I’m not quite sure what this means, but lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of the ridiculous eighties metal (and what might be considered “glam” metal) that I grew up on. It started with a couple of old Ozzy albums that a friend of mine gifted to me via MP3. Now, I think that there’s still some relevance to Mr. Osbourne - he still makes the headlines, even if it’s because he’s a drug-addled old man, who makes me laugh when he swears and picks up dog poo. Then I remembered some hidden away audio files - Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” and “Ride the Lightning” albums. So far, so good… right? Nothing too damaging to my cred for now liking indie/lo-fi rock. Yet.
And then it happened. Strangely - it was out of the blue, one Saturday morning as the kids were already bouncing off of each other and Heather and I were still bleary-eyed from lack of coffee. I was prepping for the recent weekend ritual of pancakes, when the craving hit: I needed some DOKKEN. And I needed it immediately. I needed some ridiculous George Lynch riffs on his custom skeleton ESP guitar, busting out “Mr. Scary” like it was 1987 ALL OVER AGAIN. I couldn’t resist the urge. And thankfully, the Pirate Bay made it totally possible for me to fulfill my overtly stuck-in-the-late-eighties-metalgeek needs. Yes, yes. I know. Someone reading this is wagging their head at me in shame. But, here’s my retort: I haven’t owned a cassette player in years to even play back the original TAPE that I purchased back in 1987. And, um, I can’t seem to locate the tape either. So… I’m sorry, OK?!? I ganked a BAD 80’s glam metal album from a torrent. I admit it. There’s something fundamentally wrong with me. But oh, the rapturous glee that I had the first time I got to blare “Kiss of Death” from the iPod in my car - words really can’t effectively communicate. We’ll just leave it with the little tear that formed in my right eye as I headed off to work, transported back to a time when I was more concerned about getting caught smoking than parenting 4 boys and being a good husband.
Does any of this qualify me to be a great reviewer of music?
Probably not.
Instead, I could have blabbered about my own musical past and recollect on the countless number of bands that I was in, back in that place called “the day”. That would have definitely given me more street cred. I could have mentioned that I was one of the original members of a band that eventually became “something” - it would have given me more name-brand recognition.
But, I don’t want to approach this additional Transcendr content like a wannabe has-been. I’m just like most of the people who read this blog; maybe a bit broken, maybe a bit frustrated, maybe a little afraid. And so, when I do review something, I am looking for it to transport me away from where I am right now, or confirm the fact that I’m not alone where I am. That’s what music and art and movies and even most books are supposed to do. And if those things instead confirm that you are indeed one of the crazy ones, then revel in your insanity for awhile with me.
Next week: we’ll talk about Thrice, and their quadruple-disc musical opus, The Alchemy Index, Volumes 1-4.
See you then?
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