· 

Doro - Warlock - Triumph And Agony Live

I don’t love the music, but I admire the hell out of the woman who made it.

211 days till W:O:A 2023.

 

Doro Pesch. You’ve heard the name. Your mum’s probably heard the name. Hell, even I've heard that name before starting this blog. If you’ve ever walked past a denim vest, you’ve heard the name.

 

Doro is a fixture. She’s one of those names you absorb through cultural osmosis. Even if you’ve never listened to a single track, you know Doro.

 

And after months of black and death metal, switching to her brand of melodic, anthemic heavy metal felt—abrupt. Like being dragged out of a dungeon and straight into a very loud 80s music video. But I stuck with it. And, predictably, I found something to like. Because of course I did.


A brief history of the Metal Queen

Doro got her start in 1982 with Düsseldorf-based band Warlock. They took off fast in Germany, managed to make a dent in the US market and then promptly imploded in 1988. Their fourth and final studio album, Triumph and Agony (1987), remains their most successful.

 

Then came the legal drama: Doro lost the rights to the Warlock name and had to continue under her own. It took her until 2011 to win it back. Not many would bother.

 

In 2017, she revived Triumph and Agony in its entirety at Sweden Rock Festival. The live album came out in 2021. And against all expectations, that’s the one that got me.


Leather, lungs, and legacy

Triumph and Agony Live is exactly what you’d expect—loud, polished, and entirely committed. The recording is solid, the band is tight, and Doro gives everything. Still.

 

Touch of Evil opens the set with no subtlety whatsoever, and I Rule the Ruins keeps it going—strong riffs, big hooks, enough drama to make it memorable. Doro’s voice is raspy but steady, and her screams still land when they need to.

 

I also watched the documentary Doro – The Queen of Metal around the same time, and I ended up liking her. She comes across as grounded, warm, and genuinely powerful—the kind of person who somehow makes hard work look like joy. And that’s rare.



A career built on stubbornness (and duets)

Doro never really changed. Her earliest influences were Suzi Quatro and Slade, and she stayed loyal to the idea of “powerful music with melody.” That’s been the throughline from Warlock to now.

 

She was one of the first women to perform at Monsters of Rock in Donington and, to this day, remains a role model for women in metal—fans and musicians alike. She’s known for her work ethic, discipline, and sheer persistence. And frankly, that’s more impressive than any career pivot or reinvention.

 

She’s done her share of duets, too. Descent with Pete Steele is a favourite—brooding and dramatic without tipping into parody. Even It Still Hurts with Lemmy has its place. It’s sentimental, yes, but they both commit to it—and somehow that makes it land.

 



From Warlock to Wacken

She’s toured with W.A.S.P., Dio, Judas Priest, Megadeth, Yngwie Malmsteen. Her sound shifted at times—brushing up against glam, hard rock, even pop—but she never really lost her footing. And her fans never really left.

 

She managed a US comeback in 2000 with Calling the Wild. Since then, she’s kept releasing albums, touring relentlessly, and doing exactly what she’s always done. No dramatic returns, no comeback narratives—because she never actually went anywhere.

 

She’s played Wacken eight times already. In 2004, she brought a full symphonic orchestra. In 2009, she sang the official Wacken anthem. In 2023, she’ll return for her ninth round. At this point, they might as well give her her own stage.

 


The ballad I wanted to hate (but couldn’t)

And then there’s Für Immer.

 

I really want to hate it.

 

The lyrics are in German—my native language, and Doro’s—and still don’t sound coherent. Not in a poetic way, just in a “what are you actually trying to say here” way. I’ve heard people describe it as heartfelt. It mostly sounds like something someone wrote on the back of a napkin and translated through an emotional fog.

 

 


But when I listened to the live performance? I felt it. Properly.

By the time the singalong part starts (24:35), the goosebumps were there. I don’t know how it works. But it does. It’s super cheesy, borderline nonsensical, and yet —it lands.

 

 

I’ll be singing along in August. Probably crying. Let’s not talk about it.


That’ll do

There’s something oddly comforting about someone who refuses to change. Doro doesn’t chase trends, she doesn’t rebrand. She just shows up, screams, and leaves.

 

That’s it. That’s the post.