to both – plays neither. The result? Some of the more reputable bands featured – Dark Funeral, Damnation, In Aeternum and Ancient for example – lose some of their edge, choosing to remain fairly faithful to the original, thus causing them to perform outside of their natural element.

I suppose it is ironic, then, that this strain actually benefits a few of the bands. Take the reworking of every metalhead’s favorite Christmas carol, “No Presents for Christmas,” by Bay Area goregrinders Exhumed. By adding melodic vocals over a significant chunk of the band's speed-sludge attack, they successfully infuse a bit of their own brand of twisted humor into a tune that features the King at his most witty – a good natured parody that would more than likely draw a chuckle from the first professed Satanist to whom I ever listened. Another highlight is the spin Chicago’s Usurper puts on “Charon,” from 1986’s Fatal Portrait. Also of interest is Aurora, hailing from Denmark, and its turbo-charged version of “Eastmann’s Cure,” lifted from the 1995 release, The Spider’s Lullaby. By juxtaposing a grating male vocalist performing each verse with an almost ethereal female presence singing the chorus, the band does a decent job of adjusting to the King’s inimitable vocal range. Considering that the majority of the bands gracing the album employ this same tactic, using multiple vocalists to emulate King Diamond’s phenomenal abilities, it says a great deal about the entertainer as well as those both blessed and cursed enough to make the cut for a tribute such as this.

While all of the performers fall short of imbuing their chosen tunes with the conviction and personality necessary to practically claim them as their own – the ultimate coup d’etat of recording cover songs – the results are admirable and a worthy tribute to the King of Metal. After all, this is King Diamond they are emulating, one of the most distinct and recognizable artists ever to emerge from the international metal scene. In other words, any shortcomings should not be held against them.

My final verdict? This is a tribute made for King Diamond fans by King Diamond fans, so if you are part of the legion, this one’s for you. If you find yourself among those who know little or nothing about his vast body of work, I would suggest going straight to the source because ultimately, there truly is only one King Diamond.