Chuck Klosterman on Rock Part 1

Chuck Klosterman on Rock.

by Chuck Klosterman.

The Jack Factor

Heavy metal's finest hour:

The three best-selling records on the planet are Bon Jovi's New Jersey New Jersey, Guns N' Roses'

Appetite for Destruction, and Def Leppard's

Hysteria.

Every time I invite a hipster over to my house (and this happens far more often than I'd like to admit), I put myself in a precarious position.

At some point in the evening, the visiting hipster is going to look at my CD collection-the single quickest way to assert any individual's coolness quotient. I do the same thing anytime I'm in another person's home. My problem is that (obviously) I am an '80s metal fan, and that devastates my indie rock cred. Since I'm not a musician, I'm not sure why this should matter; it certainly seems ridiculous that private citizens should need indie rock cred. But it always seems important, especially if I'm trying to sleep with the aforementioned hipster. And CD collections don't lie: No matter how many times you mention Matador Records, you cannot consistently explain why Poison is nestled between Pizzicato Five and Polara.

Of course, this situation can be played to one's advantage. You can out-hip a hipster by taking things to the next level-you can promote yourself as an Ironic Contrarian Hipster, the Jedi Knight among trendy rock fans. Being an Ironic Contrarian Hipster is rather complicated; it forces you to own over a thousand CDs, and you have to hate all of them. In fact, the only things you can openly advocate are artists like the Insane Clown Posse and Britney Spears.

Once you get the reputation as an Ironic Contrarian Hipster, you'll suddenly have a lot of freedom. You can sit around and watch Roadhouse Roadhouse and and Footloose Footloose all day, and you can eat at buffet restaurants and wear stupid clothes and smoke pot before work because it's "wacky" to be a "bad employee." Most importantly, you can throw away all your cool records by Stereolab and Built to Spill and listen to stuff that's actually good. This mostly equates to classic rock, new wave groups with female vocalists, Fleetwood Mac, any band from Sweden, and hair metal. If questioned about these choices, you simply scoff and smile condescendingly at your accusers. It also might be a good idea to tell them they need to "think outside the box" (or something like that), but you must say it in a way that indicates you would never actually use that phrase in a real conversation, despite the fact that you always do. all day, and you can eat at buffet restaurants and wear stupid clothes and smoke pot before work because it's "wacky" to be a "bad employee." Most importantly, you can throw away all your cool records by Stereolab and Built to Spill and listen to stuff that's actually good. This mostly equates to classic rock, new wave groups with female vocalists, Fleetwood Mac, any band from Sweden, and hair metal. If questioned about these choices, you simply scoff and smile condescendingly at your accusers. It also might be a good idea to tell them they need to "think outside the box" (or something like that), but you must say it in a way that indicates you would never actually use that phrase in a real conversation, despite the fact that you always do.

Unfortunately, there will be a point where someone will call your bluff. There will come a day when someone will say, "Hey man, I don't care how far outside the box you think-there is nothing cool about owning Iron Maiden's Best of the Beast Best of the Beast." And if they are serious and if you are not stoned, you will be forced to host a serious argument about the musical merits of heavy metal.

Arguing for the aesthetics of hair metal probably seems like an impossible task. There are no respected sources to provide support, and you can't simply suggest that the sonics are too complicated for the average listener to understand. There is no high road. You can tell people they just don't "get it," but that's really a self-defeating argument. Opponents will inevitably insist there's nothing to "get," and they're not going to feel any regrets about missing the nothing that you are apparently "getting" and making it into "something." In other words, they will pretty much have you over a barrel, and your only recourse will be insisting that Ani DiFranco is trying a little too hard to look ugly, which really isn't that compelling of a point in most musical debates.

Usually, the fundamental strategy in prometal arguments hinges on an insistence that most metal is horrible. In order to seem rational, the metal advocate is constantly saying things like, "Yeah, I agree that most of those bands did suck, but but . . .," and then they try to build a larger point out of the ashes of a seemingly negative confession. They admit that hair metal did not succeed in a macro sense, but it was sometimes brilliant in a micro sense. This is the only way to seem like a sensible person (it's the same philosophy one uses when trying to support the Libertarian Party). . . .," and then they try to build a larger point out of the ashes of a seemingly negative confession. They admit that hair metal did not succeed in a macro sense, but it was sometimes brilliant in a micro sense. This is the only way to seem like a sensible person (it's the same philosophy one uses when trying to support the Libertarian Party).

What's so frustrating is that this kind of statement actually applies to every genre of music (metal included). That's the reality of rock 'n' roll: Just about every band is absolute shit. Listen to the Sub Pop 200 Sub Pop 200. Listen to any disco compilation or punk retrospective. Listen to 98 percent of the ska bands that emerged in the mid-1990s (or most of the originals, for that matter). The overwhelming majority of what you'll hear will be wretched. And it generally seems that fans know this, even though they might not feel comfortable admitting it. Few people listen to entire albums, even when they're released by their so-called favorite band. The single biggest force driving the compact disc revolution was not sound quality, nor was it durability: It was the convenience of being able to hear a specific track instantaneously, and then being able to move to another track as soon as the previous one got boring (usually, about two minutes and thirty seconds into a tune). Record reviewers spend way too much time analyzing albums in their entirety; this is because most rock writers have a problem-they like music way too much, often to the point of idiocy. It's very common to see an album panned because "there's not much beyond the single." I don't think that kind of logic matters. For example, Tubthumping Tubthumping by Chumbawamba has proven to be a more important album than Bob Dylan's Grammy Award-winning by Chumbawamba has proven to be a more important album than Bob Dylan's Grammy Award-winning Time Out of Mind Time Out of Mind, simply because Chumbawamba's disc offered one great song that defined the moment of its popularity. I don't think there's any question about which of those two LPs will be more fun to find in a jukebox twenty years from now.

OKAY . . . so we've established that all popular music is basically crap. If your opponent agrees with that assertion, I suppose it essentially makes the rest of the argument moot, but arguments never end this way. You will inevitably keep talking and arguing and loudly scoffing and telling the other person to shut the hell up, and (at some point) you will need to explain what was good about heavy metal in a musical sense. And this can can be done (sort of). There are a handful of metal records that are simply good-and I challenge anyone who disagrees to fight me! be done (sort of). There are a handful of metal records that are simply good-and I challenge anyone who disagrees to fight me!

Still, I've always found it a bit silly whenever someone makes a list of "essential" albums. None of my albums are the least bit essential to anybody anybody, myself included. I mean, food is barely essential-most people can go two days without eating before they start gnawing at the flesh of their own grubby paws. Air is essential; water is essential; I suppose defecation is essential, lest you die of your own toxins. However, the Velvet Underground are never "essential." People always ask me questions like, "If you were stranded on a desert island, what five CDs would you want to be trapped with?" My answer: Five of those twenty-six-dollar remastered Pink Floyd discs that are made out of twenty-four-karat gold. The content of the disc is irrelevant; I simply assume gold would be malleable enough to pound into an arrowhead so I could kill myself a wild boar. Gold is also nice and shiny, which is ideal for bartering with the natives (maybe they could trade me a kayak or something). Things that are essential essential are things that keep you alive. are things that keep you alive.

Of course, once we get beyond semantics, I would have to begrudgingly admit that I love my CDs. They give me a lot of pleasure, and they remind me of better days. And that's the criteria for the following list of "Nonessential Hair Metal Records I Really, Really Like."

It's always difficult to set up parameters for this kind of list. First of all, it's basically impossible to find an indisputable definition for what qualifies as "hair metal." I don't want to exclude any good bands simply because they didn't wear mascara, and I don't want to strictly limit this catalog to releases from 1980 to 1989. So instead of specifying what records I will consider, I've decided to simply outline the albums I won't consider.

Every rock record is eligible for this list, with the following exceptions: 1.) No Led Zeppelin albums Led Zeppelin albums. Just about every Zeppelin record is better than just about every record on the following buyer's guide, so I don't see any sense in mentioning the obvious. This is the material that created hair metal. There is no value in measuring teachers against pupils.2.) No Ozzy-era Black Sabbath albums Ozzy-era Black Sabbath albums. Same justification as Rule No. 1.3.) None of the first four Van Halen albums first four Van Halen albums will be considered. Same justification as Rule No. 2. will be considered. Same justification as Rule No. 2.4.) No alternative bands that some people would call heavy metal just because they're loud alternative bands that some people would call heavy metal just because they're loud (Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Primus, Nine Inch Nails, etc.). Even though they might display sonic similarities, it comes from an entirely different aesthetic sensibility. (Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Primus, Nine Inch Nails, etc.). Even though they might display sonic similarities, it comes from an entirely different aesthetic sensibility.5.) I will not include any KISS albums from the era with makeup KISS albums from the era with makeup, nor will I list any Aerosmith albums from their 1970s drug phase Aerosmith albums from their 1970s drug phase. Skip back to Rule No. 1 if you're still confused.6.) No multi-artist compilation albums multi-artist compilation albums released by Rhino Records after 1995. No multi-artist compilation albums sold on TV, either. released by Rhino Records after 1995. No multi-artist compilation albums sold on TV, either.7.) No "seminal influences." "seminal influences." (For example, I'm not going to throw in the White Album just because "Helter Skelter" is on disc two and it would make me seem like a better student of pop history.) (For example, I'm not going to throw in the White Album just because "Helter Skelter" is on disc two and it would make me seem like a better student of pop history.)8.) I will include no albums that are only noteworthy for having a cool title albums that are only noteworthy for having a cool title. In other words, I am resisting the urge to include Bangkok Shocks, Saigon Shakes, Hanoi Rocks Bangkok Shocks, Saigon Shakes, Hanoi Rocks, even though it's unspeakably fun to type.9.) No Alice Cooper concept records Alice Cooper concept records, and no Alice Cooper records that Alice Cooper records that seem seem like concept records like concept records (which-as far as I can tell-is the entire (which-as far as I can tell-is the entire Alice Cooper catalog before he started to suck Alice Cooper catalog before he started to suck).10.) Finally-and here's a big one-no albums from groups who have no logical reason to be listed here groups who have no logical reason to be listed here. If no reasonably informed person would classify a given artist as a "metal act," I'm not going to put them on this list, even if I could make a semi-entertaining argument as to why they warrant inclusion. For example, the guys in Oasis may have been groupie-shagging coke addicts who could out-rock Trixter eight days a week-but "Acquiesce" ain't metal, and both of us know it.

I'm not listing these records in any real order, except that-at the conclusion of every review-I print the amount of cash someone would have to pay me never to listen to that record again. I call this the "Jack Factor." Personally, I have little love for money (especially after reading Tuesdays with Morrie Tuesdays with Morrie), but bones are the only means our society has to measure stuff. As part of that society, I must do the same. To me, that's always the best way to measure how "essential" something really really is-if you can't buy it off me, it must be pretty important. You might want to look at it as rock criticism via Ayn Rand. is-if you can't buy it off me, it must be pretty important. You might want to look at it as rock criticism via Ayn Rand.

Now, when I say that I would "never listen to something again" for X amount of dollars, realize that I'm not insane. For example, I'm not going to jump out of a moving car if "Sweet Child O' Mine" comes on the radio. I'm not going to walk out of my sister's wedding reception if the DJ spins Out of the Cellar Out of the Cellar. What it means is that I would remove the CD from my collection, never buy it again, and never actively put myself in a situation where the primary goal would be hearing the music. It may be worth noting that I currently earn an annual salary of $54,400 and my rent is $605 a month. My car is not paid off, and I will be repaying my student loans until 2004.

So, keeping this in mind . . . let's rock shit up, bitch!

Van Halen, 1984 (1984, Warner Bros.): More obligatory than necessary, the videos off this album were much better than the songs. It's certainly the least groundbreaking VH record from the David Lee Roth years (in fact, I sometimes think the middle section of 5150 actually has way better songs). However, it's probably the best effort from producer Ted Templeman (the drum sounds on 1984 1984 are particularly stunning). It also provides multiple examples of Van Halen's longtime secret weapon: the backing vocals of bassist Michael Anthony. The all-time single-best illustration of Anthony's wonderful harmonizing is on the "Ooh, baby baby" part from "Dance the Night Away" on are particularly stunning). It also provides multiple examples of Van Halen's longtime secret weapon: the backing vocals of bassist Michael Anthony. The all-time single-best illustration of Anthony's wonderful harmonizing is on the "Ooh, baby baby" part from "Dance the Night Away" on Van Halen II Van Halen II, but 1984 1984 has a larger bank vault of Anthony larynx-oriented gems. has a larger bank vault of Anthony larynx-oriented gems.

I've never been informed as to why "House of Pain" was finally included on this LP, since that's one of the oldest songs in the Van Halen catalog (you can hear versions of it on bootlegs from 1976). It's probably just supposed to be a treat for the type of metal trivia fanatics who win bar bets by knowing that Edward Van Halen soaks his guitar strings in honey. (Jack Factor: $66) (Jack Factor: $66) L.A. Guns, Cocked and Loaded Cocked and Loaded (1989, Polydor): In the same way that Mudhoney has become famous for being the guys from Green River who didn't join Pearl Jam, L.A. Guns will always be remembered as the guys who hung out with Axl but didn't become Guns N' Roses. Since they kind of jumped into the fray late (their debut LP was in 1988), they never really had an opportunity to be superstars (in fact, I think a lot of people assumed they called themselves "L.A. Guns" to gravy train off GNR). Nonetheless, they quickly developed a small-yet-loyal fan base. At the time, there was a minirivalry between Guns N' Roses and Motley Crue, and a lot of the Crue supporters saw L.A. Guns as an espoused rival to Axl's group, prompting them to buy (1989, Polydor): In the same way that Mudhoney has become famous for being the guys from Green River who didn't join Pearl Jam, L.A. Guns will always be remembered as the guys who hung out with Axl but didn't become Guns N' Roses. Since they kind of jumped into the fray late (their debut LP was in 1988), they never really had an opportunity to be superstars (in fact, I think a lot of people assumed they called themselves "L.A. Guns" to gravy train off GNR). Nonetheless, they quickly developed a small-yet-loyal fan base. At the time, there was a minirivalry between Guns N' Roses and Motley Crue, and a lot of the Crue supporters saw L.A. Guns as an espoused rival to Axl's group, prompting them to buy Cocked and Loaded Cocked and Loaded as a show of solidarity for Vince Neil. as a show of solidarity for Vince Neil.

On the whole, this is a better LP than most people would like to remember. Tracii Guns was a workmanlike virtuoso, and he produced several shards of semi-wicked metal ("Rip and Tear" being the best of the bunch). Of all their efforts, Cocked and Loaded Cocked and Loaded has the least amount of throwaways (which is a nice way of saying has the least amount of throwaways (which is a nice way of saying Cocked and Loaded Cocked and Loaded still has a little too much shit on side two, but that's no sin). If you remember this album at all, it's probably for "The Ballad of Jayne." As soon as they got the taste of success, L.A. Guns took the Aerosmith route and pushed a prom song, which will always be a pretty fast way to get famous. still has a little too much shit on side two, but that's no sin). If you remember this album at all, it's probably for "The Ballad of Jayne." As soon as they got the taste of success, L.A. Guns took the Aerosmith route and pushed a prom song, which will always be a pretty fast way to get famous. (Jack Factor: $80) (Jack Factor: $80) Scorpions, World Wide Live World Wide Live (1985, Mercury): As a general rule, I hate all non-KISS, non-Cheap Trick live albums, but this one demands inclusion (if for no other reason than it seemed to remind all their peers that metal bands were socially obligated to make at least one shitty live record). Considering how much the people of Canada love Rush, one has to assume that Germans literally worship the Scorpions. I mean, what else is there? Kraftwerk? Warlock? I've always wondered if the Scorps somehow represented the German culture (kind of in the same way the Cardigans and Whale seem to reflect Scandinavia). If they do, I will never go there, regardless of how fast I get to drive. (1985, Mercury): As a general rule, I hate all non-KISS, non-Cheap Trick live albums, but this one demands inclusion (if for no other reason than it seemed to remind all their peers that metal bands were socially obligated to make at least one shitty live record). Considering how much the people of Canada love Rush, one has to assume that Germans literally worship the Scorpions. I mean, what else is there? Kraftwerk? Warlock? I've always wondered if the Scorps somehow represented the German culture (kind of in the same way the Cardigans and Whale seem to reflect Scandinavia). If they do, I will never go there, regardless of how fast I get to drive.

The big-ticket item on WW Live WW Live is "Rock You Like a Hurricane," the breakthrough hit about rocking like a hurricane. I tend to prefer the studio version off is "Rock You Like a Hurricane," the breakthrough hit about rocking like a hurricane. I tend to prefer the studio version off Love At First Sting Love At First Sting, but maybe that proves I only rock as hard as a tropical storm. I wish they would have included "Love Drive," the best tune this band ever made, but it's not here. In fact, the smart Scorps shopper might be better served by buying the 1989 compilation Best of Rockers n' Ballads Best of Rockers n' Ballads, which (at least according to the title) should cover both poles of the Scorpions' guitar-charged ineptitude. (Jack Factor: $92) (Jack Factor: $92) AC/DC, Back in Black Back in Black (1980, Atlantic): Just about everyone in the free world perceives (1980, Atlantic): Just about everyone in the free world perceives Back in Black Back in Black as AC/DC's ultimate contribution to society, and I suppose I agree, which generally makes me wonder how this band got so popular. But they obviously knew what the fuck they were doing: This record sold 14 million copies, and I suspect it will be recertified platinum every three years until the apocalypse. as AC/DC's ultimate contribution to society, and I suppose I agree, which generally makes me wonder how this band got so popular. But they obviously knew what the fuck they were doing: This record sold 14 million copies, and I suspect it will be recertified platinum every three years until the apocalypse.

Prior to Bon Scott's vomit-gorged death, AC/DC was a legitimately intriguing group, particularly when they were saying "Oi!," whacking girls in the head with billiard cues, and/or inspiring Richard Ramirez to kill people. What's unfortunate (or perhaps admirable) is that this album made all of Scott's catalog obsolete: Unless you're a serial killer, AC/DC will forever be remembered as a buzzsaw guitar band, and that's mostly because Angus Young was so stunningly effective on Back in Black Back in Black. On the strength of two particularly captivating tunes-"You Shook Me All Night Long" and the bone-crushing "Shoot to Thrill"-Young cemented a certain kind of guitar tone that would influence every '80s metal band that wasn't interested in being cute (and eventually Veruca Salt, who actually were). (Jack Factor: $98) (Jack Factor: $98) Ratt, Out of the Cellar Out of the Cellar (1984, Atlantic): Until (1984, Atlantic): Until Appetite for Destruction Appetite for Destruction exploded in '88, this was probably the single-biggest record to rise from the L.A. glam scene. Even though Ratt never seemed as popular as Motley Crue, they initially sold better; "Round and Round" was able to score more consistent radio play than "Smokin' In the Boys Room" and "Looks That Kill" combined. exploded in '88, this was probably the single-biggest record to rise from the L.A. glam scene. Even though Ratt never seemed as popular as Motley Crue, they initially sold better; "Round and Round" was able to score more consistent radio play than "Smokin' In the Boys Room" and "Looks That Kill" combined.

The best songs on Out of the Cellar Out of the Cellar tend to be the "hits," which equate to "Round and Round," "Back for More" and "Wanted Man." To be honest, the rest of the record hasn't aged that well. Ratt struggled with the fact that they had a rote delivery; they seemed a little too musically serious and never had the luxurious sleaze factor of the grittier Sunset Strip groups. They were able to slide by on the strength of an unappetizing band name and smart marketing (the tend to be the "hits," which equate to "Round and Round," "Back for More" and "Wanted Man." To be honest, the rest of the record hasn't aged that well. Ratt struggled with the fact that they had a rote delivery; they seemed a little too musically serious and never had the luxurious sleaze factor of the grittier Sunset Strip groups. They were able to slide by on the strength of an unappetizing band name and smart marketing (the Out of the Cellar Out of the Cellar cover shot was a postapocalyptic image of Tawny Kitaen that made them seem auspicious), but all they really had were a few good songs and Stephen Pearcy's bangs. In 1985, they made a second album ( cover shot was a postapocalyptic image of Tawny Kitaen that made them seem auspicious), but all they really had were a few good songs and Stephen Pearcy's bangs. In 1985, they made a second album (Invasion of Your Privacy) that sounded exactly like this one, and it did the same sort of business. I guess I'm still a little bit confused as to why we all loved this band, but I know we did, because I still remember playing every one of these songs over and over and over again. We simply could not resist the awe-inspiring power of Ratt 'n' Roll. (Jack Factor: $110) (Jack Factor: $110) KISS, Lick It Up Lick It Up (1983, PolyGram): This was the first KISS record to feature the band unmasked (which somehow didn't happen on (1983, PolyGram): This was the first KISS record to feature the band unmasked (which somehow didn't happen on Unmasked Unmasked), and it's the only one where psychopathic axe genius Vinnie Vincent was on board for all the playing and composition. Vincent clearly dominated the songwriting sessions (he gets credit on eight of the ten tracks), and Lick It Up Lick It Up sounds vastly unlike all previous KISS records. The other guys in KISS swear he's a jackass, but Vinnie's artistic template ultimately set the direction for the band's next four or five efforts. sounds vastly unlike all previous KISS records. The other guys in KISS swear he's a jackass, but Vinnie's artistic template ultimately set the direction for the band's next four or five efforts.

When left to his own devices, Vincent plays incredibly fast. Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley forced him to slow down and play behind the beat, which was an attempt to mimic Ace Frehley's style (Simmons refers to this as the "monster plod"). The only song where Vinnie is able to shred maniacally is "Fits Like a Glove," which is (ironically) one of the only two songs he didn't help write.

By and large, Lick It Up Lick It Up is a pretty good hard rock record and the catalyst for KISS' recovery as a platinum-selling artist. It's got quite a bit of filler (which was an all-too-common problem on every KISS record from the '80s), but the better stuff-"Fits Like a Glove," "All Hell's Breaking Loose," and the title cut-proved that Paul and Gene could make competitive, contemporary metal music for a second (third?) generation of KISS fans. If is a pretty good hard rock record and the catalyst for KISS' recovery as a platinum-selling artist. It's got quite a bit of filler (which was an all-too-common problem on every KISS record from the '80s), but the better stuff-"Fits Like a Glove," "All Hell's Breaking Loose," and the title cut-proved that Paul and Gene could make competitive, contemporary metal music for a second (third?) generation of KISS fans. If Lick It Up Lick It Up had tanked, one might speculate that KISS would have folded-or maybe they just would have reunited with Ace and Peter ten years earlier. had tanked, one might speculate that KISS would have folded-or maybe they just would have reunited with Ace and Peter ten years earlier. (Jack Factor: $125) (Jack Factor: $125) W.A.S.P, Live . . . in the Raw (1987, Capitol): After three studio albums, W.A.S.P had quickly established themselves as the most sexually depraved rock band in America. As far as Tipper Gore and the Parent's Music Resource Center were concerned, W.A.S.P was Public Enemy No. 1, mostly because they liked to pretend they were butchering women onstage. Tipper Gore was actually the best thing that ever happened to W.A.S.P; thanks to the PMRC, the band got famous for a song virtually no one in America had ever heard-"Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)," a track that Capitol refused to release (and was subsequently distributed as an "underground single" on the Music for Nations label).

That song isn't on this record, but most of W.A.S.P's better material is. None of their studio albums were spectacular; the best was probably 1985's The Last Command The Last Command, which was recently re-released with a bonus cover of Mountain's "Mississippi Queen." (For reasons that shall forever remain unknown, the entire W.A.S.P catalog was re-released by Snapper Music in 1998, as if these works were somehow lost musical treasures that demanded further examination.) W.A.S.P frontman Blackie Lawless was briefly the tour drummer with the New York Dolls, which basically meant he understood showmanship (if not necessarily musicianship). Almost all of these songs improve when played live, particularly "9.5 Nasty" and "Harder Faster." There's also a nice segue between Humble Pie's "I Don't Need No Doctor" and "L.O.V.E. Machine," two songs about needing medical attention but having sex instead. Lawless described himself as a "Manimal" who slept in a fire and had to ride an intoxicated horse from Long Beach to Los Angeles, much of which I suspect is untrue. Though I can no longer understand what seemed so appealing about buckets of blood and raw meat, these guys definitely had their gooey paws on the metal community's pulse in 1987. If only they had been willing to perform oral sex on each other, I'm sure they could have been Marilyn Manson. (Jack Factor: $129.99) (Jack Factor: $129.99) Judas Priest, British Steel British Steel (1980, CBS Records): I'm a bit disappointed this album didn't make me want to kill myself, but I still enjoy it immensely. It has a sense of credibility that most metal albums lack, although you'd never guess that if your only exposure was the ultra-stupid track "Metal Gods." (1980, CBS Records): I'm a bit disappointed this album didn't make me want to kill myself, but I still enjoy it immensely. It has a sense of credibility that most metal albums lack, although you'd never guess that if your only exposure was the ultra-stupid track "Metal Gods."

Yet for all practical purposes, British Steel British Steel defines all the stereotypes of the metal genre: screaming, soaring vocals; screaming, soaring guitars; booming bass; machine gun drums. It's impossible to deconstruct a song like "Breaking the Law," nor can you deny the tight, clean perfection of "Living After Midnight." By all accounts, defines all the stereotypes of the metal genre: screaming, soaring vocals; screaming, soaring guitars; booming bass; machine gun drums. It's impossible to deconstruct a song like "Breaking the Law," nor can you deny the tight, clean perfection of "Living After Midnight." By all accounts, British Steel British Steel is a cornerstone of late-twentieth-century hard rock, even if a few of the songs manage to be really heavy and really lame at the same time. And I'm still waiting for "United" to become a gay anthem. is a cornerstone of late-twentieth-century hard rock, even if a few of the songs manage to be really heavy and really lame at the same time. And I'm still waiting for "United" to become a gay anthem. (Jack Factor: $160) (Jack Factor: $160) Junkyard, Junkyard (1989, Geffen): This L.A.-based band got an incredible amount of mileage from the fact that Axl Rose wore a Junkyard T-shirt to a GNR photo shoot and was subsequently shown promoting the band in about two dozen different photographs in five different metal magazines. Rose might have done that because he liked Junkyard, or he might have done that because Junkyard was on Geffen and somebody in a blue suit told him it would be a fine idea to pretend he was a fan. Either way, it worked-it seemed like everybody had heard of this group before they ever released any records.

My gut tells me Axl probably did did like Junkyard, mostly because they had the same sort of trashy, hooker-hungry, just-an-urchin-livin'-under-the-street appeal. Vocalist David Roach sounded a lot like Vince Neil (in fact, when I heard "Hollywood" I thought it was Motley Crue), and he was especially Axl-esque at combining depression with semidangerous anger. "Hands Off" is maybe the best metal song ever written about having a woman break your heart; when Roach says "God like Junkyard, mostly because they had the same sort of trashy, hooker-hungry, just-an-urchin-livin'-under-the-street appeal. Vocalist David Roach sounded a lot like Vince Neil (in fact, when I heard "Hollywood" I thought it was Motley Crue), and he was especially Axl-esque at combining depression with semidangerous anger. "Hands Off" is maybe the best metal song ever written about having a woman break your heart; when Roach says "God da-amn da-amn" he may as well be Hank Williams. (Jack Factor: $172) Heavy Metal, Music from the Motion Picture (1981, Elektra): This movie is pretty lousy if you're sober and/or an adult, and the soundtrack should be either glammier or skankier, or maybe both. But it does have the best Sammy Hagar ever recorded ("Heavy Metal"), the only decent post-Oz Sabbath tune ("The Mob Rules"), some foxy witch rock (Stevie Nicks's "Blue Lamp"), and some nifty math rock (Devo's "Working in a Coal Mine"). Nine of the sixteen tracks have magnificent intros, so the album makes for wonderful car music in the summer. It's also fun to get drunk and cry during "Open Arms," and maybe even call your ex-girlfriend and apologize for things that actually happened in an altogether different relationship with an altogether different person. Just trust me on this one. Steve Perry is a fucking genius. (Jack Factor: $180) (Jack Factor: $180) Ace Frehley, Frehley's Comet Frehley's Comet (1987, Megaforce): I'm not exactly sure what Ace Frehley did between his 1982 departure from KISS and this '87 debut. I do know he smashed a Porsche in Connecticut and was arrested for driving 110 m.p.h. in a DeLorean on the Bronx River Parkway, and I have to believe he was pretty wasted during both of those incidents because he always seems to combine both events into one singular story. That patchwork narrative became the premise for the song "Rock Soldiers," the first cut on (1987, Megaforce): I'm not exactly sure what Ace Frehley did between his 1982 departure from KISS and this '87 debut. I do know he smashed a Porsche in Connecticut and was arrested for driving 110 m.p.h. in a DeLorean on the Bronx River Parkway, and I have to believe he was pretty wasted during both of those incidents because he always seems to combine both events into one singular story. That patchwork narrative became the premise for the song "Rock Soldiers," the first cut on Frehley's Comet Frehley's Comet.

Ace's problem as a frontman was always abundantly obvious: His voice is terrible. But that's also his strength; like Jimi Hendrix and Courtney Love, his stunning inability to sing on key makes his music charming. KISS fans adored his contributions to Love Gun Love Gun and and Dynasty Dynasty, as well as his exceptional 1978 effort, easily the best of the ill-fated KISS solo albums. And through most of the 1980s, Frehley's Comet Frehley's Comet sounded more like KISS than KISS did. sounded more like KISS than KISS did.

The value of Frehley's Comet Frehley's Comet is its quirkiness. I think it's cool that Anton Fig is the drummer. I like the tune that sounds like Journey ("Calling to You") and I love the song that sounds like a combination of Ted Nugent and the Jeff Twilley Band ("Love Me Right"). I find it intriguing that a male rock star would write a song that pays tribute to his doll collection ("Dolls"). And I am forever amused by Frehley's obsession with making sure all of his lyrics rhyme is its quirkiness. I think it's cool that Anton Fig is the drummer. I like the tune that sounds like Journey ("Calling to You") and I love the song that sounds like a combination of Ted Nugent and the Jeff Twilley Band ("Love Me Right"). I find it intriguing that a male rock star would write a song that pays tribute to his doll collection ("Dolls"). And I am forever amused by Frehley's obsession with making sure all of his lyrics rhyme exactly exactly. Dave Barry once pointed out that Steve Miller found a way to rhyme the word "Texas" with the phrase "What the facts is" (in that same song, Miller also managed to pair the word "justice" with the phrase "other people's taxes"). Poets refer to this literary device as "slant rhyme." Ace would never be so bold. His lines are always stiff, parallel rhymes-except for one awkward attempt to pair his own surname with the line "Don't be silly." Oh well. (Jack Factor: $199) (Jack Factor: $199) KISS, Animalize Animalize (1984, PolyGram): This was the best KISS effort from the sans makeup years, and it was pretty much Paul Stanley's baby (by this point, Gene Simmons was becoming infatuated with his film career and putting no effort whatsoever into songwriting). In fact, if you listed the twenty best KISS songs of all time, (1984, PolyGram): This was the best KISS effort from the sans makeup years, and it was pretty much Paul Stanley's baby (by this point, Gene Simmons was becoming infatuated with his film career and putting no effort whatsoever into songwriting). In fact, if you listed the twenty best KISS songs of all time, Animalize Animalize is the only post-Kabuki album that would have a tune to offer, the yowl-driven single "Heaven's On Fire." This was an extremely popular song in my junior high, and it prompted my neighbor to create a naughty little parody of the chorus: "Feel my meat / Watch my cock rise / Burn with me / My ass is on fire." Granted, this was only slightly more polished than "Weird" Al Yankovic, but I still think it was pretty clever for a sixth-grader who was burdened with the nickname "Ippy." is the only post-Kabuki album that would have a tune to offer, the yowl-driven single "Heaven's On Fire." This was an extremely popular song in my junior high, and it prompted my neighbor to create a naughty little parody of the chorus: "Feel my meat / Watch my cock rise / Burn with me / My ass is on fire." Granted, this was only slightly more polished than "Weird" Al Yankovic, but I still think it was pretty clever for a sixth-grader who was burdened with the nickname "Ippy."

Animalize is the only KISS record that features Mark St. John on guitar; soon after making the record, he contracted an incredibly rare arthritic disorder that caused his left hand to swell to the side of a midsize rhinoceros. St. John would eventually recover and form White Tiger, a band most people mistakenly called "White Lion" or "Glass Tiger," which wouldn't have been a big deal if those hadn't been the names of other bands who were already more popular. But to be fair, St. John actually does a damn nice job on this LP, especially when you consider he was fundamentally a studio hack and was clearly instructed to play like one. is the only KISS record that features Mark St. John on guitar; soon after making the record, he contracted an incredibly rare arthritic disorder that caused his left hand to swell to the side of a midsize rhinoceros. St. John would eventually recover and form White Tiger, a band most people mistakenly called "White Lion" or "Glass Tiger," which wouldn't have been a big deal if those hadn't been the names of other bands who were already more popular. But to be fair, St. John actually does a damn nice job on this LP, especially when you consider he was fundamentally a studio hack and was clearly instructed to play like one.

Beyond "Heaven's On Fire," the tune everyone seems to remember off Animalize Animalize is "Burn Bitch Burn," the closest Simmons ever came to writing a straightforward joke song (except of course for "Domino," which hopefully is a joke). The most memorable lyric was "When love rears its head, I want to get on your case / Ooh baby, I wanna put my log in your fireplace." We all thought this was hilarious . . . except for Ippy, who probably considered it to be a little lowbrow. is "Burn Bitch Burn," the closest Simmons ever came to writing a straightforward joke song (except of course for "Domino," which hopefully is a joke). The most memorable lyric was "When love rears its head, I want to get on your case / Ooh baby, I wanna put my log in your fireplace." We all thought this was hilarious . . . except for Ippy, who probably considered it to be a little lowbrow. (Jack Factor: $200) (Jack Factor: $200) ***

Tesla, The Great Radio Controversy The Great Radio Controversy (1989, Geffen): This was glam metal to play inside the cab of a tractor-bluesy, denim, and downright (1989, Geffen): This was glam metal to play inside the cab of a tractor-bluesy, denim, and downright wholesome wholesome: On "Be a Man," former cement truck driver Jeff Keith tells us to "do right by the ones you love, and always lend a helping hand." According to Tesla, this is what it takes to be a man. I guess nobody informed them that life ain't nothin' but bitches and money, and that's beautiful.

Traditionalists usually prefer their harder-rocking debut (1986's Mechanical Resonance Mechanical Resonance) and kids who played hackey sack enjoyed 1990's deadheaded Five Man Acoustical Jam Five Man Acoustical Jam, but The Great Radio Controversy The Great Radio Controversy is still the best record Tesla ever made. It melds nonelectric instruments with unglossy riffing, and even a little Neil Young-ish pregrunge on "Heaven's Trail (No Way Out)." Unlike their peers, Tesla ignored the temptation to make formulaic power ballads and wrote normal AM radio relationship tunes, the best example being the bittersweet "Love Song." Of course, I still can't understand why the fuck this band cared who "really" invented the radio, and I still occasionally catch myself mispronouncing their name "Telsa," just like every other kid at my school. Come to think of it, we always seemed to erroneously call their first album is still the best record Tesla ever made. It melds nonelectric instruments with unglossy riffing, and even a little Neil Young-ish pregrunge on "Heaven's Trail (No Way Out)." Unlike their peers, Tesla ignored the temptation to make formulaic power ballads and wrote normal AM radio relationship tunes, the best example being the bittersweet "Love Song." Of course, I still can't understand why the fuck this band cared who "really" invented the radio, and I still occasionally catch myself mispronouncing their name "Telsa," just like every other kid at my school. Come to think of it, we always seemed to erroneously call their first album Mechanical Renaissance Mechanical Renaissance too. Maybe Tesla turns kids into mindless deadheads (which I suppose is a pretty blatant oxymoron). too. Maybe Tesla turns kids into mindless deadheads (which I suppose is a pretty blatant oxymoron). (Jack Factor: $217) (Jack Factor: $217) Motley Crue, Girls Girls Girls Girls Girls Girls (1987, Elektra): This is the Crue's "dark" album, mostly because it's about drugs instead of the devil. Written by Nikki Sixx during the depths of his smack addiction, it's supposed to be about fucking strippers, but it's really about being fucked in the head. On "Wild Side," Vince Neil tells us that "A baby cries / A cop dies / A day's pay on the wild side." It seems that Sixx forgot to mention if this is supposed to be good or bad; judging from the context, he could really go either way. (1987, Elektra): This is the Crue's "dark" album, mostly because it's about drugs instead of the devil. Written by Nikki Sixx during the depths of his smack addiction, it's supposed to be about fucking strippers, but it's really about being fucked in the head. On "Wild Side," Vince Neil tells us that "A baby cries / A cop dies / A day's pay on the wild side." It seems that Sixx forgot to mention if this is supposed to be good or bad; judging from the context, he could really go either way. Girls Girls Girls Girls Girls Girls ends up being a very nihilistic project, probably by accident; when Nikki tried to write a nihilistic album ends up being a very nihilistic project, probably by accident; when Nikki tried to write a nihilistic album on purpose on purpose in 1994, it was slightly less successful than the introduction of New Coke. in 1994, it was slightly less successful than the introduction of New Coke.

The music on Girls Girls . . . is more consciously bluesy than the other Crue albums, hence the horrific live cover of "Jailhouse Rock." I tend to like the first three songs on side two (especially "Five Years Dead," mostly because it sounds like they're saying " . . . is more consciously bluesy than the other Crue albums, hence the horrific live cover of "Jailhouse Rock." I tend to like the first three songs on side two (especially "Five Years Dead," mostly because it sounds like they're saying "Bach is dead," which actually makes more sense), and I've always enjoyed the sentimental throwaway "Nona," a tribute to Sixx's dead grandma (which is especially touching when followed by "Sumthin' for Nuthin'," a song about having sex with grandmas who are still alive). Of course, I'm not exactly sure how any of this was supposed to fit the image they were fostering at the time: Motley had evolved from '81's "glam metal" to '83's "shock rock" to '85's "glitter pop," finally settling on this incarnation-some kind of leather-clad biker persona that mostly seemed like an homage to Al Pacino's is dead," which actually makes more sense), and I've always enjoyed the sentimental throwaway "Nona," a tribute to Sixx's dead grandma (which is especially touching when followed by "Sumthin' for Nuthin'," a song about having sex with grandmas who are still alive). Of course, I'm not exactly sure how any of this was supposed to fit the image they were fostering at the time: Motley had evolved from '81's "glam metal" to '83's "shock rock" to '85's "glitter pop," finally settling on this incarnation-some kind of leather-clad biker persona that mostly seemed like an homage to Al Pacino's Cruisin Cruisin'. But you know, whatever. (Jack Factor: $229) (Jack Factor: $229) Warrant, Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich (1989, Columbia): The first release by the very first band I ever saw play live (May '89, West Fargo Fairgrounds, opening for Great White and Ratt), this magnum opus was dedicated to a girl who "lost her cherry but that's no sin / she's still got the box the cherry came in." That's pretty vapid and so are most of these lyrics, but it's the yummy kind of vapid. The album opens with a song about living on thirty-two pennies in a Ragu jar, but by the start of side two they want to light cigarettes with hundred-dollar bills and wear ocelot pelts to the farmer's market in rural Ohio, which is evidently what you do when you're a Down Boy. (1989, Columbia): The first release by the very first band I ever saw play live (May '89, West Fargo Fairgrounds, opening for Great White and Ratt), this magnum opus was dedicated to a girl who "lost her cherry but that's no sin / she's still got the box the cherry came in." That's pretty vapid and so are most of these lyrics, but it's the yummy kind of vapid. The album opens with a song about living on thirty-two pennies in a Ragu jar, but by the start of side two they want to light cigarettes with hundred-dollar bills and wear ocelot pelts to the farmer's market in rural Ohio, which is evidently what you do when you're a Down Boy.

If you experienced your first episode of finger-banging between August of 1989 and March of 1990, it probably happened while you were listening to "Heaven." However, the true value of this record is the Poison-esque rockers like "Big Talk" and "Ridin' High." You did not bang your head to Warrant; this was actually music you danced danced to (or at least shimmied). The bass sludge is almost non-existent, and the words are delivered with a pop earnesty typically reserved for people like Todd Rundgren. to (or at least shimmied). The bass sludge is almost non-existent, and the words are delivered with a pop earnesty typically reserved for people like Todd Rundgren. Dirty Rotten Dirty Rotten . . . was followed by the even more successful . . . was followed by the even more successful Cherry Pie Cherry Pie, but this remains a better project overall, mostly because it's smarter (in that vapid, yummy kind of way). It also has one of the greatest liner notes of all time: "All concepts by WARRANT." That's right-all concepts concepts (by WARRANT). Hmm. Maybe this was actually supposed to sound like (by WARRANT). Hmm. Maybe this was actually supposed to sound like Aqualung Aqualung. (Jack Factor: $258) David Lee Roth, Eat 'Em and Smile Eat 'Em and Smile (1986, Warner Bros.): Opening with Mr. Roth lying in a gutter and talking to a guitar about his "Yankee Rose," (1986, Warner Bros.): Opening with Mr. Roth lying in a gutter and talking to a guitar about his "Yankee Rose," Eat 'Em and Smile Eat 'Em and Smile bumps and grinds like the whore Dave is, all the way down to a closing stab at being glam metal's Frank Sinatra. The lineup is pretty solid (Stevie Vai on the six-string, Billy Sheehan on the four), and it absolutely blows the doors off Van Hagar's 5150. Though Dave never made a decent record after this one, he gets major props for expertly building a record around a specific personality type: the horny white gigolo who's easy and crazy and wants to shoot you with his elephant gun. No artist has ever bumps and grinds like the whore Dave is, all the way down to a closing stab at being glam metal's Frank Sinatra. The lineup is pretty solid (Stevie Vai on the six-string, Billy Sheehan on the four), and it absolutely blows the doors off Van Hagar's 5150. Though Dave never made a decent record after this one, he gets major props for expertly building a record around a specific personality type: the horny white gigolo who's easy and crazy and wants to shoot you with his elephant gun. No artist has ever needed needed to make a solo album more than Diamond Dave. to make a solo album more than Diamond Dave.

At every wedding dance, there is always one uncle who drinks too much, dances too much, and tells the most ridiculous stories over and over and over again. He's the hero or the goat of every story he tells, and you can never quite tell if he's the most boorish jackass in your family or the most charming fellow you've ever met. David Lee Roth is that uncle, and Eat 'Em and Smile Eat 'Em and Smile is his master work. is his master work. (Jack Factor: $275) (Jack Factor: $275) Bon Jovi, Cross Roads (1994, Mercury): Purists always deride greatest hits records, usually claiming that the songs "lose something" when the order is changed. That's stupid, especially since nobody ever listens to a compact disc in its proper sequence anyway. I'll take the Best of Blondie Best of Blondie over over Parallel Lines Parallel Lines eight days a week, and it certainly seems like everyone at the party has more drinks whenever we play eight days a week, and it certainly seems like everyone at the party has more drinks whenever we play The Best of Van Morrison The Best of Van Morrison instead of Astral Weeks. The same goes for this collection of Jonny B. Jovi's best stuff, and maybe even more so: It seems like the only good Bon Jovi songs were the popular ones. This band has no forgotten gems whatsoever (except maybe "Love Is a Social Disease," but even that's a major stretch). instead of Astral Weeks. The same goes for this collection of Jonny B. Jovi's best stuff, and maybe even more so: It seems like the only good Bon Jovi songs were the popular ones. This band has no forgotten gems whatsoever (except maybe "Love Is a Social Disease," but even that's a major stretch).

What they do offer is happy, sunshine metal that made all the girls shriek and all the guys wear styling gel. I doubt if Jon ever figured out what day it was from what he was drinking (or if he ever even got drunk), but "Wanted Dead or Alive" is a classic road song, copied poorly by about four hundred other bands. "Lay Your Hands on Me" and "Bad Medicine," the melodramatic opening tracks off New Jersey New Jersey, still sound captivating. And in retrospect, "You Give Love a Bad Name" really isn't as horrible as I'd like to remember (if nothing else, it undoubtedly inspired Firehouse's "Don't Treat Me Bad," which I sometimes think might be among the forty finest songs ever released in the U.S.).

Jon Bon Jovi is kind of the Robert Frost of heavy metal. The great thing about Frost was that his poems weren't always about metaphorical bullshit; sometimes a poem about chopping wood chopping wood was actually about chopping wood. Bon Jovi was the same way; he wrote literal lyrics and dulcet melodies, and they didn't worry about credibility or attitude or the legacy of Tony Iommi. We may remember Bon Jovi as the safest of all these metal bands and certainly the most stereotypically commercial, but they were real songwriters who simply tugged at heartstrings instead of brainstrings. That fluffy aesthetic is all over the cowboy-saturated was actually about chopping wood. Bon Jovi was the same way; he wrote literal lyrics and dulcet melodies, and they didn't worry about credibility or attitude or the legacy of Tony Iommi. We may remember Bon Jovi as the safest of all these metal bands and certainly the most stereotypically commercial, but they were real songwriters who simply tugged at heartstrings instead of brainstrings. That fluffy aesthetic is all over the cowboy-saturated Cross Roads Cross Roads. In fact, I even like the inclusion of "Someday I'll Be Saturday Night," despite the fact that Jon sounds a little like a bad Bruce Springsteen or a good Bryan Adams. (Jack Factor: $288) (Jack Factor: $288) Metallica, . . . And Justice for All And Justice for All (1988, Elektra): This inclusion is something of a contradiction, because every Metallica record prior to this one contains better songs. But . . . (1988, Elektra): This inclusion is something of a contradiction, because every Metallica record prior to this one contains better songs. But . . . And Justice for All And Justice for All is far and away the most interesting work the group ever produced; never before had speed metal been so freaky. Seven of the nine tracks are longer than six minutes (two are longer than nine), and Kirk Hammett often seemed to be playing riffs backward (and sometimes sideways), but it never seems flashy or forced. Sometimes I think Hammett is the most underrated guitarist of his generation, even though he bores the piss out of me 80 percent of the time. is far and away the most interesting work the group ever produced; never before had speed metal been so freaky. Seven of the nine tracks are longer than six minutes (two are longer than nine), and Kirk Hammett often seemed to be playing riffs backward (and sometimes sideways), but it never seems flashy or forced. Sometimes I think Hammett is the most underrated guitarist of his generation, even though he bores the piss out of me 80 percent of the time.

As is always the case with Metallica, the majority of the lyrics are apocalyptic hogwash, but this is still an incredibly smart LP that's legitimately experimental. Part of the sonic weirdness comes from a bizarre production decision: You can't hear Jason Newsted's bass lines at all on . . . And Justice for All And Justice for All, and that's intentional. Apparently, his musical exclusion was part of Newsted's "hazing" for having the gall to replace Cliff Burton, the original Metallica bassist who died when a bus fell on him in Europe.

To be honest, it's too bad that bass moratorium was eventually lifted. Ever since this LP came out in '88, Metallica has evolved into a remarkably average band who just happen to play really loud. Everything they've released in the past decade has been boring and weak, with the exception of one cool song about werewolves and a nice cover of Thin Lizzy's "Whiskey in the Jar." But maybe that's what people like me said about Zeppelin in 78. (Jack Factor: $294) Van Halen, Diver Down Diver Down (1982, Warner Bros.): Generally poohpoohed by most devout Halenheads, I find this their most endearing effort. Though it doesn't have a singular killer tune (like, say, "Unchained" off (1982, Warner Bros.): Generally poohpoohed by most devout Halenheads, I find this their most endearing effort. Though it doesn't have a singular killer tune (like, say, "Unchained" off Fair Warning Fair Warning) and even though it's not frenetic or bottomless (like Women and Children First Women and Children First), it's the only VH album that never gets boring, even when it tries to be (i.e., the six minutes and twenty-four seconds of "Cathedral," "Secrets," and "Intruder"). The Marvin Gaye-penned "Dancing in the Street" has been covered by about two hundred artists, but Roth's is the best; I also prefer Dave's take on Roy Orbison's "(Oh) Pretty Woman" and the Kinks' "Where Have All the Good Times Gone!" (though I've never understood why the title of that particular tune is punctuated with an explanation point instead of a question mark; is this not a question, or is it just an enthusiastic cliche?).

Though I can understand why some fans take umbrage with the amount of unoriginal material on this project, I think that's an asinine complaint. Van Halen used to be the greatest cover band in the world, and that means a lot. At its core, the beauty of Van Halen is not Eddie's virtuosity or the strength of its incredible rhythm section; the beauty of Van Halen is that they were fun fun. Along with side two of Van Halen II Van Halen II this was as fun as it ever got. (Jack Factor: $333) this was as fun as it ever got. (Jack Factor: $333) Living Colour, Vivid Vivid (1988, CBS): Mick Jagger produced these rasta rockers, and he even loaned his bulbous lips to the backing vocals on "Glamour Boys," still one of the funniest songs I've ever heard, especially when one tries to imagine little nancy boy Mick claiming he's fierce. But Jagger's influence doesn't go much beyond that chorus (although he did score them the opening slot on the '89 Stones tour). (1988, CBS): Mick Jagger produced these rasta rockers, and he even loaned his bulbous lips to the backing vocals on "Glamour Boys," still one of the funniest songs I've ever heard, especially when one tries to imagine little nancy boy Mick claiming he's fierce. But Jagger's influence doesn't go much beyond that chorus (although he did score them the opening slot on the '89 Stones tour).

Vivid is not swaggering, jukebox metal; it's a well-lubricated record with lots of sheen and purpose. "Cult of Personality" is pretty much a thrash-o-rama that was whittled into a radio tune, but it always hits like a tsunami (I've actually seen it start mosh pits at wedding dances). I think Corey Glover's comparison of Gandhi with Stalin is supposed to make us think about the media (or something), but it really just reminds us that the guys in Living Colour aren't a bunch of morons, which should have been the least of their worries. The simple fact is that is not swaggering, jukebox metal; it's a well-lubricated record with lots of sheen and purpose. "Cult of Personality" is pretty much a thrash-o-rama that was whittled into a radio tune, but it always hits like a tsunami (I've actually seen it start mosh pits at wedding dances). I think Corey Glover's comparison of Gandhi with Stalin is supposed to make us think about the media (or something), but it really just reminds us that the guys in Living Colour aren't a bunch of morons, which should have been the least of their worries. The simple fact is that Vivid Vivid is fabulous when it rocks out, but it's pretty goddamn janky when it tries anything else. It's the same story with 1993's anachronistic is fabulous when it rocks out, but it's pretty goddamn janky when it tries anything else. It's the same story with 1993's anachronistic Stain Stain, a good album that always seems ashamed of itself. Living Colour is one of those hard rock groups who suffer from self-loathing; since all the members seem to think metal bands are stupid, they will ignore what they do best in order to be classified in a different category, even if that means singing a song titled "Open Letter (to a landlord)." When you consider how unintentionally rockin' Vivid Vivid turned out to be, it's frightening to think how awesome this band could have been had they actually tried. turned out to be, it's frightening to think how awesome this band could have been had they actually tried. (Jack Factor: $379) (Jack Factor: $379) Skid Row, Skid Row Skid Row (1989, Atlantic): Like a grizzly that stumbled across a bunch of honey-covered hippies, this is straight-forward carnage: hair-wagging, Bud-guzzling, boot-kicking, no bullshit rock 'n' roll (or (1989, Atlantic): Like a grizzly that stumbled across a bunch of honey-covered hippies, this is straight-forward carnage: hair-wagging, Bud-guzzling, boot-kicking, no bullshit rock 'n' roll (or all all bullshit rock 'n' roll, if you follow my meaning). When I went back and found this cassette in my closet, I was surprised to discover this album came out as late as it did; I tend to remember the Skids being a bigger part of the '80s than they actually were. bullshit rock 'n' roll, if you follow my meaning). When I went back and found this cassette in my closet, I was surprised to discover this album came out as late as it did; I tend to remember the Skids being a bigger part of the '80s than they actually were.

If nothing else, Skid Row deserves credit for being honest; lots of bands claimed their next album was going to be "a lot heavier," and Skid Row is the only band who wasn't lying (1991's Slave to the Grind Slave to the Grind could swing with Megadeth). Still, this debut is the one that matters. The first four songs never relax; Sebastian Bach screams about mammary glands, somebody's sweet little sister (I'm guessing not his), and girls who smoke cigarettes when they cry. "18 and Life" was the pulp that made them famous, and it's one of the rare metal tunes that told a story (Rupert Holmes could probably cover it). "Youth Gone Wild" was their war anthem; it was actually the title of my high school yearbook when I was a senior (and I wasn't even on yearbook staff!). "I Remember You" might have been a bit too stereotypical as the obligatory power ballad, but Baz's range was better than most, and he was too damn anorexic (and too pretty) to ignore. To paraphrase the coolest fifth-grader I never interviewed, Skid Row rules ass. could swing with Megadeth). Still, this debut is the one that matters. The first four songs never relax; Sebastian Bach screams about mammary glands, somebody's sweet little sister (I'm guessing not his), and girls who smoke cigarettes when they cry. "18 and Life" was the pulp that made them famous, and it's one of the rare metal tunes that told a story (Rupert Holmes could probably cover it). "Youth Gone Wild" was their war anthem; it was actually the title of my high school yearbook when I was a senior (and I wasn't even on yearbook staff!). "I Remember You" might have been a bit too stereotypical as the obligatory power ballad, but Baz's range was better than most, and he was too damn anorexic (and too pretty) to ignore. To paraphrase the coolest fifth-grader I never interviewed, Skid Row rules ass. (Jack Factor: $400) (Jack Factor: $400) Cinderella, Long Cold Winter Long Cold Winter (1988, PolyGram): Nobody in the world sounds like Cinderella vocalist Tom Keifer. In the eyes of many, that's probably good. But in the realm of glam, Keifer might have been the most compelling throat around. If there was ever a dude who really did sound like the proverbial "cat caught in the gears of a combine," it was Tommy-and that's a compliment (at least when applied to (1988, PolyGram): Nobody in the world sounds like Cinderella vocalist Tom Keifer. In the eyes of many, that's probably good. But in the realm of glam, Keifer might have been the most compelling throat around. If there was ever a dude who really did sound like the proverbial "cat caught in the gears of a combine," it was Tommy-and that's a compliment (at least when applied to Long Cold Winter Long Cold Winter).

Keif er actually had two voices: a baritone drawl (which he used in the introductions of ballads), and a maddening, nasalinjected screech (which he used for everything else). I realize I'm probably making this music sound horrific, and part of me suspects it probably was, but MAN, was that screech perfect for the first three tracks on this icy rock opera. "Bad Seamstress Blues" is legitimately clever, "Fallin' Apart at the Seams" is simultaneously poofy and menacing, and "Gypsy Road" is just a good, good, good, good, good song.

The hidden gems on Winter Winter are on the flip side, namely "Take Me Back," which is a lot like the KISS hidden gem "Comin' Home" off are on the flip side, namely "Take Me Back," which is a lot like the KISS hidden gem "Comin' Home" off Hotter Than Hell Hotter Than Hell. What's weird is that Cinderella also also has a song titled "Coming Home" (note the addition of the has a song titled "Coming Home" (note the addition of the g g), but it's a different vibe altogether. On "Coming Home," Keifer asks his prospective princess if she's "tough enough" for his love, which is probably a legitimate question: It would be tough to love any guy who was born with Tom's voice. But like I said, it was killer for bluesy poodle rock.

1988 was Cindy's peak; this record went triple platinum, just like their debut (Night Songs). I honestly believe Cinderella was one of the bands who were underrated by almost everyone, except possibly fourteen-year-old girls. Maybe I don't give mall chicks enough credit; maybe it's time to admit that fourteenyear-old girls are the only people in America who truly understand what coolness is supposed to look like. (Jack Factor: $455) (Jack Factor: $455) The Cult, Electric Electric (1987, Sire): Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy have made a lot of records in their career (too many, frankly), but this was their best effort and certainly their most metal. The weird thing about the Cult is that they were a hard rock band that people who hated metal always seemed to dig; I'm constantly running into alt rockers who claim their favorite bands in high school were New Order, Erasure, and the Cult. Generally, these types sing the praises of 1985's (1987, Sire): Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy have made a lot of records in their career (too many, frankly), but this was their best effort and certainly their most metal. The weird thing about the Cult is that they were a hard rock band that people who hated metal always seemed to dig; I'm constantly running into alt rockers who claim their favorite bands in high school were New Order, Erasure, and the Cult. Generally, these types sing the praises of 1985's Love Love (and for some reason, most old-school metal kids tend to align themselves with 1989's (and for some reason, most old-school metal kids tend to align themselves with 1989's Sonic Temple Sonic Temple), but Electric Electric is the band's tastiest cream. is the band's tastiest cream.

There is a surprisingly pleasant sameness to all eleven of these tunes, which spikes during "LiI' Devil" and "King Contrary Man" and dips into painful valleys during the hippy-dippy "Peace Dog" and a godawful cover of "Born to Be Wild.' The most memorable track is "Love Removal Machine/7 which is legitimately surreal; I've always wondered what a love removal machine would look like-probably something like an electric chair attached to a bottle of bourbon. Either way, Duffy's guitar licks sound more like Jimmy Page than Page's himself sounded on Outrider Outrider, and Astbury's coonskin cap is exactly like the one I wore for Halloween in 1979 and 1980, except I was probably a little cooler (but since I didn't know any fourteen-year-old girls at the time, I guess we'll never know). (Jack Factor: $512) (Jack Factor: $512) Poison, Open Up and Say . . . Ahh! Open Up and Say . . . Ahh! (1988, Capitol): Ten seconds into this album, some girl is giving head to Bret Michaels, and "she goes down smooth, like a shot of gin." How smooth is that? Well, to be honest, not very. But that's what was great about Poison: Things like the relative smoothness of gin paled in comparison to the "greater concept," which didn't make any sense but always resulted in driving and looking for girls who were already drunk. (1988, Capitol): Ten seconds into this album, some girl is giving head to Bret Michaels, and "she goes down smooth, like a shot of gin." How smooth is that? Well, to be honest, not very. But that's what was great about Poison: Things like the relative smoothness of gin paled in comparison to the "greater concept," which didn't make any sense but always resulted in driving and looking for girls who were already drunk.*

When Open Up Open Up . . . was released, I remember reading a bunch of reviews where writers claimed it lacked the "rollicking fun" of Poison's first album, . . . was released, I remember reading a bunch of reviews where writers claimed it lacked the "rollicking fun" of Poison's first album, Look What the Cat Dragged In Look What the Cat Dragged In. This confused me, because those same writers had all hated that first record, too. Bret and C. C. didn't get breaks from anyone; I remember hearing fourth-graders fourth-graders bitch about them. And that's probably why this album still seems so refreshing. If Poison cared what people thought of them, they certainly didn't act like it. They had debuted with an album that made kids want to steal Citron from their parents and cum in their jeans- bitch about them. And that's probably why this album still seems so refreshing. If Poison cared what people thought of them, they certainly didn't act like it. They had debuted with an album that made kids want to steal Citron from their parents and cum in their jeans-and then they made another! C. C. De Ville played lead riffs that even I could figure out (and I can't play guitar), but he was better at sucking than almost everyone else in the world. C. C. De Ville played lead riffs that even I could figure out (and I can't play guitar), but he was better at sucking than almost everyone else in the world.

When the guys in Black Sabbath were growing up in Birmingham, they were all poor kids from an industrial neighborhood. When they got famous in the '70s, that social despair poured through their black-hearted music. The guys in Poison grew up in industrial Pennsylvania, and their youth was similarly grim. However, Poison got famous during the 1980s, and they fucking loved it. Open Up and Say . . . Ahh! Open Up and Say . . . Ahh! is an Epicurean affirmation of all that is great about cheesy, plastic rock 'n' roll. It wasn't merely that Poison wanted nothing but a good time-they asked the world why they were supposed to want anything else. And in 1988, that was a good question. is an Epicurean affirmation of all that is great about cheesy, plastic rock 'n' roll. It wasn't merely that Poison wanted nothing but a good time-they asked the world why they were supposed to want anything else. And in 1988, that was a good question. (Jack Factor: $555) (Jack Factor: $555) Faster Pussycat, Faster Pussycat Faster Pussycat (1987, Elektra): As a sophomore in high school, I didn't know who the fuck Russ Meyer was, so I thought this was a really wussie name for a rock group. Truth is, they (1987, Elektra): As a sophomore in high school, I didn't know who the fuck Russ Meyer was, so I thought this was a really wussie name for a rock group. Truth is, they were were pretty much wussies, but they were some of the most streetwise wussies in L.A. (and if you don't believe me, go rent pretty much wussies, but they were some of the most streetwise wussies in L.A. (and if you don't believe me, go rent The Decline of Western Civilization, Part II The Decline of Western Civilization, Part II). Almost of all of this LP is terrific, particularly the black-and-bluesy sleaze on "Don't Change That Song" and "Cathouse." Most of the initial attention surrounding this album was granted to "Babylon," a rap song that seemed like an attempt to rip off Anthrax's attempt at ripping off Licensed to III Licensed to III, but it sure seemed funny at the time.

However, it was the second side of Faster Pussycat Faster Pussycat that paid the rent. "Smash Alley" examined the downside of high heels and switchblades and also reminded me that I should probably listen to my Smashed Gladys cassette more often. "Ship Rolls In" was pretty much an Aerosmith song, but it wonderfully captured the identity of glam metal in three lines from vocalist/fellatio advocate Taime Downe: "You gotta roll with the punches, spin like a top / I ain't got much, but I got a lot of PER-SO-NAL-ITEEEE / And that's all that counts." Taime, you're pretty smart for a wussy. ( that paid the rent. "Smash Alley" examined the downside of high heels and switchblades and also reminded me that I should probably listen to my Smashed Gladys cassette more often. "Ship Rolls In" was pretty much an Aerosmith song, but it wonderfully captured the identity of glam metal in three lines from vocalist/fellatio advocate Taime Downe: "You gotta roll with the punches, spin like a top / I ain't got much, but I got a lot of PER-SO-NAL-ITEEEE / And that's all that counts." Taime, you're pretty smart for a wussy. (Jack Factor: $580) Vinnie Vincent, Invasion Invasion (1986, Chrysalis): Like a Tasmanian devil whirling toward vaginas and self-destruction, the guitarmageddon unleashed by ex-KISS wackmobile Vincent on this solo debut is so schlockily stunning that I still have to play this album at least six times every year. (1986, Chrysalis): Like a Tasmanian devil whirling toward vaginas and self-destruction, the guitarmageddon unleashed by ex-KISS wackmobile Vincent on this solo debut is so schlockily stunning that I still have to play this album at least six times every year.

Never was metal as brilliantly self-indulgent as it was on Invasion Invasion (which would soon become part of the group's actual name, hence the better known moniker "Vinnie Vincent Invasion"). After this first record, the group hired Mark Slaughter's throat and Vinnie went to hell, both as a rocker and as a human being (for all I know, Vinnie now lives on the moon and wears his Egyptian ankh makeup whenever he surfs the Internet for (which would soon become part of the group's actual name, hence the better known moniker "Vinnie Vincent Invasion"). After this first record, the group hired Mark Slaughter's throat and Vinnie went to hell, both as a rocker and as a human being (for all I know, Vinnie now lives on the moon and wears his Egyptian ankh makeup whenever he surfs the Internet for alt.talk.creaturesofthenight alt.talk.creaturesofthenight). But for select moments on Invasion Invasion, V V is the fastest, craziest, and downright best six six-string shredder to ever wear pinkish lavender in public.

Right from track number one, you know what you're getting: "Boys Are Gonna Rock" has two and a half guitar two and a half guitar solos. Singer Robert Fleischman screams about sadomasochism and ejaculations, but-for all practical purposes-this may as well be an instrumental album. At the conclusion of "Animal," Vincent plays faster and harder and faster and harder and faster and stupider and he's going nowhere but he's getting there fast and now your neighbors are banging on the wall and your bookcase speakers are starting to melt and your beagle is in obvious pain and suddenly you suspect that everything in your house is going to IMPLODE. And then Vinnie collapses, and then you hear six seconds of reverb. And then the next song begins (with a guitar solo). It should be also noted that solos. Singer Robert Fleischman screams about sadomasochism and ejaculations, but-for all practical purposes-this may as well be an instrumental album. At the conclusion of "Animal," Vincent plays faster and harder and faster and harder and faster and stupider and he's going nowhere but he's getting there fast and now your neighbors are banging on the wall and your bookcase speakers are starting to melt and your beagle is in obvious pain and suddenly you suspect that everything in your house is going to IMPLODE. And then Vinnie collapses, and then you hear six seconds of reverb. And then the next song begins (with a guitar solo). It should be also noted that Invasion Invasion ultimately ends with 151 seconds of Vincent replicating a car alarm (or perhaps a grain elevator). This is rock 'n' roll. This is rock 'n' roll? This is rock 'n' roll! ultimately ends with 151 seconds of Vincent replicating a car alarm (or perhaps a grain elevator). This is rock 'n' roll. This is rock 'n' roll? This is rock 'n' roll! (Jack Factor: $675) (Jack Factor: $675) Def Leppard, Pyromania Pyromania (1983, PolyGram): First of all, let me say-purely as a fan-I probably prefer Lep's 1981 release High 'n' Dry. The title track on that record smokes everything here, and "Let It Go" is dandy rock candy. But I also realize that (1983, PolyGram): First of all, let me say-purely as a fan-I probably prefer Lep's 1981 release High 'n' Dry. The title track on that record smokes everything here, and "Let It Go" is dandy rock candy. But I also realize that Pyromania Pyromania is the better record. For a bunch of twenty-one-year-old alcoholics in need of personalities, the level of musical sophistication on is the better record. For a bunch of twenty-one-year-old alcoholics in need of personalities, the level of musical sophistication on Pyromania Pyromania is amazing. I suppose the majority of that credit should go to Robert "Mutt" Lange, who earned the right to sleep with Shania Twain for producing an album this immaculate. The knock against Def Leppard has always been that they're "overproduced," which is precisely what artists want when they ask Lange to engineer their records. Most producers-like Bob Rock, for example-took metal bands and tried to capture the "liveness" of the sound (when Rock did Motley Crue's is amazing. I suppose the majority of that credit should go to Robert "Mutt" Lange, who earned the right to sleep with Shania Twain for producing an album this immaculate. The knock against Def Leppard has always been that they're "overproduced," which is precisely what artists want when they ask Lange to engineer their records. Most producers-like Bob Rock, for example-took metal bands and tried to capture the "liveness" of the sound (when Rock did Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood Dr. Feelgood, he played up the guitar tones and Tommy Lee's orangutan drumming). Lange does the opposite; he works more like a smart copyeditor. Everything is polished until it's ultraclean and hyperefficient, so you only notice the main riff and the soaring vocals (this was even more obvious when he produced Back in Black Back in Black).

Granted, this kind of recording philosophy doesn't work with a lot of artists. But it's a perfect recipe for a legitimately talented metal outfit, and that's exactly what Def Leppard was. "Rock! Rock! (Till You Drop)" is the ideal opening, and "Photograph" is the best Journey song ever made. Pyromania Pyromania is infected with a bunch of pre-irony studio gimmicks (like the intro to "Rock of Ages" and the supposedly "space age" crap after track ten), but it doesn't have any bad songs, either. is infected with a bunch of pre-irony studio gimmicks (like the intro to "Rock of Ages" and the supposedly "space age" crap after track ten), but it doesn't have any bad songs, either.

Critics of '80s hard rock sometimes point to Pyromania Pyromania as an example of what was wrong with the whole industry: The stock argument is that this record is sanitized arena pop that doesn't deliver as an example of what was wrong with the whole industry: The stock argument is that this record is sanitized arena pop that doesn't deliver anything anything that could affect a listener-the lyrics are about nothing, the music is perfectly calculated, there's no emotional investment by the artist, and there's not even a that could affect a listener-the lyrics are about nothing, the music is perfectly calculated, there's no emotional investment by the artist, and there's not even a constructed constructed sense of humanity. However, the only person who would come up with that kind of analysis is somebody who simply hates heavy metal and wants to make up a bunch of reasons to explain why Fifteen years later, I can experience the same concepts I heard in my bedroom when I first got sense of humanity. However, the only person who would come up with that kind of analysis is somebody who simply hates heavy metal and wants to make up a bunch of reasons to explain why Fifteen years later, I can experience the same concepts I heard in my bedroom when I first got Pyromania Pyromania from the RCA Music Service: Controlled aggression that cloaked an Orwellian fear (witness "Stagefright," "Die Hard the Hunter," "Foolin'," and "Billy's Got a Gun"). It's stupid to blame Def Leppard for being flawless. from the RCA Music Service: Controlled aggression that cloaked an Orwellian fear (witness "Stagefright," "Die Hard the Hunter," "Foolin'," and "Billy's Got a Gun"). It's stupid to blame Def Leppard for being flawless. Pyromania Pyromania was metal's was metal's Pretzel Logic Pretzel Logic-a studio masterpiece that validated the genre. (Jack Factor: $877) (Jack Factor: $877) Guns N' Roses, GNR Lies GNR Lies, (1988, Geffen): When we first heard this eight-song EP, we all thought the live material on side one was tits and the acoustic stuff on side two was girlie crap. Over time, the conventional wisdom revolved into the opinion that the "R" side was brilliant and the "G" side wasn't worth listening to. Ten years later, I have rediscovered the value of the former without losing respect for the latter (or maybe it's the other way around).

Lies opens with "Reckless Life," an accelerated rocker that would seem to be the resume for the whole GNR experiment. That blows into a cover of "Nice Boys," which works because Axl Rose really does seem like a opens with "Reckless Life," an accelerated rocker that would seem to be the resume for the whole GNR experiment. That blows into a cover of "Nice Boys," which works because Axl Rose really does seem like a boy boy. Of course, that makes everything a bit awkward on "Move to the City," because suddenly Axl becomes a girl who stole her daddy's credit card-but by the time they're halfway through a rote version of "Mama Kin," nobody cares anyway.

Logic would dictate that the lyrics on the flip side should seem less shocking as time passes, but I find them more spooky today than I did in high school. As I grow older, I'm still intrigued by what Axl was so angry about. His inability to replicate this kind of ferocious emotion on future releases makes me suspect it must have been genuine; if it had all just been a show, you'd think he could do it anytime he stepped into a studio. There seems to be something obviously wrong with Axl Rose's brain, and it's the kind of three-act neurosis that ruins a man's life, makes a man famous, and then ruins his life again (and usually in that order). Side two of GNR Lies GNR Lies, is the peak of Act II. (Jack Factor: $920) (Jack Factor: $920) Ozzy Osbourne, Blizzard of Ozz/Diary of a Madman Blizzard of Ozz/Diary of a Madman (both 1981, Jet): Obviously, this is kind of cheating, because I'm counting two albums as one. But it's almost impossible to separate these first two releases from Osbourne's solo career. If there is truly such a thing as "companion albums," these two would be the defining example (um . . . okay-I mean if you (both 1981, Jet): Obviously, this is kind of cheating, because I'm counting two albums as one. But it's almost impossible to separate these first two releases from Osbourne's solo career. If there is truly such a thing as "companion albums," these two would be the defining example (um . . . okay-I mean if you don't don't count count Rubber Soul Rubber Soul and and Revolver Revolver).

Blizzard and and Diary Diary are, of course, the only two albums Ozzy made with Randy Rhoads, and Oz has apparently never recovered; Ozzy insists the twenty-eight months he worked with Randy seem longer than the rest of his life combined. He talks about Rhoads the way most people would discuss a deceased wife (on the liner notes to 1987's are, of course, the only two albums Ozzy made with Randy Rhoads, and Oz has apparently never recovered; Ozzy insists the twenty-eight months he worked with Randy seem longer than the rest of his life combined. He talks about Rhoads the way most people would discuss a deceased wife (on the liner notes to 1987's Tribute Tribute, he says Rhoads was what he had "dreamed about" in a guitar player and credits him with ending his depression). Part of that loss might be purely practical: Rhoads's ability as a player is-at times-stunning. The conventional wisdom is that Blizzard of Ozz Blizzard of Ozz is a masterpiece and is a masterpiece and Diary of a Madman Diary of a Madman sounds rushed and uneven, but I think they're equally excellent. In fact, I probably prefer the sophomore release. sounds rushed and uneven, but I think they're equally excellent. In fact, I probably prefer the sophomore release.

Blizzard of Ozz was the perfect vehicle for Osbourne's solo ascension, because it's basically Sabbath music played wicked fast. There was a vaguely classical quality to Tony lommi's playing, and Rhoads took that one step further (and got there quicker). Over his thirty-year career, "Crazy Train" stands as the best song Ozzy ever yowled. In his book was the perfect vehicle for Osbourne's solo ascension, because it's basically Sabbath music played wicked fast. There was a vaguely classical quality to Tony lommi's playing, and Rhoads took that one step further (and got there quicker). Over his thirty-year career, "Crazy Train" stands as the best song Ozzy ever yowled. In his book Running with the Devil Running with the Devil, Robert Walser points out how the guitar riff on "Suicide Solution" jibes with the lyrics: a cycling, disturbing drone that virtually mirrors clinical depression. Top to bottom, this is simply a good record-it's remarkably well-conceived and wisely structured.

Those two statements probably can't be made about Diary of a Madman Diary of a Madman, but it doesn't matter, because Rhoads's effort is even better. I generally find guitar solos pretty boring (doesn't everybody?), but I can listen to these; "Over the Mountain" might be more clever than ingenious, but it always blows me away. "Flying High Again" is intended to be this album's "Crazy Train" (it's even in the same place-track two), and I think it sort of succeeds in that attempt (it's also the last song Ozzy made that was indisputably pro-drug). There are a couple of nice slower tracks on Diary Diary-I especially like "Tonight," which could have been a huge single had it been released five years later-but the real kicker is the intro to the title track. For no particular reason, Rhoads plays twenty-five seconds of the Doors' "Spanish Caravan." It's not central to the album (or even to the song), but it's neat neat. It's the kind of decision that all the guitar hacks who followed him never seemed to make.

I realize that Rhoads tends to get lionized because he died, and it's very possible that these records seem so remarkable simply because we are left with nothing else (except for a few early Quiet Riot demos). But this is very good rock music, and that has nothing to do with any plane crashes. (Jack Factor: $1,000) (Jack Factor: $1,000) Motley Crue, Too Fast for Love Too Fast for Love (1982, Elektra): Perhaps you're wondering why I'm including this album instead of (1982, Elektra): Perhaps you're wondering why I'm including this album instead of Shout at the Devil Shout at the Devil, the Crue record I so aggressively pimped in the opening pages of this book. Well, two reasons: for one thing, I'm sick of talking about Shout Shout, and-quite frankly-this is a better LP I've never been too crazy about the popular opener "Live Wire," a song Motley still plays in every concert. However, I adore "Come On and Dance" (even though it's almost impossible to dance to) and "Public Enemy #1" (even though the lyrics never mention what atrocity our antagonist supposedly committed). Too Fast for Love Too Fast for Love was originally released by the band independently on Lethur Records (they tossed them into club audiences while Nikki Sixx's boots burned), and the Elektra re-release still seems a little cheap; Vince Neil's vocals sound shallow, and at least in this instance it's not his fault. The guitars all sound like they're made of tin, but that gives everything an aluminum sheen. Light metal (or metal lite), I suppose. was originally released by the band independently on Lethur Records (they tossed them into club audiences while Nikki Sixx's boots burned), and the Elektra re-release still seems a little cheap; Vince Neil's vocals sound shallow, and at least in this instance it's not his fault. The guitars all sound like they're made of tin, but that gives everything an aluminum sheen. Light metal (or metal lite), I suppose.

The strength of Too Fast Too Fast is the stylized trashiness; it's the Crue at their glammiest and (one hopes) most sincere. Still, the crafty marketing of Nikki Sixx is already obvious: The cover art is such a rote is the stylized trashiness; it's the Crue at their glammiest and (one hopes) most sincere. Still, the crafty marketing of Nikki Sixx is already obvious: The cover art is such a rote Sticky Fingers Sticky Fingers rip-off that it qualifies as an homage-but almost none of its intended audience had ever seen the original! As a selling tool, Vince Neil's crotch worked rip-off that it qualifies as an homage-but almost none of its intended audience had ever seen the original! As a selling tool, Vince Neil's crotch worked exactly exactly the same way Warhol groupie Jed Johnson's did. Just like the music, it was old material that seemed completely fresh to thirteen-year-old kids with no sense of history (like me, for example). the same way Warhol groupie Jed Johnson's did. Just like the music, it was old material that seemed completely fresh to thirteen-year-old kids with no sense of history (like me, for example).

The title cut is probably the album's best rocker, while the closing ballad "On with the Show" is the finest slow song the band would ever make (it's twice as gut-wrenching as "Home Sweet Home," which basically means it's half as gut-wrenching as Big Star's "Holocaust" and one-tenth as effective as Snoopy, Come Home Snoopy, Come Home). The only misstep was the baffling exclusion of "Toast of the Town," the very first single Motley ever released (and in case you're curious, the B-side was "Stick to Your Guns"). Fortunately, that track was reincluded on the '99 re-release.

It will be interesting to see how Motley Crue is eventually categorized by rock historians; I sometimes wonder if they'll end up being the '80s version of Nazareth or Foghat. They honestly deserve better. When you place heavy metal in a cultural context, Too Fast for Love Too Fast for Love is the kind of album that kind-of-sortof matters. Whenever you forget what made glam metal so ridiculously popular, listen to this record. This is what happened when four Hollywood hobos got it right. (Jack Factor: $1,333) is the kind of album that kind-of-sortof matters. Whenever you forget what made glam metal so ridiculously popular, listen to this record. This is what happened when four Hollywood hobos got it right. (Jack Factor: $1,333) Guns N' Roses, Appetite for Destruction Appetite for Destruction (1987, Geffen): Well, this is pretty much it. (1987, Geffen): Well, this is pretty much it.

Appetite for Destruction is the singular answer to the question, "Why did hair metal need to exist?" After all the coke and the car wrecks and the screaming and the creaming and the musical masturbation and the pentagrams and the dead hookers, this is what we are left with-the best record of the 1980s, regardless of genre. If asked to list the ten best rock albums of all time, this is the only pop metal release that might make the list; it's certainly the only Reagan-era material that can compete with the White Album and is the singular answer to the question, "Why did hair metal need to exist?" After all the coke and the car wrecks and the screaming and the creaming and the musical masturbation and the pentagrams and the dead hookers, this is what we are left with-the best record of the 1980s, regardless of genre. If asked to list the ten best rock albums of all time, this is the only pop metal release that might make the list; it's certainly the only Reagan-era material that can compete with the White Album and Rumours Rumours and and Electric Warrior Electric Warrior. Appetite for Destruction Appetite for Destruction is an is an Exile on Main Street Exile on Main Street for all the kids born in '72, except for all the kids born in '72, except Appetite Appetite rocks harder and doesn't get boring in the middle. It bastardizes every early Aerosmith record, but all the lyrics are smarter and Axl is a better dancer. rocks harder and doesn't get boring in the middle. It bastardizes every early Aerosmith record, but all the lyrics are smarter and Axl is a better dancer.

Part of the credit for the success of this five-headed juggernaut has to go to Nigel Dick, the faceless fellow who directed all the videos for GNR'S early singles. One needs to remember that Appetite Appetite was out for almost a year before it cracked the was out for almost a year before it cracked the Billboard Billboard Top 10 in 1988. Most people assume that this was because of the single "Sweet Child O' Mine," but the real reason was the video for "Welcome to the Jungle." The first fifteen seconds of that vid explain everything we need to know: Axl gets off a bus in downtown L.A. with a piece of friggin' Top 10 in 1988. Most people assume that this was because of the single "Sweet Child O' Mine," but the real reason was the video for "Welcome to the Jungle." The first fifteen seconds of that vid explain everything we need to know: Axl gets off a bus in downtown L.A. with a piece of friggin' hay hay in his mouth (and evidently, he didn't do much chewing during the twenty-six-hour bus ride from Indiana, because it still looks pretty fresh). The first time I heard this song, I was riding the Octopus at the North Dakota State Fair in Minot, and I had no idea what the fuck it was supposed to be about-but I still kinda liked it. When I saw this video two months later, I realized that Axl wasn't welcoming me to the jungle, people were welcoming in his mouth (and evidently, he didn't do much chewing during the twenty-six-hour bus ride from Indiana, because it still looks pretty fresh). The first time I heard this song, I was riding the Octopus at the North Dakota State Fair in Minot, and I had no idea what the fuck it was supposed to be about-but I still kinda liked it. When I saw this video two months later, I realized that Axl wasn't welcoming me to the jungle, people were welcoming him him. Suddenly, the whole album made a lot more sense: Axl Rose was screaming because he was scared.

From the brazen misogyny of "It's So Easy" to the pleading vulnerability of "Rocket Queen," the album is a relentless exercise in high-concept sleaze. "Nightrain" is my personal favorite; Axl insists he's "one bad mutha," and he proves it by waking up his whore and making her buy four-dollar wine with her Visa card. "Mr. Brownstone" is hard funk on hard drugs, and it cleverly tells us how rock stars are supposed to live-you wake up at seven, you get out of bed at nine, and you always take the stage two hours late. "Paradise City" is probably the musical high point; it has GNR's signature soft-heavy-soft vocal sequence and the best chorus in metal history. "Paradise City" still seems like a disco classic waiting to happen.

The flip side is a little dirtier, starting with the unsettling "My Michele" and the semisweet "Think About You." The material is dark and purposefully hidden (kind of like Slash's eyes, I suppose), and the drums are ferocious; it sounds like Steven Adler is setting off cherry bombs in his drum kit. And through it all, the guitar playing is stellar. On Appetite for Destruction Appetite for Destruction, Slash invented a new style of playing that's best described as "blues punk." He simultaneously sounds raw and polished-the master craftsman who came to work loaded. It was a style that sold 15 million records, but almost nobody managed to copy it (including Slash, who never really got it right again-even when he consciously tried on 1993's The Spaghetti Incident? The Spaghetti Incident?).

There are those who will argue that the best thing that could have happened to Guns N' Roses would have been death, probably in about 1991. They were certainly on the right path (in fact, the rumor persists that David Geffen wanted Use Your Illusion Use Your Illusion to be a double album because he suspected someone in the band would be dead before they could cut anything else). From a romantic (read: selfish) perspective, there's some truth to this argument; it would be nice if to be a double album because he suspected someone in the band would be dead before they could cut anything else). From a romantic (read: selfish) perspective, there's some truth to this argument; it would be nice if Appetite for Destruction Appetite for Destruction was all we really knew about this band of gypsies; Axl would have never lost his hair and the Gunners would have never become such bloated disasters. was all we really knew about this band of gypsies; Axl would have never lost his hair and the Gunners would have never become such bloated disasters.

Since Rose legally obtained the rights to the name Guns N' Roses in 1991, GNR is Axl Rose for all practical (and impractical) purposes. Put Axl onstage with the starting five of the Quad City Thunder, and that qualifies as "the new Guns N' Roses." The group still exists, but it's almost like comparing Jefferson Airplane to Starship: As I write this, the ever-evolving lineup consists of Axl, Dizzy Reed, former Replacements' bassist Tommy Stinson, Buckethead (a robot-obsessed guitar freak who wears a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket on his dome), Robin Finck of Nine Inch Nails, Brian "Brain" Mantia (the drummer from Primus who replaced Josh Freese, the guy from the Vandals who played on the new Guns record but has also quit the band since the album's completion), and what amounts to Axl's buddies from high school. The next album's working title is Chinese Democracy Chinese Democracy and it's rumored to be aggressive industrial metal in the spirit of Led Zeppelin, filtered through the sensibilities of Stevie Wonder; I can only imagine what this will be like, although it's safe to assume it will be twice as good as Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds, three times as good Slash's Snakepit, and five hundred times better than anything Duff McKagan ever released. But it will never be as good as this, and I suspect Axl and it's rumored to be aggressive industrial metal in the spirit of Led Zeppelin, filtered through the sensibilities of Stevie Wonder; I can only imagine what this will be like, although it's safe to assume it will be twice as good as Izzy Stradlin and the Ju Ju Hounds, three times as good Slash's Snakepit, and five hundred times better than anything Duff McKagan ever released. But it will never be as good as this, and I suspect Axl* knows it. knows it. (Jack Factor: $5,001) (Jack Factor: $5,001)

*Driving around aimlessly and going nowhere is an aspect of small-town culture few people from urban communities truly understand, but it's pretty much the backbone of teen life in places like Wyndmere. We drove our parents' cars around the same path endlessly for several hours every weekend evening: The route ran from the Cenex station, north to Main Street (where you made a U-turn in front of the bankrupt lumberyard), down the residential stretch of Highway 18 for about a mile, east past the Tastee Freez (and through the town's only stop light), and then back to Cenex. The total distance of one rotation is 2.8 miles. Whenever you wanted to talk to someone in another car, you hit your brake lights twice when they passed you, which indicated that they were supposed to meet you in the parking lot of the high school bus barn. The fundamental goal was to make the local police officer follow your particular vehicle, which is why I'll always begrudgingly adore that Gin Blossoms song where the dude sings, "We can drive around this town / And let the cops chase us around."

*This analysis was somewhat complicated by the May 11, 2000, issue of Rolling Stone Rolling Stone magazine, which essentially described Rose as a nocturnal New Age freak who spends much of his time in Sedona, a pseudo-spiritual Narnia in the Arizona desert. The article implied Chinese Democracy will probably never be released, but Tm confident it will eventually come out-however, I have no clue when that will be. When I started writing this manuscript in 1998, I jokingly said I wanted to have it published before the next GNR record, and (at this point) I think I still have a legitimate shot. Meanwhile, my aforementioned buddy Mr. Pancake now lives near Sedona and told me he'd keep an eye out for Axl's aura. magazine, which essentially described Rose as a nocturnal New Age freak who spends much of his time in Sedona, a pseudo-spiritual Narnia in the Arizona desert. The article implied Chinese Democracy will probably never be released, but Tm confident it will eventually come out-however, I have no clue when that will be. When I started writing this manuscript in 1998, I jokingly said I wanted to have it published before the next GNR record, and (at this point) I think I still have a legitimate shot. Meanwhile, my aforementioned buddy Mr. Pancake now lives near Sedona and told me he'd keep an eye out for Axl's aura.

Appetite for Replication She is not a beautiful woman.

She is not necessarily repulsive, I suppose, but no one is going to suspect this woman is an upstart actress or an aspiring model. One assumes there aren't a lot of actresses or models in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, and one assumes even fewer would be working in a roadside cafe at 5:55 A.M. on Saturday morning. But for the next ten minutes, this aging red-haired woman is being treated like the foxiest rock chick in Appalachia. For a few post-dawn moments on this particular Saturday, she might as well be Tawny Kitaen.

"Do you like Guns N' Roses?" asks Randy Trask, the bespectacled twenty-eight-year-old who talks more than the other five people at the table combined. "We're a Guns N' Roses tribute band. I'm Axl. We're doing a show tonight in Harrisonburg. You gotta come. It's only like four hours away. Bring all your girlfriends. It's going to be insane insane. They love us in Harrisonburg. But I need to see you there. I'm the singer. I play Axl."

The waitress blushes like a middle-school crossing guard and calls Trask a sweetheart. She tells us that she can't come to the show because her grandfather is dying, and you can tell she's not lying. In a weird way, this might be flirting. When she leaves to fetch our pancakes, Trask glows like the MTV logo, circa 1988. Before we leave the restaurant, he will give this not-so-anorexic waitress a hug and aggressively declare that we will stop back to see her on our way home tomorrow afternoon.

"Exit 175. Remember that. This restaurant is off Exit 175," he says when we crawl back into the pickup. "What did I tell you? There's just something about me and redheads."

In truth, Mr. Trask should be be a redhead. His overt blondness- along with the fact that he's six-foot-four-makes him look more like David Lee Roth than W. Axl Rose, and he knows it. "I am going to dye my hair red. That is definitely in the works," he says. "It's just that the last time I tried, it turned sort of pink. And for some reason, people get scared of you when you have red hair. I don't know why that it is, but it's true. They just don't warm up to you the way they do if you're blond." a redhead. His overt blondness- along with the fact that he's six-foot-four-makes him look more like David Lee Roth than W. Axl Rose, and he knows it. "I am going to dye my hair red. That is definitely in the works," he says. "It's just that the last time I tried, it turned sort of pink. And for some reason, people get scared of you when you have red hair. I don't know why that it is, but it's true. They just don't warm up to you the way they do if you're blond."

Trask tells me this at ten minutes to midnight while we sit in his 1997 extended-cab Ford Ranger pickup, which we will drive from Cincinnati to northern Virginia for tomorrow night's rock show. It's roughly a ten-hour drive, so leaving in the middle of the night should get us to town just in time to check into the Hampton Inn for an afternoon nap. There is some concern about this, because the last time Trask and his band mates in Paradise City were in Harrisonburg they were banned for life from the Econo Lodge. This weekend, they need to make sure things go smoothly at the Hampton; there just aren't that many hotels in Harrisonburg.

Our pickup is sitting outside the home of Paul Dischner, and the engine is idling. Like Trask, Dischner is striving to be someone else; he's supposed to be Izzy Stradlin, Guns N' Roses original rhythm guitar player. In the band Paradise City, everybody is supposed to be someone else. That's the idea.

"I initially had a problem with the idea of doing a Guns N' Roses tribute, because I didn't want anyone to think I was discrediting Axl. That was always my main concern. If Axl was somehow against this, I'd straight up quit. I would never do this if he disapproved," Trask says. "But I really think we can do his songs justice. People constantly tell me, 'You sound better than Axl,' but I always say, 'Whoa now, slow down.' Because I like the way I sing Axl's songs, but I love love the way Axl sings them. That's the main thing I'm concerned about with this article: I do not want this to say anything negative about Guns N' Roses. That's all I ask." the way Axl sings them. That's the main thing I'm concerned about with this article: I do not want this to say anything negative about Guns N' Roses. That's all I ask."

I am the first reporter who has ever done a story on Paradise City. This is less a commentary on Paradise City and more a commentary on the tribute band phenomenon, arguably the most universally maligned sector of rock 'n' roll. These are bands mired in obscurity and engaged in a bizarrely postmodern zerosum game: If a tribute band were to completely succeed, its members would no longer have personalities. They would have no character whatsoever, beyond the qualities of whomever they tried to emulate. The goal is not to be somebody; the goal is be somebody else.

Though the Beatles and Elvis Presley were the first artists to spawn impersonators, the modern tribute template was mostly set by groups like Strutter, Hotter than Hell, and Cold Gin, all of whom toured in the early nineties by looking, acting, and singing like the 1978 version of KISS. It worked a little better than anyone could have expected: People would sooner pay $10 to see four guys pretending to be KISS than $5 to see four guys playing original songs nobody had ever heard before. And club owners understand money. There are now hundreds-probably thousands-of rock bands who make a living by method acting. There's the Atomic Punks, a Van Halen tribute that celebrates the band's Roth era. Battery is a tribute to Metallica. Planet Earth are L.A. based Duran Duran clones. Bjorn Again claims to be Australia's finest ABBA tribute. AC/DShe is an all-female AC/DC cover group from San Francisco. There are tributes to groups who never seemed that popular to begin with (Badfinger, Thin Lizzy, Dream Theater), and there are tributes to bands who are not altogether difficult to see for real (The Dave Matthews Band, Creed). And though rock critics deride Stone Temple Pilots and Oasis for ripping off other artists, drunk people in rural bars pay good money to see tribute bands rip off Stone Temple Pilots and Oasis as accurately as possible.