Released: May 5, 2006
There’s a version of this story that ends differently. Tim “Ripper” Owens gets plucked out of a Judas Priest tribute band to front the real thing, records two studio albums, tours the world, and builds the kind of reputation that sets up everything that comes after. Instead, Halford came back, the audience made clear where their loyalties were, and Owens spent the next few years moving between hired-gun roles—Iced Earth, Yngwie Malmsteen, Dio Disciples—never quite getting the moment where people assessed him on his own terms. Beyond Fear was supposed to be that moment. The self-titled debut came out in May 2006, sold about a thousand copies in its first week in the US, and largely vanished. That’s a shame, because the record is better than its commercial fate suggested.
The context matters because it colours how people hear the album. Ripper Owens was never going to escape the Judas Priest comparisons, and the band—put together with guitarist John Comprix and rounded out by Dwane Bihary on second guitar, Dennis Hayes on bass, and Eric Elkins on drums—doesn’t go out of its way to distance itself from that sound either. What Beyond Fear actually sounds like is a tighter, slightly more aggressive version of late-era Priest, with Owens finally writing songs that fit his voice rather than songs that were written for someone else. The difference is audible from the first track.
Opener “Scream Machine” is the best argument for the whole project. It’s fast, heavy, and built around a riff that has legitimate Painkiller-era energy without being a direct copy of anything. Owens is at full throttle immediately, the falsetto as sharp as anything from his Priest days, and the chorus earns the anthemic quality it’s going for. If the rest of the album matched it, this would be a genuine classic. “And…You Will Die” follows and is where the record takes its first dip—it’s competent but noticeably less inspired, the kind of track that makes sense as a second song but doesn’t push anything forward. “Save Me” corrects course, heavier and more direct; the double bass work underneath Owens’ screaming gives it a momentum the previous track lacked. “The Human Race” is the most complete thing on the first half—the guitar work from Comprix and Bihary is at its best here, the song moving through its sections cleanly and building to a solo that actually earns the space it takes up.
The middle stretch is where the album’s limitations become clearest. “Coming At You” and “Telling Lies” are both built around riffs that don’t go anywhere particularly interesting, and the lyrics across several tracks are the kind of meat-and-potatoes metal fare that the music itself is too good to be saddled with. “Dreams Come True” is the one ballad, and it works better than it probably should—Owens pulls it off on the strength of his voice alone, and there’s something genuinely personal in the delivery that the more aggressive tracks don’t quite reach. “Words of Wisdom” and “My Last Words” are solid mid-tempo tracks that keep things moving without standing out, and “Your Time Has Come” is the closest the back half comes to matching the opener — urgent, fast, and giving Owens room to do what he does best.
Closer, “The Faith,” ends the record on a slower, heavier note—not a ballad, but more deliberate than everything before it and a reasonable way to close out an album that spent most of its runtime moving at speed.
Jim Morris handled production at Morrisound, and the record sounds exactly the way a heavy metal album recorded in Tampa in 2006 should sound — big guitars, clean mix, Owens sitting high and clear in the front. Nothing about it is subtle, which is the right call.
Beyond Fear never made a second album, and Owens has kept moving through a career that stubbornly refuses to settle into anything permanent. This record deserved better than it got—not because it’s flawless, but because the talent on display was obvious and the audience that would have loved it never quite found it. It still holds you.
Written by Rob Joncas for DeadNoteMedia.
Artist information and music courtesy of the bands and publicists.
© 2026 DeadNoteMedia. All rights reserved.
DeadNoteMedia 