Showing posts with label hair metal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair metal. Show all posts

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Songs From Movies About Musicians: Anvil, Metal on Metal


Purchase Anvil, Metal on Metal from the documentary, Anvil: The Story of Anvil.


OK, I’m going to start this the wrong way, like some apologist whose nothing but guilty of the thing he’s apologizing for…what do they call that, when someone effusively apologizes for something in order to make it seem as if they aren’t guilty of the exact thing they are expressing shame about… hypocrisy?

And what exactly will I be protesting? That I don’t like Metal. I really don’t. I did. But that was a long time ago. I’d rather you not know that. But, now that I’ve written it, let’s leave it where it is.

I’m a little embarrassed at the fact that I used to think the likes of Poison, Cinderella, Dokken, et al were the shit. Big S Shit. I wanted desperately to be able to grown my hair long. I wore a torn and frayed denim jacket, festooned with as many patches as I could fit on it: Def Leppard, Van Halen, Judas Priest, et al. The main back patch was of Iron Maiden’s Eddie, dressed a British infantryman from their greatest song, “The Trooper.”  I wore wrester’s high-top shoes (I don’t know where that came from, but it was the metal thing to do). I wore a mullet since my hair is naturally curly and the only part that would grow reasonably straight was the back. I looked like a tool. 

I was abruptly pulled out of my teenage haze of hairspray and spandex and Ibanez guitars when someone introduced me to R.E.M. It was a simple change over, like a trigger pull. I went from listening to bad music, because that’s what everyone else was listening, to being a music snob. Someone who listened to good music.  Someone who was openly critical of other’s musical tastes.  I would hazard that a lot of you were/are the same…you know who you are. It’s OK; music appreciation is part intellectual, part tribal, and all an affair of the heart. My development of said musical appreciation  is a long history, of which I gone into at varying degrees in my writing for this blog, so I won’t digress too deeply into my own tutelage and history.  Except to say: sometimes your past isn’t at as far a remove as you’d like to think.

Exhibit A: My Spotify library has many of Iron Maidens albums
Exhibit B: I have an ipod playlist called “Hair Metal Faves”
Exhibit C: my obsession with the documentary Anvil: The Story of Anvil

Directed by their former roadie, this film is a documentary about Anvil, a little known metal band, and, is simply put: brilliant. It is both heartbreaking and hilarious, but in the end, as uplifting a human story as I’ve ever seen. The “tragedy” of the band fuels the emotional drive of the story, and in a sense proves that the tragedy need not be one that moves us to despair to raise the spirit to a place one finds a sense of thankfulness or self-perspective.  To get a sense of the film, you should know: Anvil are a Canadian metal outfit that put out an album in 1982 that is considered by most metal luminaries as singularly influential. Metallica and Anthrax, Slash, Lemmy, Slayer all fill the film with stunning testimony to the energy and excitement that Anvil brought to the stage and how they seemed poised to reach the very pinnacle of metal triumph.

And then…nothing. Anvil disappeared from the main stream and seemingly into the lore of bands that “might of.” But, they never really went away. The film details the story of how mainstays Steve “Lips” Kudlow (lead vox) and drummer Robb Reiner toiled through decades of obscurity and all the inglorious humiliations of being a band that had tasted success but never quite made it. Nor ever quit. There’s a lot to this film that makes it great. It is a meditation of youthful ambition, on failure and will. It is about friendship and family, but mostly it’s about grit. About never giving in and never giving up. The movie is at times heartbreaking, but in the end, it’s an important film—the message is powerful:  stick to what you know you want and what you’re capable of, despite what happens along the way and all the people who will tell you that you can’t.

I started off talking about how I was embarrassed to admit I used to be into metal. I’m not saying that Anvil was an amazing band—at least not by my standards. I don’t really see the “influence” that the people in film talk about. But, their story, their singular story, is inspiring, fable-like, joyously uplifting. You don’t have to like metal to hope the members of Anvil have achieved success, finally, and the kind of happiness that would bring. You don’t have to like metal to cheer them at the end of the film, maybe even bang your head, if just a little. Because, despite their “tragic” career arc, what you come away from this film is that Kudlow and Reiner are happy, are capable of being joyful, despite the near surreal oddness and frustration of their band’s story. And that is where the sheer brilliance of this movie, and their story, come to the fore: rarely will you ever see a lesson of determination illustrated and perfectly as than in the story of Anvil.

If you haven’t seen Anvil yet, go get it now. The film will stay with you and you just might get their signature tune, “Metal on Metal”, stuck in your head. Which will be a good thing, especially if you need to get off your ass and do something.




Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Cartoon and Comics: Superman


REM, Superman, from Life's Rich Pageant

My song choice is a no-brainer for this month’s theme; it’s long been in any number of my personal faves lists—I have a lot of ‘lists’, that cover any emotional, historic, or aesthetic and are subject to as many, probably a lot more, criteria for membership. I know—the whole list thing has been done, thanks very much Nick Hornby…But, I don’t believe there is a true music fan who does not naturally gravitate towards list making. It’s almost instinctual—a way of cataloging the music one loves and justifying the multiverse of songs, bands and genres we love. No reason one can’t have favorites in multiple arenas of music, and revel in their love of many sounds.

The song I picked for this month’s theme fits neatly under three—probably more—categories. One: it’s from a band that is at the top my personal Most Influential list. Two: it is featured on an album that is on my personal Top Albums of all Time list. And three: it is one the first songs I played live with a band (another list—bands I’ve played in), and still one of my favorite songs to play.

So, I present, in honor of “Cartoons and Comics”: REM’s “Superman”… an obvious choice. The song is originally a cover by ‘60s band, The Clique. They were from Texas, and honestly: I don’t know much more about them. REM’s version was recorded for the album Life’s Rich Pageant, and released in 1986. It received some airplay, but not as much as their breakthrough, “Fall on Me.” It is also the first time bassist Mike Mills handled lead vocals—according to the Wikipedia page, lead signer Michael Stipe did not like the song and wanted little to do with the recording. He handles backing vocals only on the cut.



Historically, it might be a silly little single, dashed off and added to the album to perhaps lift the spirit of the thing, add a little levity in an otherwise somber, yet still emotional driving set of songs.The originally is garage rock at it’s best: sludgy guitars, churning and ditzy rhythm, and full of hippy, 1960’s bounce and sunshine.



Lyrically, I like the fact that it takes an iconic story of a guy we all know (Superman), and puts him in the place of any average love sick dude, pining for a girl he probably has no chance of getting. Is it really Superman, or is this guy just bragging? I don’t know; but I do like the very human quality the speaker shows—a lot of bravado to cover up the very evident self-doubt. But, no one ever won by sitting back and letting the race come to them, right…? This guy might be a little full of himself, but, in the end, I think he definitely got the girl…

I love this song, not only for the sense of fun it still has and the infectious urge to bob along when the hear it, but also for what it represents to my own personal heritage of music. REM was one of the first ‘real’ bands I listened to: I graduated from Bon Jovi, Cinderella and a lot of other hair metal crap to their 1987 release, Document, and I’ve always felt they were my introduction to music that mattered. And certainly, they set me on a path of amazing musical discoveries. Life’s Rich Pageant is a collection of songs so integral to my early education that to go back and listen to it is an exercise equally nostalgic and educational at the same time. Nostalgic because those songs still make the same spark in me as when I first heard them and was instantly hooked. Educationally? Probably for the same reasons—good music has that ineffable sense of importance that it achieves almost upon first listen. You hear a great song and it immediately finds a place in your heart, in your personal favorites list. There is time enough for explication and analysis, to determine where the music actually fits and on which list. It’s that initial spark, that beautiful chemistry, that defies numbers and categorization. It is what, as Kant said, makes music the ‘quickening art’—something that is alive in you for the first time. Loving music brings that quickening sensation on a near daily basis. I can’t think of anything else more exhilarating, save for having a few Superpowers of your own…

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

MUSICAL HOMONYMS: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE


Bon Jovi: "Wanted Dead or Alive"
[Purchase]

Warren Zevon: "Wanted Dead or Alive"
[Purchase]

If you read my usual blog, you know full well that while I have a wide-ranging appreciation of music genres, among the last that you will ever hear positive comments about from me is hair metal. More specifically, '80s hair metal -- bands like Poison, Warrant, Cinderella, Winger, and that ilk. And that would most certainly include Bon Jovi. I felt something very much like hate for them back then, although that has waned to simple indifference, as most of my strong music dislikes seem to do over the course of time.

But naturally, there are always exceptions, aren't there? And in this case, it's "Wanted Dead or Alive," that classic work of journeyman rock from Bon Jovi's otherwise terrible 1986 Slippery When Wet album. It was about as close to a "Stairway to Heaven" of hair metal that would ever be crafted. Just don't listen too closely to the lyrics -- otherwise you'll have to spend too much time rationalizing to yourself that you like a song with the lines, "I've seen a million faces/And I've rocked them all." Nonetheless, despite all the reasons that I shouldn't like it, I still truly enjoy the song. I guess I'm a sucker for that chord progression.

But let's get to the theme here: homonymic song titles. And to that effect, for the other song in this pair, I offer up Warren Zevon's own "Wanted Dead or Alive." And Zevon not only had the song -- it's even the title of his 1969 debut album that this comes from. Zevon's "Wanted Dead or Alive" is a shuffling, bluesy, and somewhat sloppy acoustic number; certainly not his best track, but enjoyable anyway. It may be not all that far removed from Bon Jovi's song, in a way, but it never builds to the (melo)dramatic crescendo of that song. Not to mention that Zevon apparently didn't rock a million faces -- at least by the time he wrote this song. He waited for "Werewolves of London" to do that.